Completely: Breakthrough

I don’t identity
With this at all;
Everything I’ve written
‘Til now, seems like nothing.

I’m floating in happiness,
Alight in delight,
Held up by bliss,
Overflowing with joy.

All else seems trivial,
My senses inconsequential,
My cravings satisfied,
In compassion I abide.

I have fed my daemons,
And they are resting now,
Purring in their sleep
Like cats who’ve et their fill.

All is well and silent,
The only thing
Left to do therefore
Is be happy.

How long
This will last
I will not
Even dare ask!

This has to be
The best it’s been
In a very long time
With my practice and my mind.

It’s been such a difficult trip,
It’s so sweet to be in this state,
What comes next I would not even care to guess;
Regardless, it’s great to be at rest for a while.
There will be another test, but until then, no worries.

Compendium: Mysterious

Why am I here?
Life so beautiful
And so fleeting
Like the leaves
On the trees
Blowing in the breeze;

Do they know
They are so gorgeous,
As they wave at me
Upon the summer wind?

When did it all begin?
Or does it have a beginning?
Where will it end?
Or is it endless?

Will I ever know?
Or, Is this
My only part
In the show?

Life is baffling
And amazing,
Tantalizing
And frightening.

Getting on with work now,
Back to the mundane
And yet
Always changing,

Not what I was taught
But rather,
What I’ve learned
Through experience;
Temporary appearance
And disappearance.

Compelling: Spicy Repast

Getting mad about
Not being present:
Losing now
And finding it
In preparing supper;

Seeking meaning in
Chopping vegetables,
But discovering rage
And hacking away angrily;

This fury arose unbidden
From nowhere
And continued unabated,
Could not be sated;

And so, I waited impatiently
For the stew to cook,
This ire served up hot
And sticky;

Resentment, bitterness
Flavours this meal,
More spicy than the black pepper
That I shake into it;

Yet as empty as
The knife I cut with,
And as sharp as
The blade.

From whence does this irateness arise?
And when will it go?
To neither of these questions
Do I have the answer;

And so, I just keep watch
On the contents of the pot stirring,
And try lowering the temperature
To prevent the burning.

Compatible: Just What’s Happening

Cold coming on:
Sore throat,
Fatigue, malaise,
But eerily calm.

Sleeping poorly
But drowsily settling in,
Breezing through
Barely touching the ground,

Easing through,
Relaxing dreamily,
Seemingly sedate,
Too tired to be irate.

Listening to sounds,
Seeing shapes,
Feeling sensations,
Smelling somebody’s food cooking faraway.

Being with the body,
Noticing its rhythms;
Energy is lacking
But I’m still dancing.

Working steadily,
Enjoying the ride;
Reflecting on the reality
Through which we slide,

Putting that aside
To flow with the tide:
Making waves
And being one,

Floating along
Never far flung,
Staying in close
But not holding on.

Compassionate: Growth

A nothing day,
Difficult meditation
And deeply depressed mood
Broken finally by
A mantra:
Breathe, relax, open
To whatever is here,

Like the Hindu god Shiva,
Breaks open the egg
So that the baby bird
Can emerge
From there
To begin
A new life.

Then mindfulness
Of breathing commenced,
With everything else
In the background,
And the hatchling found shelter there,
Full presence given to
This being;

Offered comfort as well,
And then depression and anguish
Replaced by compassion
And understanding;
The fledgling stretched
Its wings towards the rising sun,
And basked in the warmth.

A nothing day transformed
Into a beautiful evening,
And a gentle night,
One of peace, ease and steadiness;
With confidence
That as the wings grow stronger
This bird will soar above the clouds.

Compassion: Home Remedies

Up to my eyeballs
In doubt;
Didn’t really meditate,
Just sat at first.

Quite out of it
But enjoyed the fog.
Later body settled into
Spontaneous breathing awareness;

Then pain
In back of shoulders
And neck;
Floated in this discomfort,

But aching all over followed;
Did yoga movements
While sitting, but
Caught in reflections again,

Thought, ‘everything leading
In the wrong direction now,
But what choice do I have?’
Worn out and achy.

Instead of feeling
Sorry for self,
Stretched, ate,
Ran a hot bath, and relaxed;

All effective,
My efforts worthwhile,
Even though bogged down in
Recurring theme: my current situation.

