Taking a Break

I am going to take a break from blogging now in order to focus on my mindfulness meditation practice course.

But, before I go, leave you with this thought:

It strikes me as ironic that
in order to stop being self-centered,
you have to pay more attention to
what YOU are doing.

Thanks for reading.

Lee

Bite: Energy

Making Waves

I woke up feeling very tired,
enveloped by a stagnant pool of lethargy,
yet, fiercely emoting.

Exhaustion engulfed me like sea foam,
but frustration seethed around me
like waves on a beach.

Then suddenly I realized,
‘there is lots of energy here,
in this vexation.

If I could only employ this energy,
then I would be able to
accomplish much.'

When I concentrated
on this notion,
action followed.

The distinction between
reaction and action
dissolved.


Running

I feel as if
I’m training
for some sort of marathon.

Meanwhile,
I’m in one
already.

Bit: Mindfulness of the Body

I sat down,
in the coolness of the outside air,
on my white plastic chair,
all bundled up,
and brought my attention to the body.

Then there was that feeling again,
the one I have difficulty describing.
Falling?
Floating?
A rush of adrenaline perhaps?
A sense of thereness maybe?

Overwhelming sleepiness and fatigue arose,
softness in the chest,
hardness in the legs,
pain in the back of the shoulders.

From the softness emerged
tenderness, compassion, joy, and well-being,
which swept over all.
There was pleasure in just being in the body.

I got caught up in thoughts of
all I needed to get done,
or what I ought to be doing,
which brought forth tension and vibration.

When I noticed the thinking,
the reaction was amusement.
For thinking is most of what I do,
have always done, for most of my life.

And so,
it’s not unexpected when it comes,
but only when it goes.
It’s not a problem when
I enjoy it anyway.

And that was that,
except for the chill from
sitting outside in the cold for 20 minutes.

Big: Sometimes it’s Worth the Effort

The following describes an example of how meditation sometimes helps me to deal with the pain of fibromyalgia and the distress that goes with it.


After I established my attention on my breathing, the first thing I noticed was pain. But then I also noticed intense cravings for pleasure, bliss, and comfort, accompanied by salivation, a mental impression of tongues of bright yellow light straining to reach out for these, and an image of a sunny day with a cloudless sky.

Soon that was replaced by intense feelings of hurting (experienced as a kind of dull soreness in the chest—not the same as the physical pain itself, which was and usually is more like a burning fire). Waves of grief, loss, and sorrow followed, along with despair about my situation, not knowing what to do about it, and hopelessness about it.

Then, this all faded away and as soon as I noticed it I went back to the breath, and for a time there was just the breath. My attention got pulled into the physical pain, perhaps because I did not see anything else happening, but then I returned to the breath and tried to stay alert.

After a while, some small amount of peace and ease arose, along with a visual impression of an all encompassing soft, yellow light, accompanied by a loosening of muscle tension, and then my timer bell rang, ending this 20 minute meditation.


The key thing here is not to get pulled into or get involved with anything that is happening, but only to note what is happening or label it. In this technique awareness of the breathing is used as a kind of anchor from which to look out upon what else is happening.

Beyond: Thinking

Yesterday, I smelled somebody’s cooking, and as I often do, became very irritated. I thought of closing all the windows, as I usually do, but decided instead to try to find out what had provoked this reaction. I concentrated on the smell, and this huge story emerged, though at first I did not see it as such.

Then I thought, ‘what is happening?’ And I focused on it. ‘I am smelling this cooking, I am salivating, I am craving, and I am telling a story.’

I could see from this how it’s important to know that I am telling a story when I am telling a story. For then I can decide how to respond, rather than simply reacting. I also noticed that once I knew about the story, the cooking smell did not bother me.

Then it occurred to me how what I had noticed about what had been happening was such a small part of everything else that had been going on at the moment when I had smelled that food cooking.

Berserk: Delusion

Today, on the way to the grocery store, I was thinking about how deluded people can be.

