“Did you hear what I said? I’m pregnant.
Joseph. Aren’t you going to say anything?”
“What’s there to say?” the young carpenter named Joseph said to himself.
“You tell me an angel “appeared” and “announced” you were with child . . . You ask me to believe no man had anything to do with this.”  Continue reading
I saw more of the Divine in a beggar on the road to Calvary last year than I did in the three religions occupying Jerusalem. The beggar’s blindness beamed into me, and I’ll never forget the look on his face as I offered him Israeli shekels, and he bowed to me in thanks.
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Thank God for Buddhism.
What’s that you say?
I can’t have one in, and of, the other?
Are you telling this red-blooded American veteran that I cannot follow the teachings of the Buddha and still believe in the God of Abraham? Continue reading
My best friend died before I could tell him how much he meant to me.
Not a week goes by, that I don’t think of him or see him in my dreams. And if there is one thing I’d want to say to some new friend I might make in this life, it is that I truly treasure your “being there” for me. Continue reading
I want to give “thanks” today, but don’t want to offer it the Norman-Rockwell, “fake-it-‘til-you-make-it” way of the holidays. Instead, I want to share how grateful I am for such taken-for-granted “gifts” that I am only beginning to realize most of us have been given. Continue reading
On this Veterans Day, 11-11-11, what would you tell yourself if you could go back in time and greet that young man recently returned home from the war?
It snowed along the East Coast of the United States today (October 29, 2011), making it the first time in more than 30 years the white stuff appeared this early outside my Conshohocken, PA, window.
I remember the last time because it was so life-changing, and I wonder if today’s gift from above will have the same effect on me and my world.  Continue reading
“This is what you shall do; Love the earth and sun and the animals, despise riches, give alms to everyone that asks, stand up for the stupid and crazy, devote your income and labor to others, hate tyrants, argue not concerning God, have patience and indulgence toward the people, take off your hat to nothing known or unknown or to any man or number of men, go freely with powerful uneducated persons and with the young and with the mothers of families, read these leaves in the open air every season of every year of your life, re-examine all you have been told at school or church or in any book, dismiss whatever insults your own soul, and your very flesh shall be a great poem and have the richest fluency not only in its words but in the silent lines of its lips and face and between the lashes of your eyes and in every motion and joint of your body.”
- — Walt Whitman composed this for the preface to his poem “Leaves of Grass.”
- It tells how and why we all should occupy ourselves – all in one flowing sentence!
I never thought I’d be thankful for a stuffy nose, but it helped me to meditate without really trying. It all started on a day I was off from work, and I stayed in bed as ten thousand thoughts ran through my mind. I noticed a clogged nostril and focused all of my attention on trying to reopen it.  Continue reading
I looked into the other side of the political spectrum, and I saw something I hardly recognized.
I saw myself.
How did this come about, this kinship I felt develop with those I meant to separate from? 
And then I saw him as someone I could try to understand from my own perspective from within.
I too place the highest esteem on rugged individualism. I don’t want any handouts and I think persons grow stronger when they must conquer adversities in their lives including economic, social and physical ones.
I like the Second Amendment to the US Constitution and believe that a man has a right to defend himself — and more importantly his family — if he truly believes they’re threatened by serious bodily harm and taking another’s life is the only way to prevent deadly force.
I never want to hear that someone got an abortion or learn that a woman would ever find herself in such a desperate situation where the only option left to her was to choose such an irreparable action.
Government should stay out of my private affairs and require “means testing” for recipients of any programs the US and other industrial nations have created as safety nets. I would include America’s Social Security and Medicare programs in those categories.
I would do away with all wasteful regulations and give bonuses to government workers who devise plans to cut spending, even if it meant savings by trimming their own department’s annual budget.
I want someone to invoke the goodness and compassion of a higher force when someone opens public meetings, but it doesn’t have to be the One I believe in.
You know, I ain’t so much different from those guys “over there.” Now that I see how alike we are, perhaps we can whittle away at the differences we believe keep us so far apart. I think this could be the start of a beautiful friendship.(youtube.com)
(“We have met the enemy and he is us”
—from the old Pogo Comic Strip)
When I read the Occupy Wall Street demonstrators were unfocused and without a coherent message, I took a closer look at them in Philadelphia, and discovered some were disheveled street persons looking for handouts, and one was a graduate school political science major spouting Marxist teaching.
The greatest protest of our generation is seeking change in all shapes and sizes. You can see it in the signs the demonstrators carry, writing the letters out really big with magic markers so that passersby need not squint to get the messages.
There is not just one message, but many, which all have one thing in common: a belief that our world can do better for all and not just the few, the ninety-nine percent making $55,000 a year (per family) or less, as opposed to the one percent controlling some 40 percent of the wealth in the United States of America.
They don’t want your money, Mr. Entrepreneur, only your attention for a moral and ethical way of life that takes into consideration more than the Almighty Dollar.  Continue reading
It’s so wonderful to welcome you to visit. You return when I least expect you, embracing me and bringing peace and calm just when I still myself and end needless thoughts.
Are any thoughts actually needed when I go within? I need but seek a quiet moment with no thought save the intent to be free of the past and the future, thus ensuring I will rest “In the Now.”
