From The Under 35 Project: “And then you find your essence…”
|
Posted: 10 May 2013 07:00 AM PDT
 "They tell me that this is a story of courage," writes Sarah Lipton. "For me, it is a story that has been waiting to be shared for seven years."The briny spray hit our faces, sunshine glancing golden off the sea at our feet. Seagulls swooped and dived, crashing shells to shore. The surf kept rhythm with our heartbeats; the rocks cool beneath our seats. Running my hand along the rough edge of a barnacle, I felt the smooth, cold contrast of water swooshing along the rock's edge. My mother sat above me on a large seat of stone. She was too thin, but looked radiant. Without squinting, I could see a sort of light emanating from her. I had never seen anything like it, not with her. In that moment, my mother was regal, poised upon the stone as if it were a throne. I was a child again seated below her, even though I was almost twenty-five. I don't think I'd ever felt such respect, such awe before in my mother's presence. After gazing out to sea, she glanced at me, her eyes shining with love. It was then that my mom told me she was dying. My mother appeared to have made peace with her death in a way she had not with her life. She showed no fear in that moment, only sadness and love, and unwittingly, she guided me towards fearlessness. We sat on our stones together, crying and laughing. Joy in our connection sprouted the gush of tears. For the first time in my life we saw each other fully as human beings. Somehow, it took my mother's dying for me to see her and for her to see me. This was about a month before my mom died of pancreatic cancer. I had never loved her more than in that moment. I had also never felt so alive or awake, and it is only now, seven years later, that I feel I can write about it. Spiraling back in time, a snapshot of our relationship reveals a very different scene. It was only in my early twenties through practicing mindfulness meditation that I learned how to forgive my mother. Don't get me wrong – I had a wonderful childhood. But as I grew older, my mother was torn apart by circumstance and often lashed out in sharp, ripping anger. I was burned many times by that searing rage, learning to either fight back or shrink away. Sometimes I felt strong and could hold sway in an argument, but other times, I crumbled, depressed, deflated. The pinnacle was when, at eighteen, my mother kicked me out of the house and took away the keys. At nineteen and twenty, I launched into meditation practice on a regular basis. As I learned how to follow my breath on the cushion, I began to recognize if not understand, the rough and sometimes raw patterns of my mind. Identifying the webs that I wove for myself, I began to see that my mother too was in pain. In other words: when I began to recognize my own pain, I could see hers. My strands of confusion and assumptions were based on hers – how could I know peace within myself if she couldn't with herself? It was through peeling away the layers of my own onion mind, one breath at a time, that I began to see her concentric layers, began to see her as a person with a sad story of pain. And it was right around this time that she got sick. This is where the rubber hit the road for me with mindfulness practice – it wasn't about just working with my mind on the cushion, mindfulness had to extend beyond the cushion. There was no "practice for living" anymore, there was just living. In being present with my mother's dying, I began to learn how to be alive for the first time, tasting the thread that connects and binds us together as human beings. Strong and unbreakable, this thread links us regardless of the pain we might be in, the struggles we might encounter, or the things that might scare us about each other. The thread that connects is always there, weaving into the tapestry of our lives. In my practice lineage, this is called basic goodness. At the root, we are all decent and kind human beings with the full capacity to wake up and be present in our lives. It was terrifying for me, watching my mother slowly die. But it was also exquisite bearing witness to her slow relaxation into herself, probably for the first time. As I learned to trust myself, even on a physical level, recognizing that I wasn't dying just because my mother was, I reveled in my mother's beauty and was awed by the grace with which she accepted her death. Together, we rejoiced in her life. I can see now that it takes courage to be willing to engage: to be willing to step into fear and move through it. I felt charged to really be with my mother, to engage with her and her death in a full way. This willingness came from the strength of my practice on the cushion – I knew how to stay on the cushion through even the stormiest thoughts, not jumping up to get a mug of tea instead. Somehow, I realized that this was my only chance with her: both my first and last chance to show up and be present with my own mother. And everything transformed: feeling the pain in my body, feeling the grief wrack through me, the sobs endlessly rolling in, I was able to open to inordinate amounts of love, respect and joy. Tearing open my heart like this through a willingness to engage allowed strength, love and clarity to blossom and flower, healing the rifts that had divided us. This willingness to engage has to do with not shying away from the yuck. Being willing to face our own manure is what allows us to recognize our inherent richness, allows us to till the manure deep into the soil so that spring's flowers will blossom. Gaining this ability through meditation is what has allowed me to see that when someone else is struggling and reacting, it isn't a personal attack on me – it's their own muck covering their eyes and blinding them to the brilliance of things as they truly are. We all have muck that blinds us to the way things actually are – at least, I know I do – but for