Then, when I got to the store, there was this couple with this little kid who was blocking the turnstile. Meanwhile, I was having really impatient thoughts about their slowing me down, as I had to wait for the kid and the cart, and the Mother to get out of the way. In fact, I was so preoccupied with how they were in the way, preventing me from getting through as fast as I wanted to, and so forth, that the wheel on my cart got stuck on something, and I couldn’t get it loose, and the people behind me got stuck waiting for me. I felt like a complete fool.

Upon reflection, ‘that was so beautiful,’ I thought. Isn’t life grand!’ And I meant it.

Benumbed: Animation

I sat looking at the artificial grain of
the fake wood of my desk at work.
I observed the shapes and form,
And was suddenly overcome by
the desire to disappear into it.

So quiet, so calm,
Stillness flowing
Flowless stilling
Motionless moving.

Then I resumed my work,
And the desk was just a desk again.

Beneath: Mindfulness Practices

Staying with the Breath

Focusing on the breathing sometimes makes me more aware of my discomfort. Also, I sometimes feel this urge to get up and write down what I am thinking about or suddenly remember something I forgot to do. Sometimes I feel that if agitation were jet fuel I’d be flying around the room. Other times I get sleepy and start to zone out, but when I catch on to this, I respond by sitting up straighter and opening my eyes.


Staying with the Body

In the morning when I wake up, I do a little check in to see where my body is at. Sometimes it’s really quite sore and I need to start out very gently, checking everything out before getting up, and even after getting up, walking slowly at first. Gentle, nonjudgmental attention seems to be helpful.


Staying with It

When I’m feeling really frazzled, sometimes I will just stop what I am doing or trying to do for a minute or even a few seconds.

Belonging: Random Tidbits

Cooking

It’s remarkable how pleasurable it can be to simply feel the knife gliding through the vegetables I am slicing to put into my stew. I never seem to tire of or cease to be amazed by the new shapes that emerge from the encounter between knife and vegetables as I cut them up.


Urban Buddhas

One evening, I went out on my balcony and sat in a chair to meditate. I had this most wondrous experience of feeling as if the skyscrapers, with their yellow lights glowing in the night, were like golden Buddhas, sitting right along with me.


Mind-body Connection

The body may follow the mind,
But I find the reverse is also true;
If you can get the body going,
the mind usually follows.

Beleaguered: Hell

One day, when I was having a Fibromyalgia attack, I fell to reflecting upon hell, perhaps because I felt as if I was in it. I also thought about Tara Buddha and how in my visualizations I sometimes felt as if she poured her compassion all over me until it was overflowing all over the floor. Hence, I imagined myself in hell, and I wondered if the demons would get annoyed because I was making such a mess of the carpet.

“You there! Stop that!” Exclaimed the Demon shift supervisor. Do you have any idea how much it costs to carpet the entire precincts of hell with fire proof carpeting of the exact shade of charcoal black that Lucifer prefers?”

“Who me,” I replied. “I’m not in charge here. It’s Tara. She just keeps pouring compassion on me until it overflows.”

Materializing immediately at the sound of her name, “Yes?” said Tara.

The demon repeated his complaint, to which Tara replied, “I’m not in charge of reality, I just work here.”

Just then, Satan, on one of his regular walk-throughs of the factory floor, noticing the state of affairs, called the demon on the carpet.

The demon explained. “We’ll see about this!” Satan roared, ascending to the waiting room and demanding to be seen by God immediately to lodge a complaint.

“There’s a particularly long line up, this century,” the concierge informed him. “You’ll have to wait.” Naturally the devil attempted to jump the cue, but the other petitioners would have none of it. “Get behind me, Satan!” each one responded to his attempts to cut in. Sullenly, the devil complied.

Several millennia later the dark prince finally got in to see the Most High, who listened sympathetically while the demon vented his ire.