It’s not based on my part alone. I find that I need the inspiration that others give me. You, who give your love so easily by opening your heart, unafraid of any consequences, allowing me to touch your soul and be one with you. Yes, I become one with you when the truth from the Source touches me as I hoped it would while writing from the depths of my inner being. It is then that I feel the kinship, the brotherhood with men and women alike.
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I seep into your arms, feeling the comfort that you offer. It is palpable, this feeling that arises. It is like a warm, fully lined coat, puffed up with weather-protected soft materials wrapped around me. I feel totally protected. Like a baby in a car seat with padding upon padding to ward off any harm.
I approach this level of consciousness by remaining perfectly still, freezing my body and then my mind. I sit with my eyes closed, taking in the sounds of a pet bird, motorists driving outside my home, and the ticking of a nearby clock.
It’s as close to heaven as I could ever imagine one could reach. I have no wants and no desires. I simply “am.”
Uh oh. I feel a slight pain in one leg, so I crossed over the other. Do I dare try to relieve this suffering by breaking the stillness? Can I remain in this state by easing my leg into a more comfortable position?
There, my leg is straightened out. I send my concentrated awareness to that part of the body that signaled the discomfort. I feel a warmth spread over that area. It is soothing. It blends in with the focus I still keep in this moment. I am still “In the Moment.” My peaceful calm has not been destroyed but simply adjusted. I need not fear slow, methodical actions to curtail my new, higher level of consciousness.
Should I experiment? Open my eyes and try to do something mundane? Ok, Michael, pay the bill. You can’t get any more mundane than that. You’re writing the check, placing it in an envelope. You’ve just used the left hemisphere of your brain; now let’s scoot back to the right side.
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There, you have it. Peace and calm are still here. You worked mindfully, just like the Vietnamese Buddhist monk, Thich Nhat Hanh, said you would.
Someone now asks you a question. You answer from what feels like a different world inside of you. You answer a second and third question, undisturbed and completely surprised that you can continue your feelings of love and happiness despite a break in your “meditative” posture. No, you don’t need to keep your eyes closed or to stay seated on a mat to be mindfully engaged with the world.
You just have to do it. Do these actions mindfully.
If you could only sell it to the world, we’d all live in peace and harmony. Hell, why don’t you just give it away freely?
As my world started to close in on me, demanding its immediate attention toward responsibilities, affairs of work, and needs in my house, I found an oasis inside of myself and in the thoughts of friends in my group.
Now, this ain’t just any ordinary group. It’s one where members have placed the concerns and desires of others above their own. It is a group of men and women, old and young, rich and poor, who have made altruism their guiding principle.
They — myself included when I can pick myself off the mat where I feel I’ve been beaten to time and again — give no advice but simply listen deeply to the concerns of another.
By opening our hearts, we let another pour out what may seem an insurmountable problem that somehow develops a miraculous solution once it is aired in the light of day. Some say it is the light that shines on our suffering that causes most predicaments to shrink in size, to be placed into a larger picture, and thus become more manageable.
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But you don’t know that when walloped to the side of your head by something that you did not see coming and want to fight against in the only way you know how: ferociously with no concern who you end up hurting. In most cases, the worst victim of your rage becomes yourself.
- That is why silence and a retreat from those worldly battlements are needed for replenishment. It is when I close my eyes to the chaos and uncompromising world that I begin to see hope and a cure for such destructive powers. I focus on naught but my breathing, mindfully nudging out thoughts of the moment until I can rest “in the moment” with no intrusions, save the golden silence broken only by breathing in and breathing out.
Then I visualize a friend or two from the group, a friend whose mere touch had lifted my spirits, one whose soft smile eased my heart and guaranteed — a mutual guarantee — that life is better than what our limited five senses can sort out.
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Tone it down, America. You are cutting off your nose to spite your face. The face of the body politic, that is, we are creating needless hurt for the countrymen we’d like to lead to our mutual goal: the pursuit of happiness.  Continue reading
Jobs have a way of defining us. We become “the job,” or rather grow into what we perceive to be the “ideal performer“ of that job. Whether we like it or not. The job. Or ourselves.  Continue reading
“Make yourself a Rav, and buy for yourself a friend.”
— Rabbi Yehoshua Ben Perachya Continue reading
Swimming meditation can work. You heard it here first. One can “nudge” out most thoughts and focus on the “here and now” as you swim one lap after another. I did. Got so relaxed, I lost count for a while, but then didn’t care how many lengths I had traversed.
Got into something Tibetan Buddhists call “analytic meditation,” where you focus on one subject and one subject only, viewing several aspects of an idea without clinging to, or being repulsed by, it. Works better while swimming on my back. Breathing, that is. You anchor meditation by your breathing, you know. Can’t raise your level of consciousness in shallow water. Must use deep long breaths. At least I have to. The kind of breathing I can safely do only while swimming the back stroke. Over and over again. Counting from one to 36 the number of lengths of the pool making up a half mile.
Kind of like a “walking meditation,” but at a faster clip. If I slowed to the pace I usually take while walking meditatively, I would sink like a stone. Drop to the swimming pool floor, and be forced to seek reincarnation quicker than I had hoped to see a new Life evolve.