At bedtime noticed depression,
Thought, ‘hello, old friend,’
Relaxed into it,
Rolled over and slept.

Commute: Seeking Balance

Fed up with
Getting pulled by emotions;
Tried mindfulness of breathing
All day, instead.

Accomplished much
But restlessness,
Dissatisfaction
And criticism driven;

Pulled from task
To task,
Jobs to be done,
And perfectionism besides.

Mindfulness of all
Made settling into meditation easier,
But stillness broken
By mental busyness: chores to do.

Restlessness revitalized afterwards,
With incessant thinking
Compulsive cleaning,
But posture focus too.

When finished, sat for tea;
Met with shakiness, agitation,
Likely migraine coming
With the weather change;

The external atmosphere
Brought about internal alterations,
Which gave rise to turbulent moods,
Upon which the mind broods.

Finally flew angrily into exercising,
Drumming furniture and dancing war;
This frenzy vanquished the fury
By channeling the tempest,
And then at last mind came to rest.

Commotion: Out of Balance

Negative mood
But calm in the background;
Let everything be
And got some work done,

Then got pulled
Into everything again;
Compulsive thinking,
And worrying.

The ringing phone
Brought me back
Into now;
Again and again

I used this anchor
In the stormy seas,
So tiresome
And repetitive.

When will this
Exasperating irritation leave?
I will not
Grieve its departure,

But appreciate the contrast;
Yet, alas the difference
Keeps it going,
My ignorance is showing;

My ill will towards
This agitation,
Ensures its recurrence
And perpetuation;

My craving for ease,
Guarantees a continuation
Of these wild swings
From peace to chaos.

Commentary: Mindful Lugging

After grocery shopping
I pulled my buggy
Along the sidewalk,
Heading for home.

Then suddenly
I saw below me
A big black ant
Crawling on the pavement.

In her mandible
She grasped a morsel;
I could see she too
Was transporting her supper home.

But she was about to be
Squashed under a wheel
Of my cart;
Fortunately I was paying attention,

And so I was able
To avoid crushing her,
So that she could
Continue on safely
With her load,
As I did with mine.

Comeback: There's No Misery Without Company

Dissatisfaction arises from
Satisfaction;
The seeds of the former
Give birth to the latter.

If I did not have
Some contentedness,
I would experience
No discontent either.

Whenever I look
Behind disliking,
I find liking;
It is the ground underneath,

And so too satisfaction
Emerges from beneath dissatisfaction,
Like the sun peeking out
From behind the clouds.

Miserably staring out the window
What showed through the screen,
But the most beautiful,
Fluffy white cloud I had ever seen.

‘Oh, how fortunate, am I!
To have such a gleaming
Visitor,
What a magnificent scene!’

‘Do you know how beautiful
You are?’ I asked,
‘So wonderful
And so fleeting.’

‘I must be one of the luckiest
Creatures alive
That I should have been present
To see you arrive.’

Collision: Blocked

Once again
I find no place
Else to go,
And so I re-engage

With my practice,
Wavering but persistent,
Journeying to where?
I do not know,

Aiming skyward,
Supported by the wings
Of compassion and wisdom,
Seeking ‘now.’

Nevertheless, chronic negativity
Continues unabated,
Intense ruminations arise
Like a restless flock of birds;

I make them the topic,
Try catching and stopping
These agitated visitors,
Then accepting but not feeding.

But these strategies fail
To fend off
The wretched vultures;
They only flail more,

Digging into soft flesh
With sharp claws;
Greedily grabbing onto
Whatever they can find.

Embedded in these bleak musings,
I watch and wait
For conditions to change,
But what will they be like?
Fear and uncertainty flap about noisily.

Collect: Joining Forces

The narrative continues,
As myriad minutes
Stagger through
And disappear,

Fear and confusion
Appear
And vanish
Into the void;

Frustration seethes upward,
Anger flames;
Solar flares erupt
And black holes consume.

Blinding flashes of vitriol
And dark thoughts;
Stopping up the gaps
With hurt feelings tied up in knots.

But what’s in the space?
Peace and ease;
How strange,
To find such composure!

Serenity never abandoned me,
Even though
I feel engulfed in
A conflagration cycle;

When I look
From the outside
I am surprised to find that
All is as well as ever!

Buffeted by fierce solar winds
And gravitational shear,
Yet held in tranquility.
Stillness coexisting
With stellar intensity.