“You’re the one who put me in charge of hell. So, am I still in charge of hell or what?” He ended.

“I don’t see the problem. Some of these Buddhists don’t believe in me; so, of course I have to send them to hell. Besides that, they don’t mind it and it makes you crazy!!!” The Supreme being’s laugh shook the heavens.

The devil fumed, but there was nothing he could do about it; so, shaking with rage he slunk away back to his domains.

Beguiled: Chains

When I meditate it seems as if I change the place from which I am looking. Nothing changes except my perspective, but that’s all I need. I don’t have to change anything, just my perspective.

Chaos is always here.
Harmony is always here.
Suffering is always here.
Liberation from suffering is always here.

I know suffering when I am suffering.
I know liberation when I am awake.

But what is it that changes my perspective?
Do I change it? Is it what I am doing/not doing that changes it?
Or, does it merely change by itself, and it’s just that I happen to be paying attention at the time?

Then again, there is also a kind of cause and effect involved, is there not?
Something causes this change (or does it?)

It is said that if you break free from this chain of cause and effect, you are free to act, but when you are free, how will you act then?

This is the fear.

Then again, what if we are never independent from conditions? Then, I think we can only act within the parameters of all the conditions; we cannot depart from that.

If this is so then why do we make the judgments we make about people?

Or, maybe that too is conditioned.

Befuddled: September Discoveries

Decay

Everything is falling apart,
So much so that every time
Something else goes,
I fall down laughing!


Being

I come and go,
And yet there is no coming,
And no going.


Everything

When I’m in a bad mood,
Everything is in a bad mood.

Befriended: Nature Speaks

Will-o’-the-wasp?

A wasp got caught up
in a spider’s web outside my window.

‘I know exactly how you feel,’ I thought.

But then suddenly she broke free.

Effortlessly she hovered,
Her body pointing like an arrow.
“Follow me,” she seemed to say,
“This way is freedom.”


A Cloud’s Eye View

At the end of a violent storm in my area, I went outside to view the results. Overhead, the clouds were moving very fast.

“Does it hurt when the wind sends you tearing across the sky?” I asked.

I followed their progress from west to east with my eyes, and there I saw the rainbow.


Environ

Consider this: which is greater, the individual or the environment?
Although we may influence our environment, of which we are undoubtedly a part, I suspect its influence upon us is greater, especially in the long run.

But, look now: I am part of your environment; you are part of my environment. We are all part of each other’s environments. We are all individuals, and yet we are all environmental. We are all part of each other, and yet we are all apart from each other.

Bedimmed: Confused Insights

I get so confused sometimes,
But from this confusion emerges
Such insights!

* * *

Life is a mistake,
a beautiful mistake!

* * *

Today I came to the conclusion that I am dead, that is, nothing but a walking, talking, thinking, breathing corpse.

Then I thought, ‘that’s not something you see every day, . . . or is it?’

Could it be that awakening is merely waking up and realizing you are a corpse, surrounded by other corpses?

Then perhaps ignorance is only being a corpse and not knowing it.

Where then do you go from here?

Perhaps I should buy a plot and bury myself, or maybe I already have, and that’s where I am now.

If not, what is it that gets buried in cemeteries then? Could these be the live ones?

Or, is that just the maggots, the rodents, and the insects playing with their food? (GRINS)

Basics: Mundane Verities

After decades of trying to understand reality, I’ve only gone from:
“I need to figure this out,” to “It’s impossible to know,” to “I don’t know whether it’s possible to know or not.”

But there are a few certainties, such as,
The refrigerator does not fill itself,
Nor does the bank account spontaneously grow,
Neither does the dishwasher self-load!

Reality may unfold on its own,
But laundry does not fold itself.
Awakening may be instantaneous,
But learning how to live is not!

Bare: Straightforward Reply

I felt horribly depressed and discouraged, but for some reason it came to me: supposing I imagine I am the Buddha before all the Buddhas, the only Buddha, the original Buddha (if there ever was such a Buddha).