me, meditation reinforces my currency with true vision. Each moment is like a small life, a small death. The truth is that our lives embody the cycles of nature. As a koan a dear friend gave me elucidates, "dying – being reborn, dying – being reborn, and then you find your essence." There's a point at which we wear out our ancient habits of struggle and a point at which we realize who we really are. Then there is a sense of victory over fear, a sense of being alive, waking up in the face of this very moment, present with whatever is coming at us. Even if it is death. Each time we step up, open, and let go is a victory over the patterns that confuse us, and we are one step closer to recognizing our true essence, our basic decency. I frequently forget this, but meditation practice is what reminds me again and again. I can trust my own nature, even when I'm too busy worrying. I can tust the strength of my very being and know that I can face any situation that might arise: over and over, over and over. This is why they call it path. As a young woman making my way in my life, now without my mother, I feel the strength of her life flowing in my veins. Because of the grace with which she approached her death and the freedom that she found in herself, I too have learned to relax and know that I can rely on the tapestry of my life to guide me through. Thanks to this journey, I have begun to taste my strong, quiet, inner, outrageous essence. Anything is possible and by my relaxing with that, it might make it possible for you, too. …the only thing in the sky now is a wheeling hawk. The deep blueness of the blue, the vast openness of the sky allows the sun to penetrate and warm these aging bones even on this chilly autumn day. But I am young, yet, and my path is wide open. Now, whenever I hear the wind through the trees, smell the scent of salt on the air, caress the rough-smooth-soft-hard texture of rock, I know that I'm alive, and that my mother is in my heart. Sarah Lipton is the editor of The Shambhala Times. Currently, she lives at Karme Choling in Barnet, Vermont.
To see the rest of our Under 35 Project posts, click here. To read more and submit your own work, visit the project's website.
Read More @ Source | ||||||
|
We recently shared with you news about modern Tibetan thangka master Tashi Dhargyal, now working on a massive thanbochi – the first of its kind made outside of Tibet – in his new studio in California. Now, in this beautiful new video featuring his work and the school from which he learned his craft, you'll learn more about thangkas — including how they're made, and the unique way in which they convey Buddhist teachings. Read More @ Source | ||||||
|
Portland, Oregon, USA 9 May 2013 - Starting his first full day in Portland, the 'City of Roses', His Holiness the Dalai Lama drove to the Chiles Center of the University of Portland where he was given a traditional Tibetan welcome by members of the 600 strong Tibetan community who live here. He was received by University of Portland President, Father Bill Beauchamp and Speaker of the Oregon House of Representatives, Tina Kotek. They escorted him to an interfaith gathering before an audience of 4300, the theme of which was 'Spirituality and the Environment'. In her introduction, Speaker Kotek quoted His Holiness's advice at the time of the Rio summit to "think of the one world to which we all belong."
"Spiritual brothers and sisters, brothers and sisters, I am very happy to be here for this, my first engagement on this visit to this beautiful city. Religious faith only exists among human beings; animals don't have it. When people are facing difficulties beyond their control, their faith brings hope. When we are about to become angry and full of hatred, what restrains us is a sense of forgiveness. All the major religious traditions recognise this. "Because we live in different kinds of environment and climatic conditions, we have developed different kinds of faith, but their goal is the same, to strengthen our basic sense of love and compassion. However, in order for that to be effective we need to take our religious practice seriously, not treating it just as some kind of ritual to be run through. For many of us, our faith only seems to appear when we are in the temple, church, synagogue or mosque. In our day to day life we give in to anger, hatred and so forth, destructive emotions that can lead to violence." He reiterated that while adopting religion is a matter of individual choice, if we do so, we should do so sincerely. He said that from time to time it is also important that religious leaders get together like this to show that in spirituality we share a me! ssage of peace. Because history is marked by incidents of conflict and bloodshed in the name of religion, it is important to work for and to demonstrate harmony among our spiritual traditions.
Regarding the natural environment, Father Bill quoted Genesis: "And he looked on everything he had created and saw that it was good." This, he said, is an expression of the precious gift with which we have been entrusted. Grandmother Agnes Pilgrim recited a long prayer calling on Grandfather - God - to inspire us to care for the earth, the air and, most of all, the water, but also praying for the welfare of Tibetans.
His Holiness agreed that we have to take seriously that to some extent our behaviour affects the environment and consequently the climate. Therefore we have to take steps to protect this world, which is after all our only home. He mentioned small things that we can all do and which he does himself like turning off the lights when he leaves the room and showering instead of running a full bath. Father Bill concurred, saying that when he grew up no one gave any thought to taking care of the world; they just took it for granted. That way of thinking needs to change, indeed the younger generation today do think differently about it.