Collared: Mired in Misgivings

Bout of doubt,
Day two,
Feelings:
Angry and Blue.

But in Tara
I still believe:
She’s the light
That helps relieve

These dark feelings,
Of distrust
And grief,
Of neediness and craving,

She keeps the faith
While I wobble,
Stumble and fumble
Around Samsara,

Because her realm
Is Nirvana,
The place where
Certainty and hesitation meet.

Patiently she sits
Awaiting my return
To my senses,
And my path—if there is one.

It’s been said,
“We are here to learn.”
What shall I discover
If I continue looking?

I’m afraid to find out;
So, I turn away
When I should turn towards.
Where does acceptance go
When it goes?

Collapse: Doubters’ Prison?

Oh, botheration!
I’ve hit a snag:
I’m sick of meditation
This Dharma is a drag!

How long this time,
Will this last?
Is it the end?
I wonder,

Or, to be ignored
As just another
Dharma blunder?
Who is stealing my thunder?

Is it me,
Or the weather,
Should I give up,
Or try harder?

Apply more effort,
Is that what it takes?
In this snakes and ladders
It feels all snakes.

Why serpents?
This is no Eden,
I’m merely fighting
For my freedom.

Is that what I’m doing?
Striving for liberation
When did that happen?
I thought I was dreaming.

I wanted to get through the day
Without screaming,
What is this, new scheming?
I’ve lost my way again;
I hope I can recover.

Coil: Stuck on Caught

To rest in the potentiality
Of the moment
Brings happiness,

Or maybe the best way
Is to forget about it,
And when caught
Get reminded.

Then there is only
Getting caught and un-caught;
So, why study that?
Why take an interest?

Does attention not just
Get you caught more?
Or, merely teach you
The folly of getting caught?

Or does such awareness teach you
The foolishness of bothering
About whether
You are caught or not?

Conversely, if you take notice,
Do you see it’s unimportant
And stop?
Or does that increase the stickiness?

Perhaps examining the phenomenon
Only feeds self-obsession and attachment,
As maybe mostly we’re not caught,
And if we are, so what?

Does it matter?—Could this be the point?
(I have the feeling
I’ve done this one before,
Oops, caught again!)

Cohere: Working Meditation

Foot, foot, foot, foot,
Walking meditation;
Taking my break outside tonight,
Staying with the feet.

Why is this guy following me?
Now he sits down on
The steps of the church
At one end of my route;

Switch from path
To sidewalk,
But then so does he,
Puffing on his smelly cigarillo.

Time’s up by now anyway,
Break over,
Back to work,
On the phone again;

It rings,
And I pause for
A mindfulness moment
Before answering.

Another voice
Calling for assistance,
No resistance at my end,
I’m ready to bend.

A successful conversation here,
A timely intervention there,
All’s well
And happy.

I journey home
At the end of the shift,
Beginning to drift,
Writing this brings me back,
And I prepare to hit the sack.

Clouded Under: Weather Wandering

Oh, no!
Blogging,
Oops, forgot again,
Too busy practicing, but

The weather is delightful,
Quilted sky
Frowns down upon
The earth,

What a scowl!
But no rain comes.
Seagulls fly low
To avoid hitting the ceiling,

Ripples of light
Leak through
The holes,
Brightening the horizon.

What a day,
But too much
To summarize,
The atmosphere tells all,

A chilly evening in store,
Time to bundle up
And get ready
To go to work once more.

Flying around
To prepare
Like the gulls
That rise and swoop;

Gulping down supper
To make up time;
Going way to fast,
But the comfort
Doesn’t last anyway.

Clouded: Shaken up and Stirred

Meditation started well,
Ended up with
Rage, rage,
And rage continued.

Slid into frustration
Flavoured with fatigue,
And a desire to escape from
Everything present,

Plus longing for
Unconsciousness, not to be here;
Even after meditation,
The nightmare persisted,

Unpleasant, unpleasant,
Anguish, grief and sadness.
When am I going to
See the heart of this?

When do I get to
The end of it,
Put a stop to it (if I can),
When?

Intense emotional upwelling
And outbursts recurring
Not sure why so
Critical of what’s here.

Disliking, reactive thoughts:
‘I could have taken a nap
If I did not have to
Be on call all the time.’