Then there is no one to guide me but me.

What do I do? How do I do this? How do I find my way?

The answer came at once.

I create my way.
Minute by minute,
I make the unfolding path.
With each step,
I construct the bridge,
as it grows.
The trail is blazed,
and it glows.
A beacon seen,
from miles away,
for others who may follow.

Then suddenly, I knew what I had to do,
and so I got up from my cushion,
and cooked supper.

Banter: Silly Answer

In Chinese Buddhism, or Ch’an, which later spread to Japan, where it is called Zen, the story goes that a famous master named Bodhidharma brought Buddhism to China in the 6th century. A common koan (a riddle one contemplates to obtain spiritual insight) associated with Bodhidharma is, “Why did Bodhidharma come from the West?”

Then, one day, while I was brushing my teeth, the answer came to me!

He came to find the answer to the burning question, “Why did the chicken cross the road?”

For, (my mind continued unabated) as he was strolling across the fields in ancient India, he spied a slip of rice paper being blown by the wind, and when it came his way he snatched it up. On this piece of paper he saw the question, and just had to know!

‘Somewhere out there,’ he thought, looking in the direction from which the scrap of paper had blown, ‘there must be an answer!’

And so, he made the long hazardous journey (all such journeys being long and hazardous in those days) to China.

But when he got there, he realized that these people knew nothing of the Buddha’s teaching (sometimes referred to as the Dharma), and out of compassion for the people of China decided to teach instead. Consequently, he forgot all about the chicken, until many years later when he was close to death. Then, all of a sudden he recollected the original reason for his quest.

‘I must know!’ He realized.

Hence, when, some time after he died, somebody decided to dig him up (though why that was, I don’t recall), all they found in the grave was one sandal. (Thus, it is said that if you see a man walking wearing only one sandal it could be him.)

And so, here I sit, by the side of the road the chicken crossed, waiting for Bodhidharma, so that I can provide him with the answer to this burning question.

(GRINS)

Banishment: August Musings

On the first anniversary of the beginning of my current meditation practice

During meditation I noticed that my feelings are often based on how I think I ought to feel. When I ask how I should feel, given the larger picture (in relation to the scheme of things—whatever that might be) I don’t know because I don’t know all that is happening or what is going to happen. (I probably don’t even have a clear idea of what has happened.)

The effect of this is to enable me to create distance between myself and my feelings without judging whether I should have these feelings or not. From this calmer ‘background,’ I look at the feelings, thoughts, etc., as if they are objects.

But are they really? If so, to whom do they belong? And who is it who is examining them anyway? Can the examiner be distinguished from the examined, or is this just a way of talking?

Bang: July Insights

Stepbacks

When I stepped back from my anguish
I found aversion.
Behind that
I found fear,
But, behind that fear
I found peace.
Behind that peace
Was void,
But, behind that void
Was indescribable.


Practice Discoveries

Practice makes preaching difficult.
Fortunately, when you practice,
preaching is no longer necessary.

“In the beginner’s mind there are many possibilities. In the expert’s mind there are few.”
--Shujnryu Suzuki, Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind


Letting Go a Little

I sat thinking,
‘I can’t do this anymore,’
but then suddenly it occurred to me,
‘Well then, stop!’

This produced a smile,
followed by a giggle.

Balm: May Moments

My Refuge

When, at last I come
Unto the land of neither,
both, and none of the above;
There I shall find my secure height;
There I shall erect my tent; and,
There shall I find my resting place.
From there I shall go out.
To there I shall return.


Ordinary Things

I don’t know
Whether I know or not,
Or whether or not
It’s possible to know
Whether I know or not,
Let alone
Whether or not knowing is possible.

And then I went out
and bought some vegetables.

All praise to the mundane!
I’d go crazy without it.

Balanced: April Haikus

View from My Window on a Windy Spring Day

A seagull circles
Chimney smokes, "Can you catch me?"
Flag and air dance.


