Seeing photos of my saris (which are now journeying with a friend in South India) brings memories of scents–incense and dust, burning ghee, dung and jasmine blossoms, and the feel of hot stones underneath my bare feet. There it is (evidently newly pressed) among the nagas–serpents, tendrils of myth and memory arising desires from our deepest [un]consciousness. Perhaps I will dream of such tonight.
Oh, the stories–
The stories we tell,
We share, we hear,
The stories we
Imagine. What in
Them is truth?
What is Truth?
Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.
Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.
When we can connect to the essence of the element of akasha, space, within ourselves, we feel less crowded by things pressing in on the outside, whether it be actual confinement or overcrowdedness or the sense of crowding from having too many pressing things to do. For those of us who live in the District of Columbia, this weekend, with the extra million or two or three people in our neighborhoods and using our transportation systems is a great opportunity to discover the spaciousness within.
Practice dwelling in a supremely spacious place in your heart when you meditate this week. Start by visualizing a vast space just beyond your third eye (the point between the eye brows). Once you can visualize that space, the chidakasha, draw the space into your heart and rest there. Then, when you go out onto to the Mall or onto the metro or onto crowded streets, bring enough of your consciousness into the vast inner space that you can feel comfortable with the crowding outside. When dwelling in the inner and outer at the same time, it will be easier to marvel at the outside crowds.
For those of you who are extroverts who get exhilarated by crowds, of course, this practice would seem less critical. I invite you to give it a try anyway.
At the weekend workshop in Bryn Athyn yesterday, John Friend reminded us of the scientific fact that our energy flows to where we put our mind. As a physical matter, if we think about our little toe or our tailbone, for example, we will be better able to access it.
As a mental matter, if we think about something we just did or need to do or think we should do, our energy will be diverted to that place.
There are even more profound implications with respect to where we let our mind dwell when we are practicing. Our practice deepens and helps us embody intention (sankalpa). If we dwell on something that is making us angry or suffer while we are practicing, we will actually etch those emotions more deeply into ourselves.
This is not to say that we should not practice when we are suffering or in conflict. Nor does it mean that we should beat ourselves up when “negative” emotions or thoughts arise during our practice. Rather, the awareness of the repercussions of dwelling on and feeding what does not serve is a reminder of the benefits of turning our minds towards the good — perhaps a yearning to be at peace or free from suffering or other positive intention while we are practicing when we are feeling challenged. We use the practice not just to release what does not serve, but choose to refocus our minds so that through the practice we can embody a state of mind and body that better serves us and helps us to respond from a higher place to those things that are painful or hurtful. Ideally, we turn towards what is light, nourishing, and balanced (sattvic), not out of compunction, but because it is more delightful.
I had to address some stressful/annoying things today. Knowing this, I made sure to take a walk in the bright light.
