Poppies

I was struck by the vibrancy of the poppies shown here. The display 'pulled me up sharp' as I suddenly saw it before me.

Summer

This past week the weather has been fine; summer has finally arrived. By June the cold, late spring came to a fairly abrupt end and everything which had been waiting to grow sprang into life in the gardens and countryside. Now the first flush of spring is fading, early flowers have past and I note a slight feeling of distress. It feels like summer has only just arrived yet it is already racing into autumn! Soon it will be the longest day! In my mind it is only the turn of the year yet here we are halfway through! It's something I forget;  each plant has it's own annual cycle, not all flowers have a long season, although some do, and there are early and late bloomers. Nonetheless, my favorite time of year is the late spring / early summer. Everything seems full of promise. Funny how as that promise unfolds into the present there can be a sense of loss; maybe it's because I live in Northern Britain where the winter is long and the summer short or maybe it's something more in my own conditioning. There's no getting away from impermanence. And thank goodness for that! What would life be without it? And interesting to see this little bit of dukkha spring up as I see the fallen flowers. Did I soak them up enough when they were in their prime? Is that very thought just more craving? As I write I see that my reaction to what is going on in the garden may well be a reflection of my feelings about my 46th birthday tomorrow. I'd no idea I was going to write that! Anyway, life is good and the Buddha land is ever present. More and more this becomes my reality.

Red

I was washing some things by hand this morning and as the sun shone in through the window it illuminated this deep Red. 'Wow, what is it?' I thought. Followed by, 'Don't think, be'. I noticed some sense of a Red seen long ago, some essential RED, vibrant, fun and joyous, somehow full of promise. A vague recollection of, of what? Childhood? I dashed for my phone to take a picture. The sun had faded a bit by the time I got back but here is the picture.

Under water the colours are bright and rich. Above water the light is reflected and the Red is replaced by White. The contrast of other colours lends vibrancy to the Red. Stripes add playfulness.  :)

And then released...

A morning this week:

Me: 'How are you?'
My friend: 'I feel happy!' Bright smile and an element of surprise.
Me: 'So do I; I wonder what it is... I wouldn't worry; it'll pass.' Bright smile.
We acknowledge each other and the fleeting nature of it all; things arising and passing. Joy.

Later this week followed a separate exchange with someone else about psychological 'baggage' and therapy. We agreed that acknowledging but not becoming our stuff requires ongoing effort. We mused over the balance between feeling as opposed to repressing on the one hand and indulging on the other. Further, we agreed, sometimes therapy is good; it can move things on, help get a clearer and more helpful picture. But too much going over stuff is just running ones finger around the groove. It doesn't help, it just wears the groove deeper. At some point one has to just stop it. Bob Newhart's comedy sketch came to mind.

Oh if it were that simple! Some wounds are deep and it's probably true that they can't be fully healed or at least there will always be some scar tissue and some pain. And yes this can be enriching, it can make one wiser and more compassionate. As in the words of the Leonard Cohen song;

    Forget your perfect offering
    There's a crack in everything
    That's where the light gets in

Today there has been drama unfolding and passing in my life; buttons being pressed, roles being lived out. I am still a bit mystified as to just what personal scripts of mine seem to have been running in all this! Sometimes I feel like a caricature of myself.  Actually it can be a bit of a one man pantomime! Life as an other of my great friends points out is a great gift. He is of course pointing to life's wonderful way of teaching.

Then tonight over dinner with my friend moments of open and honest sharing of long held suffering and the ongoing journey to feel it, understand it and turn it from suffering into (just) pain and to heal that into acceptable discomfort unfolded and passed. The moments pass and our connection is gently deepened.

Then I read Jade Mountain Buddha Hall and see that RM Mugo points to the need to put things down. And to do this with compassion. Yes! Coming to see what is being held and to put it down with compassion especially when we do this together is a very deep aspect of our humanity. Our stories are not to be thought of as just baggage to be put down; they need to be honoured, held in compassion and then released. Going, going, going on beyond, always going on beyond, always becoming Buddha.

What it is about blue

Last night reading in bed with Satie gnossiennes - 1. lent playing I glanced up at the window opposite. It was the blue hour and through the curved top sash window the sky was deep blue and glossy; blue glass. Both the music and this blue glass each individually take me to a space of contemplation, together more so. A portal opens. I think of those Rothko paintings that though muted somehow form a pulsating portal through which we might almost step through. Almost; the transcendent remaining somehow visible and yet remote. No, this blue glass forms a frame through which it seems I've already passed; somehow although it remains 'out there' on the other side of the room, I am already through. The sky beyond though not visible as such is much deeper than the distance to the window and I am somehow there; through the window. And there is the sensation of BLUE. No other colour has this energy.