Mind Flux

Glorious chaos
Disgusted by everything
I grin and giggle

Backhanded: March Marvels

Squirrel

I saw a squirrel breathing in a tree.
I looked up at her and she looked down at me.
We then began moving simultaneously—she vertically, I horizontally.
Do you know how I knew she was a “she?”


Wheel

I saw the wheel of life and I was holding it. I was also in the center of an even larger one, being held, but the being holding it was in the center of another wheel, held by an even greater being, and this went on forever.

Then, looking the other way, seeing the center of the wheel I was holding, there was another smaller being, who was holding an identical but smaller wheel, and inside that, at the center, was another being holding a wheel, and so on to micro-infinity.


What I’ve Been Doing

Today, I feel like a star,
a blinding sun that never got to shine.
Oh! How I wanted to fill the heavens with my light,
but I was always blocked, unrecognized.

Once, I reached for a star,
but that star was just I.
I reached out,
but there was no need.
All I really had to do was reach in.

But what good did even that do?
Is there somewhere to go from here?
Or, maybe I just can’t get there from here.

What do you do if you can’t get there from here?

Just exactly what I’ve been doing, of course!

Backfire: Impression Grabbing

I see one thing I often do in meditation is instead of being in the moment, to grab onto my impressions of it. It’s like when you tape record a single sound and replay it over and over again, creating the illusion of continuity, where there is none. You take it to be what is happening now, when in fact it’s merely a mental impression of that which was, which is now long gone, and what is happening now is something entirely different. What you are getting hung up on is not even what was, as what was no longer exits; what you are looking at or hearing is something like an after image of what was, and no longer is, and has nothing to do with the present moment, except that your impression of what was is happening now. Meanwhile, you are overlooking everything else that is happening now. You are being taken in by your own mental impression, and all you are experiencing is the image you constructed from what had already happened, but thinking this image is what’s happening. Reality has moved on, but you missed it.

Why do we do this? Could it be that we are afraid of change, and prefer the security of thinking we can grab onto something safe and secure and wrap ourselves in it? But then we are treating reality as something outside of us. Why else would we prefer this illusion to the flow of experience?

Desire for certainty leads to attachment to what is already gone; in other words, uncertainty. How silly, and yet although I know this I keep on doing it. I wonder where I picked up this habit.

No wonder I sometimes find life so boring and tedious; it’s just the way I think, not the way it is. Actually it’s changing constantly, but what I usually think of as reality is nothing of the kind, but only my thoughts, feelings, and impressions of it. Of course my thoughts, feelings, and impressions are real, but they are only a very tiny part of all that is, and if I get stuck on them I limit my vision; whereas, reality is enormous, perhaps even unlimited.

So then, when I have pain, it’s so tiny in relation to all that is, but sometimes it becomes my world, and then, as far as I am concerned it’s everything. How horrible is that! But to the extent that I can disentangle myself from this view, and see everything instead, so too, to that extent I will suffer less.

We so seldom respond to reality because we don’t know what’s going on when it’s going on, and this leads to all sorts of mistakes, which create problems for us. Instead we base our actions on pseudo-reality, the one we create because we are afraid of the flow of change, though it’s really just us in disguise.

Babble: Beginning Again - Practice Journal

On August 1, 2008, I set the goal of meditating for twenty minutes each day, and whenever it occurs to me, I write about reflections that arise from this practice, from my reading and listening, and from applying what I’ve learned to my daily life. I am now going to begin sharing these.

MARCH HAIKUS

Fog Bound

In a fog alone,
Reached out for Tara Buddha
But the fog was I.


Buried Treasure

Remaining hidden,
The best Buddhas are unknown;
Spring is always here.


The View in All Directions

Sat on a pillow,
Atop earth unsupported,
Sampling the seasons.


Silly Reasons for Meditation

Why I meditate?
I cannot tell you because,
None of it is true.

