The Non-questing of Quality ...

Castle of Beynac - 1
Originally uploaded by Ben Heine
I am reading the cult-classic philosophy book, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. It's the homework assignment for my advanced study class in our non-dual healing school. I tried reading this a little over 20 yrs ago when I was newly sober and nothing in it made sense. Sporting a different set of lenses (and aquiring another 2 decades of life wisdom) I am both delighting and wrestling with the concepts the narrator proposes as ways of looking at the world, which include the notion that everything we see is not real because each thing is a construct of our mind. Still having trouble wrapping my brain around that one.

We were assigned this book because it is the perfect companion, I feel, to our non-dual work -- with a particular emphasis on Quality.
What resonated with me in this book is the idea that Quality is neither objective nor subjective but instead is a 3rd entity. We have practices and healings in the body of our teachings which enable us to experience this "3rd thing" . We get to "it" by not questing or efforting but rather in "allowing". It often involves the holding of 2 things simultaneously, which gives way to a 3rd thing arising. This is what the author, Robert Pirsig, is suggesting through his primary character's stance about quality : to hold the idea of objective and subjective will allow for a 3rd entity to surface --- this is Quality and it cannot necessarily be defined concretely or identified sensorily. It is akin to what my teacher sometimes refers to as "is-ness".

I chose the photo for this entry in an attempt to experience the 3rd entity of quality. An objective viewer who looked at this for photo excellence would certainly deem it, I believe, as having quality. The subjective eye which is drawn to the ethereal beauty of how the photographer captured this scene would likely find this to be quality.
So ... I stood in front of this photo and held and nested these opposing forces: objective quality and subjective quality, using the words: "composition" and "beauty" . After a few minutes, the photo disappeared from the experience. A wave, a rush of feeling went from my toes, expanding my chest area ... this was still the after currents of the subjective experience of its beauty ... and then, a shimmering stillness ... the sensation I experience when engaged in impersonal movement or in the midst of a healing.

It was essentially effortless to do this. All that was required was a willingness to experience, be witness to what bubbled up to reveal itself. It lasted but a few moments, perhaps not even 30 seconds.

There is no longer an object that is my focus as I write in this moment. There is a lived experience that occupied this space that is lingering. I feel the pulsing of Life here. There is a movement that is greater than this space that I have had my big toe in.

I have no more words ...

The Difference Project ...

Elégance
Originally uploaded by krysmo

I have been on an extended writing hiatus. Busy schedule, full life and not much in the way of real contemplative time. Not too shabby on one hand; a noticeable void on the other hand. Not devoting time to writing is like taking off from the gym because I walk a lot in between appointments. There is a difference between the two realms. Writing for me is a necessary pausing -- to reflect, to dig in and around, to reach, to explore. There is intention and I am very present.

I watched a video 2 days ago posted on my non-dual healing teacher's website, enlightment online, http://www.en-on.com. He makes a suggestion to the audience to do something for a week --- to let people be exactly who they are. On the surface, sounds like a no-brainer. But, if I get very honest and real about this proposition, it is a very uncomfortable, scary undertaking. Because this alcoholic has expectations of how things and people should be. And when they are "different", I can get squirmy and anxious and feel my history being activated.

Nonetheless, I have embarked on this mission.

You are to do this with a co-hort, someone you can be accountable to so that you each may share your progress, your struggles and your observations of how you are allowing for difference, letting people be themselves. My co-hort is another alcoholic, who I have come to know well in my local AA community.

Yesterday was Day 1 of the Difference Project.

My first opportunity was sitting in a classroom meeting 8 students at a new university that I have began to teach at this semester -- a social work seminar class to accompany their field placement experience. The first person I met was a Latina young lady. I watched her size me up. I watched myself do the same back. Another Latina woman sat next to her. They began to converse in Spanish. I felt a pang of discomfort, then judgment and paranoia: "This is what these people do when they're around non-Spanish speaking people. How rude ! I bet they're talking about me." As soon as I caught wind of my stinkin thinkin, I settled back down into myself and remembered the mission of this project. When I could do this, let these women be who they are, I felt a wide smile form inside. The "left out" feeling literally left. I took in their chatter with curiosity. They smiled back at me from time to time. And then, they began to talk in English and included me. What an interesting shift...

Several more students entered the space. Two white young ladies accompanied by a white male. He darted about very quickly and I watched him chug-a-lugging an energy drink. Another judgment popped up: "He's all hyped up on that stuff, what a handful he's gonna be." Again, I stopped. Paused. "Let him be ..." An African American woman entered very bubbly and extended her hand to me. It was a warm exchange. Lastly, another white girl and an older African woman came in. The African woman had a very thick accent. Another wrinkle in my system was here: "It's gonna be hard understanding her and they can be so pushy. I worked with plenty of them." I literally in my head said to myself: STOP. RIGHT. NOW.