Surender (and you are home)

Last Sunday I returned to Cluny. I would have been back sooner but I was laid low by some kind of 'flu and so a week at home turned into two. I'd returned home to be with DC when he came back from a month in India. The thing is, 'home' starts to feel like 'holiday'; I live and work in the Findhorn Foundation in Northeast Scotland and have a home a whole day's travel away in the Northeast of England. I've been living this way for the best part of the past three years and DC and I have developed a long distance relationship. I have disassociated home from one physical location; I have a life spread over two places. However, 'home' remains our house and us together in England. This way of living has changed things and I've no idea where it is going or how long it will continue. Reflecting on this yesterday I felt I was treading water and generally stuck. Then I reflect over events of the morning and see that life is calling me to become involved in yet another project in the FF. I make a further contribution, reflect on my day and see that there is no stuckness  in it. There is a lot of engaged surrender to life. This surrender does not come without fear and some resistance; some not surrendering, but largely I am at home with things as they unfold including the fear.  And in truth how much control do any of us really have? I / we fear what may unfold and feel a need to control events to prevent fears becoming facts. We are not without influence, we do have some stear over the direction of our lives if not the road it travels, but our control is limited and so much fear is wasted energy. I am guided by a 'spiritual' aspiration, practically that is an aspiration to follow the Buddhist precepts. I don't hold the words of these in mind. I hope the core of the precepts has entered into my way of being and living, that I live by the dharma. Of course at times I fail to follow the precepts. Meditation off the cushion shows this up and in so doing demonstrates the dharma. This is 'home'.

I check Lee's blog Future Health 2020  later in the evening and see he refers to my words to him about surender. I am touched that I may have given him something of use on his journey. And deeper, I hope that in someway the dharma is becoming part of his reality too. His blog is a real inspiration.  Then later my friend Susan and I talked; it was a wonderful and deep sharing. Not hugely emotional but very deep. Each of us seem to have worked through many of our demons and have surrendered to life as it unfolds in each moment. Susan is going 'non-res'; moving out of living in community and into her own home. One way or another we reflect on 'home'.

My friend (and spiritual guide) Rev Master Mugo says 'give up and look up'. This points to surrender, to giving up and not giving in, to accept what comes and doing what needs to be done. Be it a quiet day, a busy day, a healthy day, a day with the 'flu or a day with cancer it is an other day. We surrender and find we are at home. May we all be at home and in good health and may the merit of this post be with you Lee.

Blessings to you Lee

A number of times over the past few weeks I've thought to write about what was unfolding. Usually it's been one of those times when both the drama of human life and the stillness holding the drama have been visible to me. Those times when it's possible to see not just (possibly unreasonable) behavior but the pain generating it in an other person together with a sense of my own emotional response and an awareness of holding the situation without becoming it (well, at least not too much). The extent that 'the master is at home' varies in my day to day experience and there is nothing like a bit of a drama to let me see just how aware I am; do I get hooked and carried away in habitual response or remain present and compassionate? Those were the seedlings of a post, but the time and energy to write did not collided; the muse eluded me. Then a friend pointed me in the direction of Lee's blog Future Health 2020. Reading it I feel Lee writes well and conveys the depth of his journey. In this post Lee writes of 'the call to action' inspired by this:

“Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back. Concerning all acts of initiative (and creation), there is one elementary truth, the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then Providence moves too. All sorts of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have occurred. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one’s favor (sic) all manner of unforeseen incidents and meetings and material assistance, which no man could have dreamed would have come his way. I learned a deep respect for one of Goethe’s couplets:

Whatever you can do, or dream you can do, begin it. Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it!” 

 William Hutchinson Murray (1913-1996), from his 1951 book The Scottish Himalayan Expedition.

I first came across these words when doing The Mastery workshop some years ago. The workshop was originally developed by Dan Fauci and the one I did was run by amongst others, the very insightful India Brown who lives and works in the Findhorn Foundation. It's probably fair to say that a slight 'Findhorn twist' is given to the presentation of the workshop (by virtue of the language used) as it is run by India. The 'call to action' was however, very much a part of the workshop. What holds us back? What stops us living each day as if this (moment) is all there is? It could be a projection, but I've a feeling Lee is taking a moment grabbing approach to his journey with non-Hodgkin lymphoma and I imagine it will take him to a deep part of himself, a part that in its stillness holds all. Blessings on you Lee, keep putting one foot in front of the other doing what the moment is asking of you with as much heart as you can muster. There is a majesty in that.