Adventitious: Finishing Up

In my last entry, I elaborated on more of the unfamiliar experiences resulting from my Buddhist practice; particularly those relating to a Buddha called Tara.

There was one more; so incredible I am not even sure what to call it, let alone how to describe it. Plus, I’m reluctant to go into it, because I don’t want to create a false impression. I don’t want people to think this is all about altered states and peak experiences, because actually it isn’t. It is easy to make this mistake, but mostly life consists of the day-to-day slogging that all of us do, facing and/or struggling with the host of obstacles or conditions we encounter. Getting caught up in bliss can be just as big an impediment to clear seeing and thinking as drowning in suffering.

Besides, I think that others have already described these sorts of states thoroughly. If you are really interested in this topic, I suggest you obtain the audio book by Jack Kornfield, entitled, After the Ecstasy, the Laundry. Here he draws from the experiences of many different people, and not just Buddhists, but also Christians, Muslims, Jews and Hindus. In fact, he argues that such experiences and states are common. I would highly recommend this book for those who would like to explore this subject further.

As far as my own insight is concerned, the most important thing is not that, but what I have been up to since that great opening to everything as it is occurred. For, quite soon after, I suddenly decided that I really needed to re-establish a regular daily meditation practice.

I opted for something relatively easy. The last time, as I discussed when I talked about my attempt to follow part of the method recommended by Jon Kabat-Zinn, the results had not been too good. I guessed that perhaps this had to do with the fact that I had pushed too hard, especially, that I had kept increasing the amount of time spent in meditation. The other thing was that I lacked the frame of reference.

It is obvious from the results that I have described that there is something more I needed. We all get this in different ways, but at the time I am writing this, this seems to be my way.

Next I will turn to my journaling on my daily practice, including resources consulted, insights, twists and turns, setbacks, and so on. Some of it may not make much sense, but I will put it up anyway for those who may benefit from it, or at least enjoy it or be entertained by it. It won’t all be serious either; so, keep your sense of humour handy. I know I will.

Advent: Ignition

In my last post, I wrote about how my Tara practice led to an experience of disappearance. This was merely the first in a series of peculiar events that occurred during one week of particularly intense Fibromyalgia pain.

The next day, I was again reduced to lying in bed moaning and groaning, but once again I was able to let go by focusing on Tara. This time, I was overcome by an intense feeling of bliss. All of my pain disappeared for a time. It was actually a bit scary because it seemed to come from nowhere. I concentrated on my breath, however, and then this cascading joy swept over me, practically lifting me off the bed. Alas, when it ended the pain returned.

During the next incident I was cooking supper. Suddenly a bright light seemed to emerge from deep inside of me, engulfing me. ‘It’s too bright! It’s too bright!’ I thought. I had to stop what I was doing and grab on to something. The light intensified, growing brighter and brighter, then exploding outward like some kind of supernova blast. I was enveloped in light and all-encompassing joy. (Interestingly, Tara is often associated with light; light and related imagery appear frequently in the 21 praises of Tara to which I alluded earlier.)

After that I was able to return to my task, had supper, and went to work. The feeling of joy persisted, however, and on my way home, I felt as if I could see the same light in everyone I saw on the street.

This all seemed amazing, incredible at the time, though I later learned that such experiences are quite common for many people who employ the sorts of practices in which I had been engaged. It turned out not to be anything special really, but it certainly felt unique back then.

Naturally, I wanted more information and kept looking for it. One place I found it was in a series of CDs called, Out of Your Mind, and other assorted talks by Alan Watts. He had an amazing way of explaining Buddhism, particularly Zen, which was so simple and yet so profound. It wasn’t until some years later that I discovered his little trick, which I am not going to reveal here; it’s much more fun for you to find out on your own. His material is all over the web; so, you should not have trouble finding it. A simple search is all it takes.

Next time, I will attempt to finish up the “My Quest” series, as I am itching to get on to writing about my current practice.

