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  • Spam Filter (and thoughts in meditation)

    When I have not looked at my email for several days, I am faced with dozens of emails in my two regular accounts, plus the spam folders.  The first thing I do is see what in the spam folder is not spam.  In doing that, I give some attention to everything in the folder.  Then I go through my in box to figure out what should have gone to spam.  Then I delete the spam.  Then I decide what emails from list serves there is no point in reading because if I have not read them immediately, I will have missed the letter-writing, petition-signing, event-going, offering-enjoying that is described in the email.  Those get deleted without being opened.  There is another level of emails that I open, but just skim.  Then I either delete quickly or leave to be read after I get to the important stuff.  Then there are the personal and business emails that I want to read and require my attention.  I look at them to see if they need immediate attention or can wait.

    The thoughts that arise during meditation have a similar filter.  Some are spam.  There is a certain almost mesmerizing quality about the quantity and array of the thoughts, but I just let them go — returning to my mantra or the breath because the mantra is far more delightful than the thoughts.  Other thoughts, I acknowledge, but leave for later (i.e., the proverbial “to do” list), again finding more delight in the spaciousness and light of meditation.  Sometimes particular thoughts relevant to my practice and very being will start resonating in the light itself and becomes messages.  These thoughts sometimes dissolve again into the light of meditation and do not come with me from the session in a tangible form.  Others stay with me and give me fruit for contemplation, for investigation and study, for illumination of my day, or for discussion with others for further refinement.

    Always, though, there is an acceptance that thoughts will arise as inevitably as one with multiple active email accounts and many list serves will get email.  The practice is learning which thoughts I should give heed, which to discard, and when and how to listen to those that will serve and inform.

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    The Murtis Rearranged Themselves Again

    murtis

    It’s an idiosyncratic grouping, but it is my weaving of stories for the moment.

    I believe the brass dish under the cactus on the left was a wedding present, though I am not absolutely certain of that.  It was a long time ago.

    The cloth with the tassels came from a shaman in Peru; I was there for 9/11.

    I bought the gray scarf when I was in Costa Rica on a retreat with John Friend from a world-traveling fellow yoga practitioner who had brought an array of beautiful scarves to Costa Rica from Thailand.

    Other things were brought home from India–mostly by me, but one a treasured gift from a friend.

    The porcupine quills were also an inspired and loving gift.

    The square of marble under the cactus on the right I found on the street in the neighborhood.  The cactii came from a yard sale over a decade ago.  They were being sold for only blooming once a year.

    The bit of mother of pearl comes from Centerport beach on Long Island. I went there last fall the day before my father’s memorial service.

    Other things came from vendors at Eastern Market and one from New York City.

    The chestnut is from Stanton Park. I picked it up on my way to work one beautiful day last year.

    The heart-shaped stone came from Arizona when I was on a meditation retreat some time late in the last decade.  I’ve been to some really lovely places on this planet.

    The mala Kuan Yin is wearing I strung and designed:  rudraksha beads from my first meditation mala (which had broken), labradorite, and emeralds on silk thread.

    The jet beads belonged to my grandmother Rose.

    There’s a story about the lump of black and red rock behind Ganesha, but I think I’ll leave that for another day.

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