His Holiness was asked about his relationship to the environment in Tibet. He said that because of the small population the environment was pure and beautiful. In Tibet all the sources of water were clean and he was shocked to learn when he came to India that in many places water was too polluted to drink. This was a case of ignorance corrected by experience. He mentioned that the Tibetan plateau is so crucial to the water supply of about one billion people in Asia that one Chinese ecologist referred to Tibet as the Third Pole. He expressed the hope that those who recklessly exploit such resources in Tibet can also be educated to change. Grandmother Agnes commented that while laughter is the cheapest medicine, water is the best; we should be thankful for water. Father Bill reminded everyone that the purpose of such an interfaith dialogue should not finish today, but should go on and be translated into action. Imam Najieb agreed that it should be a springboard from which to activate others. His Holiness was asked to offer a conclusion: "We should never harm each other in the name of religion. Why not? Because like it or not we have to live together. The closer the contact we have with each other the greater our admiration and appreciation will be of the qualities of other religions, the source of solace for millions of people. At a conference years ago I met a physicist who told me how much he valued his field of study, but that he'd learned he couldn't let himself become attached to it. I realised then that although I'm a Buddh! ist, I cannot afford to be attached to Buddhism, because that attachment creates bias and an inability to appreciate the goodness in others.
Participants in the interfaith meeting were invited to a luncheon at the President's house, at the end of which His Holiness was again asked for his thoughts. He said: "I'm very glad to have come to this city once more; this morning's session, in the spirit of religious brotherhood, was very good. We need to repeat this in Africa, the Arab world and the Middle East. My brain enjoyed the meeting, my body enjoyed the lunch; thank you." Mayor of Portland, Charlie Hales, in his introduction to the afternoon session, pointed out that whereas other cities have parks within them, Portland, surrounded by mountains, forests and rivers, is a city within a park itself, and an ideal place to talk about the natural environment. However, wanting also to know how to work on the ways we treat one another, he requested His Holiness to speak. "Dear brothers and sisters," His Holiness began, "it's a great honour to speak to you. Although I can see a great variety of faces and dress among you, I always stress the oneness of humanity. "Most of the conflicts between us are our own creation, man-made problems. Well, some are women-made too, but violence tends to be more of a male problem. Our problems are linked to our dwelling on the secondary differences between us. We 7 billion human beings are the same mentally, emotionally and physically. We all want to live a happy life and avoid trouble; and we all have a right to do so. As social animals, our sense of community has a lot to do with this. Today, the global economy with its benefits and drawbac! ks goes far beyond national boundaries or religious divides. Problems like climate change affect us all."
What is required is a sense of secular ethics, which is related to training and disciplining our minds and emotions. We need to develop a map of the mind. Just as we observe physical hygiene to keep ourselves healthy, we also need a sense of emotional hygiene to ensure the health of our minds. His Holiness advised one questioner that change in the world comes from individuals, from the inner peace in individual hearts. Just as ripples spread out when a single pebble is dropped into water, the actions of individuals can have far-reaching effects. Another student asked how we can engage in dialogue with those who do not want to talk and His Holiness argued that if we seek reconciliation with patience and forgiveness other people will change. Regarding the natural environment, many people may still be uninformed and unaware of the issues involved. The solution is education. Yangsi Rinpoche, founder of Maitripa College, the principal organiser of the day's events, concluded the occasion with thanks to His Holiness for coming and with wishes for his long life.  Read More @ Source | ||||||
 The relationship between the mind and the body is a fundamental part of Dharma practice. As Anyen Rinpoche, founder of the Orgyen Khamdroling Dharma Center, explains, reflecting on the mind-body connection through mindfulness and self-discernment can help ground you and reconnect you in your own practice—which we all can use from time to time. Click here to read "Examining the Body-Mind Connection Through Mindful Self-Reflection," an excerpt from his book Momentary Buddhahood. Anyen Rinpoche, along with John Tarrant and Polly Young-Eisendrath, will be leading "Getting Off the Emotional Rollercoaster," a weekend program co-presented by the Shambhala Sun Foundation at Omega Institute this summer. The program will run from July 19 to 21 at Omega's Rhinebeck, NY campus and will explore emotions and how to work with them in everyday life. During the weekend, participants will learn to cultivate a sense of calm and spaciousness, make friends with negative emotions, transform the inner dialogue that accompanies them, and apply helpful Buddhist techniques to deal with them on the spot. For more information, and to register, click here. |