Ado: Rumours of My Disappearance

Last time, I wrote about how, in the middle of a particularly vicious Fibromyalgia attack, I fell to reflecting upon Tara Buddha’s predicament, that of being a Buddha to whom devotees continually cry out for rescue from the round of suffering of this world.

So, here I was cringing in agony, feeling sorry for this being, supposedly residing in perpetual bliss in Nirvana, and yet constantly bombarded by cries for help.

Quelle bizarre, no?

Well, I thought so anyway.

In keeping with my feelings of uselessness, I decided that the best response was for me to give her all of my merit and everything else I possessed, so that she could transform this into, . . . whatever it is that she has to transform it in to facilitate the release from suffering of everybody requesting it.

Then, as I said, everything seemed to disappear, including me, except that there seemed to be something left over, which wasn’t something, nor was it nothing. Even afterwards, I couldn’t describe whatever the not something not nothing was, or what it wasn’t. All sense of the passage of time completely disappeared as well, so that this whatever could have gone on for days for all I knew while I was in it, and as for who was left to know anything at all, I could not say.

In addition, there was also this disembodied voice (presumably mine), which said “What is this? Is it bliss? No. Is it sadness? No,” and so on.

Then there was also this kind of greyness in the whatever, which reminded me of a ripple in a pond, when a fish comes close to the surface and stirs the water slightly. Later, I formed the impression that this was where “me” went, as if I had somehow been flushed down the drain or something.

After an interval, which as I had looked at my watch shortly before this incident, I guessed to be at least twenty minutes, everything came back, including the pain, which had disappeared along with everything else.

What to make of this? I had not idea, but as it turned out this was just the movie trailer. The weirdest was yet to come.

Next time: riding the rocket.

Adjournment: the Mysteries of Tara

Last time, I wrote about some of the information I found on Tara Buddha, and my reactions to it. This time I will briefly discuss some of the practices associated with her.

There are a number of practices associated with Tara. Using her name as a mantra is probably the simplest one, and I have found this beneficial for getting me through pain, anxiety, insomnia, and all sorts of stress. There are also various mantras, the most general of which is, “Om Tara tu tareh tureh soha.” I’ve seen several different versions of the pronunciations, and I am not even sure if mine is quite right. Nevertheless, I find that if I recite it in the way I have written, it gives me a great sense of energy, which can come in handy when I am having trouble with the fatigue resulting from the pain and poor sleep caused by my Fibromyaligia.

Then there is also the 21 praises of Tara, various versions of which are easily found all over the Internet. I have been working on one of my own for quite some time, by combining different versions to make one that I like. The idea is that you recite them out loud. Again, I find this energizing and absorbing.

This being said, I was still not ready for the onslaught of health problems and pain that struck next. I’m not sure what it was about. I know that I was very busy working on a master’s degree, going to work, and later discovered that I had also been suffering from iron deficient anemia. By the Christmas break, I was exhausted and I was hit by what felt like a wall of pain that just would not let up.

I had to work a lot over Christmas, but when I wasn’t there, I spent a lot of my time lying flat on my back in agony, thinking about Tara. At one point I just kept saying her name over and over and over. Then I began to reflect on what a burden it would be to have to sit in meditation all day, having everybody talking at me, clamouring for liberation.

In Buddhism, there is the idea of accumulating merit or good Karma (as well as bad Karma), and in Tibetan practice the idea that you can actually share your good Karma with others. Reflecting on Tara’s situation, I thought, ‘whatever merit I may have, the way I see it, you need it more than I do, Tara; so, why don’t you just take it? In fact, why don’t you just take everything!’

And, with that (I don’t know how else to say this), at that very moment, everything disappeared, including me!!! (blinks)

Next time: where did everything go? Or, who turned out the lights?

