(continued from Part I, My Little Run-Away)
Where has the run-away bunny gone? Into what 18- to 24-inch snowdrift could he be hiding, this Winter of 2009-2010?
Where has the run-away bunny gone? Into what 18- to 24-inch snowdrift could he be hiding, this Winter of 2009-2010?
So many choices. So many books to read, words to digest. How do you know where to begin?
- “Whenever I interact with someone,
May I view myself as the lowest amongst all,
And, from the very depths of my heart,
Respectfully hold others as superior.”
A white cap of snow covers the head of the Buddha statue in the side yard of my Conshohocken home. Snow blankets his shoulders, his lap and that part of his robe that crosses his chest from the top left shoulder to the mid-section of the belly on the right.
Can I give a flower to a Buddhist?
To show the impermanence of beauty.
QUES: What did Buddhist want on ordering a hot dog? ANS: “One with everything.”
I tasted the fruit of another’s belief and want to savor it for a long time to come.
For the first time in my life, I attended a Buddhist gathering knowing that I wanted to learn more about meditation and the teachings about compassion and loving kindness.
I sometimes feel that Patience waits for no man.
War is good for no one.
No one is good for war.
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If you view no other video the rest of your meditative life, please see this one about Jill Bolte Taylor.
I hear a young voice behind me. At first, I think it was a boy. Turns out, it’s Mary Kate, a 7-year-old girl. She’s crying. Not loudly, but softly, as if she’s hurting somewhere no one can comfort her.
Meditation paid off in an unusual dividend today.
It helped me obey traffic signs, thereby avoiding a ticket I would surely have gotten on another day.  Continue reading
Opening up oneself can be hazardous to your health.
A small miracle is happening right before our eyes if we only open our hearts to see.
I finally did something I thought I would never do:
Look at the End of a Book to see the Conclusion.
Quantum Physics is something I can hardly spell, let alone learn more about.
My 10th-grade mathematics teacher whispers the horrible news: “Somebody shot the president.”
The original Blog Post listed all of the countries that readers who left messages had lived at one time.
Needles punctured my ears for the first time in my life this week.
Acupuncture was being offered for one free session to veterans on Veterans’ Day, and I appeared at the WON Institute in Glenside, PA, to take advantage of the procedure. The practitioner, Ed Cunningham, was kind, offering me some cheese and crackers as we made small talk and I got ready for the event.
Put a straitjacket on me.
“Opening up” to a stranger is, at best, difficult to do. Confiding your “War Zone” fears with a non-veteran can be worse, unless PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) serves as a bond between a brother and a sister.
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Can’t get in the front door because the public computer is restricting my entrance. It says that I have, among other things “Italian pornography” in or on my Blog.
Take time to see and feel the moment when our Inner Self projects love or gratitude or joy, simply because we gave ourselves a “taste” of our child, a picture of our child. (For me, I get to stretch out a warm feeling of love when I think of my dog “Willie” whose been dead for some 20 years but visits me routinely in my dreams.)
Michael J
Seeing life in another lane, in another person, at another time and place, can bring out something inside of you that was there all along, but was unable to surface until a precise moment developed.
Looking back, you wonder, how could I have not seen this before? Where was my mind, and why did I overlook it when it stared me straight in the eyes, begging me for just the slight payment of attention?
Meditation rewarded me with what Buddhists call “Nothing” at the end of a traumatic day Saturday.
I was at a conference involving brain injuries when I noticed on the day-long schedule that mindfulness meditation would be “discussed” for survivors and their caregivers at Jefferson Hospital in Philadelphia, PA. Unable to talk my loved one into “taking” a “seat,” I went alone, and was surprised to see so many of the newly acquired friends I had just made while attending previous workshops earlier in the day
We had immediately bonded. Our presence here was aimed at helping those with traumatic brain injuries (TBI), an injury my wife received when she fell down some steps in our home. It seemed that the calm and the rest that meditation provides was the perfect reward to those of us who look after others.
And even if a thought seeps in, one could gently “nudge” it away or allow oneself to “mind fully” follow the thread of that thought. We meditated briefly and were to practice again, when a question-and-answer session developed that nearly threatened to disrupt the peace I felt was just starting to manifest.
“What do you do if you think of something really important while meditating?” a young man in the audience asked. “You write it down,” the instructor said. Later, she added that “you write it down mindfully,” adding that “awareness“ in the moment was a chief goal of mindfulness.
This led to disagreements with a few of the “expert” meditators in the group, who indicated that such an action was close to heresy.
“You don’t do that with TM,” one fellow said. He later told me he had spent $500 in the ’70s to learn transcendental meditation, and its purpose was to “block out” thoughts. I don’t know why he spent all that money. I guess it was worth it to follow in the footsteps of the Beatles when meditation first swept into our nation’s consciousness back then. I learned it — meditation — for free. Never had to pay a penny for a mantra.
What about the path of Buddhism, another soft-spoken guy quietly asked. He added that thoughts were to be set aside while the meditation seeks the “void” within.
“You mention nothing about compassion,” the Zen practitioner added. “Does mindfulness encompass this?’ he posed.
———–
The woman quickly showed why she had earned a PhD, explaining that there was only so much one could discuss in a 45-minute presentation, and that she wanted the great majority of us to actually “practice“ meditation, and not talk about it. That satisfied me, a novice in this debate. All I wanted to do was surrender to the moment and touch that “Nothingness” that calms my very soul.
I got energized and left the conference less traumatic than when I had arrived. Meditation will do that to you sometimes. Better than a couple of glasses of red wine to cap off your day.
First photos from Greece appeared on my Blog today. They were photographed from the Aegean Sea port off the tiny volcano island of Nysiros, which boasts all of four small fishing villages.
What do anger, dreams, PTSD, and “Letting Go“ of one’s past have to do with each other? They’re all part of a discussion on vetting our emotions through dreams to deal with our conscious selves. Join me and another Michael J in our recent comments to his post: Practicing for the Bardo by Urbansannyasin
Continue readingHaving more than an hour before getting breakfast, I wondered whether I should write something or seek refuge in a “sitting meditation.”
Continue readingUnable to curb my road rage today, I finally grasped a thread of my PTSD and traced it back to its source.
Continue readingBumping into the wall and walking to the edge of a swimming pool with eyes firmly shut is not the best way to do a Walking Meditation.
Continue readingClose your eyes, and you might see.
See the weightlessness that your body becomes as you float on the waters of a nearby spa.
Ever learn about yourself while giving heartfelt advice to someone else?
Here’s a Little Food for Thought:
Why is text messaging confined only to a hand-held devise?
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How do you say you’re sorry to a people whose country you bombed in the name of peace and democracy?
What words can you use after saying that you are personally sorry for the Vietnam War and the mistakes our government made some 40 years ago?
Continue readingI’m off to the Omega Institute where I will take part in a workshop on PTSD for Veterans while also exposing myself to meditation techniques that will open me more to the “Untrodden Path.”
God damn it. I forgot the lead I wanted to write here.
Continue readingI offered to help some people today whose car had broken down.
When I want to (need to?) quiet the chatter inside of me, I play a little music in my head — sort of like a mantra — that becomes a lullaby for the Mind.
I must go.
And so, I simply say ‘Goodbye!’