Judging, believing that,
Followed by anger.
Shaken up and stirred,
What a palaver!

Climb: Micro-Progress

Depressed mood,
How to
Make it better?

Brushed my teeth,
Aimed attention there,
Depression back-grounded,

Directed myself
Not to get involved,
Kept with the action.

Black moods
Come and go,
Let them.

Stayed with
The activity,
Leaving the mood alone.

Let resistance be,
Felt it,
But hung in with the brushing.

Breathed in and out
And kept busy,
Focused on the task.

Held steady,
Let go,
And looked in the mirror,

Neither feeding,
Nor retreating,
Nor getting lost,

Very difficult job,
But it
Felt right.

Clearing: Late Night Log

Hectic day in a
Busy week,
Couldn’t stop for anything,
Had to go at peak.

Drowsiness set in
At the end of the evening,
Forget all about blogging
And writing and believing,

Trouble picking a topic
Just driveling along,
Trying to say something
But fuzzy mind is dawdling.

Did some visualizations
And found some rest,
Putting all together
To prepare for the next test,

Hoping for the best,
But trying to be in this moment,
Relying on now instead of
Resting on hope,

No time to mope,
Have to pull up my socks
And get ready for more,
Though not knowing what it’s for,

Hence, have to sleep loose,
To be up for anything,
I need to be equipped
In case the chips slip,

I can’t afford to get depressed,
As that always makes a mess,
Of my mood and my sleep;
So, no more ruminating
And off I go to bed!

Clamour: Mind Flutter

Pain, loss, grief,
Commentary and reaction,
Judging and rage,
Don’t like this page.

Expanded attention
To let be what be,
Letting inside be
And outside be.

But the arrows
Kept flying,
And discouragement
Dropped by for a visit,

Yet felt good
About facing this onslaught,
Really being there
For this projectile barrage,

Self-consciousness,
Irritability,
Rumination and worry,
Struggling to include it,

Frenetic energy overflowed
Into compulsive thinking,
Then converted to
Walking and stretching,

Working with agitation,
Containing it,
Being it,
Waiting for it to go,

Besieged by longing
For a slow down,
Yearning towards ease,
But chaotic mind,
Not easily appeased.

Civilize: Thinking the Unknown

Thinking, ‘this is unknown.’ Thinking, ‘the unknown is somehow dangerous.’ This is thinking. Recognize, accept, investigate, non-identification, fold it into practice. I did not always think this way. I thought I knew what I was supposed to do. Now I know better; now I ‘don’t know’ better (accept not knowing better than before).
Perhaps practice is not about knowing but about how to ‘don’t know’ better. Once upon a time, I had no trouble at all not knowing. Then for some reason I got the idea that knowing was the thing to have confidence in, that knowledge was the place to anchor myself. But what is knowledge? What is knowing?

Maybe it’s good to know certain methods, certain techniques, but at the end of the day, there’s just this moment. Ironically, that’s how I lived in the first place; that was how it was early on. I was taught something else that was only half of it. I took this half for the whole and abandoned, forgot the other half.

I was persuaded that this other half was dangerous, unsafe, but it’s merely the other half. This perpetual contraction is learned, required effort. It’s something I learned how to do. Thus, all I am learning is balance between the innate (what I came with) and what I have learned, between instinct and rules/philosophy/structure/ culture/order, between chaos and order; bringing chaos to my order and order to my chaos. Life is a mixture, a blending, a continuous, unified whole.

Civilization: Know-where

Thinking,
Ruminating—Stopped
And noticed:
Mindfulness of thinking.

Every time
I stop and notice
Is helpful
And skillful.

It doesn’t matter
When it happens
Or how long in between,
It’s still beneficial.

Whether I be
Caught in
Craving or aversion
Every return is important,

Being found
After getting lost
In the deep end
Is valuable, educational,

Learning how to
Find my way back,
As significant as
Being here,

Missing now,
Not knowing it,
Is what I need to
Know it,

I have to know
Before I can forget,
And forget
In order to know:
This is the great mystery.

Civil: Breakfast Notes

Horrible depression,
Inertia,
Aching,
Discouragement
And despair.

What am I supposed
To do with this?
How do I practice
With such anguish
And difficulty?

I decided to
Practice the practice of
Keep moving,
Keep trying to do,
While being open,

To be present for
These states,
This situation,
This particular set
Of conditions.