Adept: The Irrepressible Tara

In my last post, I wrote about some of the benefits of the loving-kindness meditation practice demonstrated by Jack Kornfield, in Beginner’s Guide to Buddhism, and my inexplicable reaction to reading about a certain Buddha named Tara. To reiterate, “I’ve found you at last!” I exclaimed. “Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you everywhere!!!”

In Tibetan Buddhism Tara represents many virtues, compassionate wisdom being chief among them. She has many faces or aspects, but most importantly in my case, she is associated with healing. As Wikipedia puts it, “she expresses maternal compassion and offers healing to beings who are hurt or wounded, either physically or psychically.” There are mantras associated with her, but it is said in Tibetan folklore that simply calling her name is enough to invoke her powers.

Is she considered real? Yes and no. My impression is that she is a symbolic representation of various elements of the feminine aspect in all of us. Coincidentally perhaps, as I understand it, in traditional Chinese medicine it is an imbalance between masculine and feminine forces that causes ill health.

‘Could this be what I was lacking?’ I wondered.

Or, maybe it was the legend that impressed me so much. For, one version of the story goes that once upon a time, “millions of years in the past,” there was a princess named “Yeshe Dawa,” who became a very advanced student of Buddhism, under the Buddha of that particular era. Some, undoubtedly ignorant male monks then made the foolish mistake of suggesting to her that if she really wanted to make progress, she ought to come back in her next life as a man. (Oops!) Her reaction was along the lines of, “excuse me, there’s something wrong with being female!? Hmm? And just to show you how dumb you are, not only am I not going to do that, but I am going to achieve Buddhahood as a woman. So there!!!” (What a woman!)

And, you guessed it, she did exactly that! She then sat down in “meditation for some ten million years,” which resulted in the liberation of “tens of millions of beings.”

Is that cool, or what! LOL I certainly thought so. On my good days, she is like a spirit friend, on my not so good days she is like a guru (spiritual guide), and on my really bad days, she’s like a Mother. You know those days, when you feel like screaming, “MOMMY!!!” That’s how I feel about her.

Next time: more about Tara and practices associated with her.

Actuation: I am Inspired

Last time, I wrote about the mixed results I obtained when I attempted to apply the instructions supplied for loving-kindness meditation by Jack Kornfield, in his audio book, Beginner’s Guide to Buddhism. It helped to some extent with my anxiety but paradoxically the resulting muscle relaxation actually increased my awareness of the pain caused by my Fibromyaligia.

One thing I learned from this, however, is that it is possible to change one’s attitude towards others and the world in general. By this I mean that contrary to what I had formerly believed—that what you feel is what you feel—you can cultivate certain feelings and attitudes, especially compassion towards yourself and others. This is certainly better than judging everything all the time, which many of us tend to do, and I did experience an overall increase in well being, at least on the days when the pain lessened.

Interestingly, this practice is recommended as an antidote to ill will (excessive anger, resentment, hatred and bitterness), and I would certainly concur that if you experience ill will (which many people who have a lot of pain or other kinds of distress do) this practice may help you. Not that you should let people put you down, but practicing compassion may help you to see the other fellow/gal’s point of view, which may help you resolve your conflicts in a more effective and mutually beneficial way.

Encouraged by my, albeit limited, success, I therefore kept looking for other practices that could help, as I still needed something, and these sorts of practices did at least appear promising. I was not, however, prepared for what happened next.

Thinking back upon what I had studied so far, I had always meant to look for information on Tara, the Buddha of compassionate wisdom. M. D. Eckel mentioned her in his lecture series on Buddhism (which I cited earlier), and I had been curious about her then, since, so far, I had encountered almost no mention of women’s role in Buddhism. There seemed to be lots of male Buddhas and famous male teachers/masters, etc., but almost no female ones.

When I looked up Tara on the Internet, however, my own reaction astonished me.

“I’ve found you at last!” I exclaimed. “Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you everywhere!!!”

WHAT was this about and WHERE did it come from? Even I did not know.

Next time: out of my mind?