I’m exercising my body and my mind while in the water. Exercising the mind, you ask? Yes. Stretching it out. That’s how I view meditation now a days. I try to use more than that 2 percent of the brain we normally use. Push my mind to the limit, try pushing the envelope toward the rare space where only the Mystics get to breathe.
You can do it. Swimming creates endorphins that lay the foundation for raising your consciousness, for rising to that spiritual Upper World where you become One with the Universe. OK, you’re not going to win the lottery by divining the daily number. But, you will open yourself to an awareness of an interconnectedness between all of us. Democrat and Republican. Jew and Arab. Me and You.
Care to try it? Just close your eyes, take a deep breath, and dive in. The water temperature is just right.
The Greatest Weekend — No. II
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Psalm 46: Continue reading
The one you see, hear and experience daily. And another one, where you pass through a veil that causes Amnesia once you step all the way through. You no longer have a past. You have no concern for the future, since you’ve accepted the fact that all you really need in this “New” world will be provided.
Joined a Meet Up which will require me to read and discuss something called “Kabbalah,” a belief system revered by Jewish mystics. Felt I was being “called” to explore it. Read a post by a fellow Greek, which led me to surf to a site on Kabbalah Yoga, and left a lengthy comment on a technique called the “ten-five rhythm.” You breathe in for 10 seconds, hold for five, and release for another 10.
Next, you “visualize” something that I’ve done on my own for over a year now and have never been able to accurately put into words or feel someone else on this Planet would understand.
Seeking, I’m Always Seeking
That’s the message I got from the site and it resonated inside, almost forcing me to want to know more. I googled “Kabbalah,” “Philadelphia Yoga,” five or six others terms I thought of, and couldn’t find anything remotely close to this reference of the heart. You see, I’ve experienced that sensation dozens of times while meditating.
Feeling love “pour out” of me and into the Cosmos because my small 5’6″-frame was too small, too inadequate, to contain the volume of energy flowing through me. I gotta let it out, and I’ve described that “opening process” as a “feeding of myself” — my essence — to those unloved in this world, this universe. The sick old man in Calcutta; the lonely orphan in Bangladesh; the desperate single mother in Birmingham, Alabama; the lost little Greek boy in Conshohocken, Pennsylvania.
Found a Kabbalah site outside Philadelphia (KABBALAH-BNEI-BARUCH-PHILADELPHIA). Read a few comments, saw several names with Ph.Ds and rabbi attached to ’em, and read a description of the organizers who seem to be searching as much as I have the past two years. Not sure what I’m searching for . . . maybe answers . . . Peace . . . God . . . Enlightenment. Perhaps all the above.
Committed myself to attending a Congress for Kabbalistic Practitioners meeting locally to discuss whatever serious Kabbalah students talk about. ( See: Kabbalah Mega Congress 2010.) Hope we’ll focus on the same God that Abraham spoke to, and who fathered three religions, one for the Jews, another for the Christians, and the third with the Muslims. According to my limited Kabbalah reading, one can find traces of the Jewish language in Hinduism, Buddhism, and, of course, many of our New Age beliefs.
All came from one single language, according to one view of the Kabbalah.
May have been more to the Story about Babylon than what I thought.
Don’t plan to convert. Just became a Buddhist, and have yet to break in my new sandals and robe. Think I’ll like this path. If I can pick from what my heart tells me is “True.”
Back talk. Anyone experiencing pain might know where I’m headed. My back is talking loud and clear, and no matter what I do, I can’t shut it up.
You opened my heart to something I closed years ago.
Not ready to look inside. Almost, but not just yet.
Your words touched me with a warmth I haven’t felt in a long time. They caressed me, and I liken it to a mother’s love and pride I couldn’t handle at the family reunion last Saturday.
Bizarre! Is this just a Curse?
Or a Wish for Good Fortune?
Not sure where this came from. Was meditating on the subject of “stillness,” and tracing my awareness of the world around and inside, when these words “arose.”
Laughing so hard, the five of us had to hush up, quiet down to prevent diners at the other restaurant tables from staring at our ruckus.
What caused all the belly laughs and guffaws? God. Well, let’s say the Spirit of God. How about something ‘Spiritual, but not Religious?’ Would you believe “Mystical?”
He rode the rails from East to West Coast, eating chicken and other foods he’d “gather” during the years crossing this great land, even ending up in Alaska, where he prospected for gold.
I never felt more like Don Quixote than when I represented a woman charged with a crime.
And while I didn’t want it, I’d feel called to “champion” her, even when it cost me my reputation, my sanity and my very career as a trial attorney.  Continue reading
Vivienne, you asked what I liked about the book “To Mister God, this is Anna.” All of the following are the direct quotes of the author Fryn, also known as Sydney Hopkins:
“Mister God wants you to be ‘I Am,’ like he is.”
“This is the curious nature of Mister God: that even while he is at the center of all things, he waits outside us and knocks to come in. It is we who open the door; Mister God doesn’t break it down and come in; no, he knocks and waits. Continue reading
Contoveros 