April 19, marching from the Washington Monument to the White House
Crow gets on well with
Human, being by nature
Carrion eater.
Peace and light, E — Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.
As I write, big fat flakes of snow are falling against a pale gray sky that is struggling to turn to daylight. It is too early to know how much of the storm will be snow or freezing rain or just plain rain, though all are both possible and probable. If there is mostly snow or mostly rain, some of those I know will be sure to say the weather forecast is never right. My experience is that the weather forecasters are usually quite accurate about pointing out the probabilities and then sometimes the probabilities at the far end of the spectrum are the ones that happen, which makes the forecast apparently off the mark.
I am always entranced with the anticipation of a storm. It only takes the slightest shift in temperature in the atmosphere or a move of a degree or two of the pressure system for there to be a dramatic change in the outcome — a day of rain or a half an inch of ice or several inches of snow. I think all relationships — to places, jobs, people, illnesses, our meditation practices are like that. Just the subtlest shifts in atmosphere and attitude and the whole thing can seem completely different. What I continue to work on is to open to the best path that results from the combination of factors. If because of a less than optimal shift, there is an ice storm with power outages and downed wires and trees, then I try to learn why it happened, see the beauty, and try to shift in a better way. It is hard, and I do not always succeed, but I continue to make the effort.
I remember my first big icestorm. I was in high school and at a big party a few miles from my parents house. We were teenagers and mostly oblivious. We just thought it was raining and continued partying. At some point, we realized that everything was coated with ice, and then we needed to start calling on help to get home. It was disappointing to have the party end prematurely, but very exciting to have the wild and unusual weather. And the next morning, when the temperature dropped and the sun came out, the whole world glittered.
One of the offerings in John Friend’s Anusara Teacher Training Manual, is the “four gates of speech,” which I believe comes from Buddhist practice. The four gates are:
1. Is it truthful?
2. Is it necessary to say?
3. Is it the appropriate time?
4. Is it a kind thing to say?
It is easy to see this application in terms of speaking with others, though not always easy to practice, especially in a group setting where the culture is to condemn and criticize.
A more subtle practice of the four gates is how we talk to and about ourselves. I am someone who was raised to have a very strong internal judging voice. Although with the steady practice of yoga affirmation, my tendency for self-judgment has eased, the propensity reasserts itself when I am stressed. I have taken to asking myself, when I hear the judging voice, does it pass the four gates of speech? I find it a challenging practice, but a necessary one. When we honor ourselves (we can honor ourselves and our own light and still know there are ways we would benefit from expanding or shifting), we will more easily honor, recognize, and affirm the light in others.