And I began class, having sorted through my judgments and places of non-acceptance, seated on my tush of welcoming difference.

The class unfolded beautifully. There was a richness and an aliveness that my teacher said we would surely experience if we gave this project a go. Each person was indeed a mystery that I wanted to unwrap. I wanted to be surprised. I felt open to receiving each one.

I learned the most from the African woman. She had a great deal of invaluable life experience that makes her an asset to her current field placement. I was pleasantly surprised to see the struggle of one of the white girls and the white male, as I would often expect them to be the ones to excel through my biased, prejudiced lenses. I was tickled to hear the eloquence of one of the Latina girls as she spoke in broken English; while her speech was not perfect, her understanding of the clientele at her field placement was spot-on.

The same kinds of experiences continued to happen during my night class. I giggled aloud and was connected in ways to these students that I had not yet allowed myself to because of how their difference became a barrier rather than a gateway.

Lastly, I was the most challenged to be steeped in this mission in a text exchange with the woman I love last evening. To fully accept her where she is. To simply receive and hear her as she briefly shared how she is working through something, which could not yet be shared with me, because it is not yet known to her. I rode out waves of my history and our history in relationship. Not straying from the mission of this Difference Project, I stayed open and curious. "Let her be quiet. Let her find her way. This is not personal. This is not a rejection. This is not her abandoning connection to you. This is her journey. She runs, then returns. Let her go..." And that is exactly what I did.

I look forward to seeing the unraveling of the mystery that she is too.

And, I can't wait to see who and what today brings my way ...

Snow, Snow ... Friend or Foe ???

Originally uploaded by mallory,

My relationship with winter has been a constant struggle.

This year, more than ever, it is about my nemesis ... SNOW.

And, more than ever, it is REALLY about my self-will and trying to control the snow.

Add to the mix a car that has no control in the snow and there is a perfect recipe for ...

POWERLESSNESS !!!

Tis the lesson I learned last evening, reading Step 3, line by line.

If I shifted my dependence on my Higher Power and the 12 Steps rather than mastering the unplowed streets of my city in a car that simply is not made to do so, I would experience serenity and would not see snow as an evil force of nature that blocks me from doing what I need to do.

This all came to a head yesterday after I drove in circles unable to find parking, got stuck several times with tires spinning on ice, as I attempted to see therapy clients who reside in a part of the city that rarely sees the likes of a snowplow. The "crazy" part of this scenario is that I kept doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results ! THAT is the definition of insanity.

I arrived home, worn out, disgusted, with my proverbial tail between my legs. I saw myself as defeated because I saw snow as the foe, instead of really "seeing" it for what it really is.

I am grateful and humble this morning for my battle with the elements last night. It brought me to a place of utter surrender, with the recognition that it is only me that is my greatest foe and not those piles of white stuff. Letting snow be snow is the true victory.

The Path of Plants ...

2009'un ilk fotoğrafı!!!!/EXPLORE
Originally uploaded by an&bs
I have not written in quite awhile.

My thoughts and expression have been a very internal process.

I am back from a 4 day retreat at my non-dual healing program where I learned another practice that is an extension of a previous one. It has to do with curvilinear space. And the fact that it is in and around everything and everyone. The practice offers the intentionality and steadiness to work with this space.

This morning as I practiced, I was drawn to the space where the leaves of my plants bent toward and followed. As I held my hands, palm side out, to feel this ... I could literally sense a "path" of growth where the plant's leaves would naturally move toward. I looked out my window and saw that the huge trees' branches had the very same movement, with less limits than a room, so theirs was a growth path that was not bounded except for the roof and chimney on one side.

Which got me thinking about mountains. And how the highest ones perhaps also followed a skyward path, informed by the vegetation that grew in its earthy skin which craved being closer to the sun.

In my meditation space where I did this practice, the path of a plant on one side of the room would eventually reach the tips of the leaves of the bamboo plant on the other side of the room. And, interestingly enough, the bamboo plant's path was not in the direction of this other plant but rather it moved in curvilinear travel toward my bronze Quan Yin in the corner. As I moved toward her, an area of the room I actually am never intimate with, there were bands and bands of vibration that extended so far out that I could touch the curves of this space with the front of my chest and forearms and even the side of my face !