But then I lay down
What is that?
I wrote this,
I started thinking,
I lay down,

I thought some more,
Then I got up again,
felt better,
And wrote again
Of what happened next.

Now what?
Eat my oatmeal, I guess,
And try to be present
For that too.

Circumstances: Pain Flow

Pain in the body,
But brought spaciousness
Of attention to it,
And felt quite comfortable,

Including everything
In my view
Filled my screen
Making pain a tiny fragment,

A seemingly irrelevant
Bit of fluff
That barely registered,
Hardly perceived.

Then, back to the body,
noticed pain in chest and back,
Looked for resistance,
But none appeared,

The discomfort
Held in acceptance
Flowed through
Without opposition,

No need for suppression
Or escape,
Simply sitting
And letting all be as is.

After that lost in thought,
For a time,
All things forgot
By the wandering mind,

Then came back to
The breath for
The last few minutes,
To hear the bell resound
And this meditation was finished.

Circumspect: Wake up Call

Noticed muscle tension,
But refrained from intervening,
Instead stayed with the tightness
Then relaxed a little

Observed relaxation,
Returned to the breathing,
Switched back to the body,
Thoughts took me away.

When I came back
Tension had re-emerged,
Was it the thought surge?
Do I have to tighten to think?

Why does concentration
Require strain?
Surely there’s nothing
To gain by such pressure.

From there drowsiness ensued
And a desire to lie down
‘Shall I lie down?’
‘No, I shall attend.’

What is it like
To sink into this tiredness?
I held it in awareness
And waited,

But just then
My timer
Bell signaled
The end of this session.

Time to get up!
Served as
A reminder
Of the present.

Circumscribed: The Drive Home

A colleague
Gave me a ride
Home from work
One night.

Exhausted
From sleeping badly lately,
Aching, sciatica
And back pain,

Feeling alienated,
Separate,
Cut off from
Everything,

Told myself to
Look at this
And see
What it was like,

To just
Be with this,
See if I
Could accept,

This misery
And blindness,
Being with this,
And I did.

Present for
Entanglement,
The illusion of
A disconnect,

But connected
With this experience,
Open to the moment
Such as it was:
Unpleasant yet remarkable.

Circuitous Recipe: Well Cooked

Being present for
Everything present,
Then attention to
The body.

Strong emotions
Agitating thoughts,
Like the stirring of ingredients
In a mixing bowl.

Rough day
All whipped up,
But rested in acceptance of
The way things were.

Such a struggle,
Up and down,
Layers of acceptance
And resistance,

Passing through them,
Alternating light and dark
Like a multi-layer cake
Baking in the oven,

So hot,
So energetic,
But expanding slowly
In a stately fashion.

No frosting here,
Just plain and simple,
One layer at a time
Happening all at once.

Awareness floats through it
Level by level,
Then the meditation is done,
And the results are left to cool
Until the next sitting.

Circuit: Resting in Chaos

When havoc sends me reeling
Peace comes from
Fully being in turmoil,
Resting in what’s happening
Even if what’s happening
Is unpleasant.

From there
Anything is possible,
The infinite potential of
The moment
Is close at hand,
Fully present.

Confidence comes from
Here,
Even when
I can not
Yet see it,
Everything settles in.

From possibility
Arises reality,
From reality,
Possibility,
In a closed circuit,
Nevertheless infinite.

It never makes sense,
Nor nonsense,
Static flow,
But dynamic
Frozen,
Nonetheless fluid.

Circle: Back to Back

When I signed up for the meditation course for the first time, I knew that, in a way I was reaching out from my ‘mountain hermitage,’ like a wounded bear that had retreated to the den to recover. I am not sure what I wanted or expected, but that teacher sure shook the mountain. Nevertheless, after careful consideration, I decided to come back for a second round, and I was not disappointed. This sort of thing may not be for everyone, however, so I caution my readers—take care, before you embark on this journey.

Be sure you have your safety straps well fastened before you go. I had few moorings to hold me, and I practically fell off the mountain myself, but I still think the time was right; I’d waited as long as I could, and best of all felt as if I had no place else to go, which is the only reason I can think of why I would have gotten into this. For, as I explained in the first place—I was merely looking for a way to get through the day without screaming. Now I think screaming can be good sometimes; it can even be productive, if you are paying attention, and even if you’re not. That is the paradox of practice.