I learned today that plants have much to teach me. To follow their paths is to know that there is one for me too that wants me to bend and move toward so that I may grow in its light.

Between Ground and Sky

Between Ground and Sky
Originally uploaded by Könrad
Thousands
of prickly
caterpillar hairs
scraping against
my skin
from the inside-out
am i awake or
dreaming
this...

my eyes are WIDE open

chest collapses
like an accordion
puffing breaths out
note by note
heart beats pummel
my rib cage
room is closing in

drawing upon these years
of teachings
i plant feet firmly
to anchor
then let go
to the sweet surrender
and reprieve
of deep meditation


i am keenly aware
of the one who is
having these medication-induced
symptoms --
the personal i
and
the noticer who sees her --
the impersonal i and not i

i watch my head stretch
then twist
in odd distortions
eyes fully dilated
as i look up from brushing my teeth
this is not a funhouse mirror
i look into the face
of  insanity

only a few threads
separate
the real
from the surreal
in this trip
i took
between
ground and sky

Letting God Swim Us ...

Originally uploaded by unaman

My healer/teacher gave a tender, heart-filled lecture yesterday via a teleconference. Perhaps 50 or more seeking souls were listening. You could not hear a one of us because the sound was muted except for our teacher's voice. But you KNEW and FELT the connection of an entire community was ever present and alive during this hour and a half. It was deeply intimate.

I was still in pajamas, stretched out on my overstuffed chair, blanket wrapped around me, tissues strewn around from bouts of blowing snot due to a sinus infection. My ears were glued to every word, in spite of my hacking cough, and this too was sacred.

My favorite part of her lecture had to do with a Zen tale about how fish could make it through rough waters ... it's because they let the river swim them. Perhaps this is what is meant about being "in the stream of life". Later, in response to a listener's question about how to overcome seeing things as separate, our teacher made the reference back to this story, altering the metaphor just a bit ...

"We let God swim us."

I took to this like ... [pun intended] ... a fish to water.

If I am God and each one of us is God and every living thing is God, then there is no "God out there or up in the air" . God-ness exists in every single thing, which makes every single thing a One-With-God thing.

In Step 3 of the recovery 12 Steps, we turn our will over to the care of God, as we understand God. Taking my will back and resisting surrender is akin to the fish that try to go against the raging current in the other direction because their way is better than how the river is intended to flow. When I let God swim me, I trust the direction and the flow, even when I feel like I might get knocked down by the rapids or pulled to the bottom by a strong undertow. I can trust that I will be carried and that I will not drown. It is only when I separate from God and believe my way is best that I risk getting swept away or sucked under.

This is, I believe, what our teacher referred to when she spoke so passionately about trusting what life brings us. For it is in this trusting, that we understand that God has never left us. The life we've been waiting for is the one we're already living.

Wherever I am in the stream, be it the calm pool at the bottom of the waterfall or the raging white water rapids, I can trust that is exactly where I am supposed to be.

And all I have to do is let God swim me...

Surrender is a Deep Well ...

Deep well
Originally uploaded by ilovemytripod
A long-timer in the program, a woman who I admire greatly shared this profound pearl of sober wisdom in tonight's Step meeting:

"We must acknowledge our powerlessness every morning as we rise. Step 1 gives us only a daily reprieve. Surrender is a deep well ..."

The room fell totally silent after she spoke, her words landing and locking into me like a missing piece to a complex puzzle. I really needed to receive this tonight.

This woman's statement is a reminder for me that this is truly a "one day at a time" program. Step work is never completed; it is, instead, a continuous, daily operation so that I may live soberly. It is what guides me to do the next right thing. It is what keeps me from picking up that first drink in any given moment when I am tempted or lose my way.

Surrender is a deep well. This statement rocks me to my core.

I don't just turn my will over to God or ask for a character defect to be removed today and it's a done-deal. I can very readily want to take my will back or find that my character defect has re-surfaced as early as the next day and this will require me to surrender once more. And, I am only guaranteed a reprieve for that day. Maybe not even for the entire day.

And this doesn't even account for the fact that there are defects that I have held onto and my denial or my resistance has put up a barrier that makes it very challenging for surrender to have a fighting chance. Just like the photo depicted at the top of this entry, it is quite dark and bleak at the bottom of the well. Some of us have to fall long and hard and often until we reach that place where surrender is our only way out from the hole we've created.

The recognition of powerlessness every single day in my morning prayers and my evening prayers keeps things real and green for me. I do not take my sobriety for granted any longer. Knowing I cannot do this alone and need God's help is the bucket that carries me up and out from the bottom of the well.