Notes to a Sangha

Ring the bells that still can ring

Forget your perfect offering

There is a crack in everything

That’s how the light gets in.

Questions for reflection:

• What is perfection and (apparent) imperfection?
• In light of our human nature and foibles, what we can expect of ourselves and each other?
• What is the bell?
• Who rings it?
• What does “still can ring” mean?
• What is the “perfect offering”?
• What is the “crack”?
• What is “everything”?
• What is the “light”?
• What does the light get into?

Below are three perspectives on aging. To help you in your exploration:

• Consider reading the poems aloud.
• As you read them (aloud or to yourself), notice your response.
• Do you feel anything in your body as you read?
• Are you inclined to “rage against the dying of the light?” To “let it come, as it will?” Neither? Both?
• How do you feel about the article The Magic and Mystery of Aging (below, after the poems)? Does it ring true for you? How does it affect your feelings and thoughts about aging?

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, by Dylan Thomas — “Rage, rage against the dying of the light.” Read the full poem at the Poetry Foundation.

Let Evening Come, by Jane Kenyon — “Let it come, as it will, and don’t be afraid.” Read the full poem at the Poetry Foundation.

The Magic and Mystery of Aging, by Douglas Pennick. This is from the Buddhist publication Tricycle.

I’m feeling a little frail today.

About a week ago, I was out with a friend. We were riding our electric bikes on a beautiful autumn day. We went to a local and popular trail with the intention to reach a glorious meadow with a great view.

It started as an easy ride, but a ways into the ride we needed to walk our bikes often. The trail become steep, with lots of ruts and big rocks. Even on our powerful electric bikes we couldn’t handle the uphill climb.

It was pretty challenging. Before we reached the meadow, I told my friend, “I’m getting tired and my left knee hurts. I’m more prone to injury like this. I need to turn back.” My friend readily agreed and we headed back.

As we retraced our route going downhill this time, we of course encountered the extremely rough parts of the trail we had pushed our bikes up earlier. We agreed to get off and walk as needed.

I recall thinking to myself, as I saw my friend ahead of me on his electric bike carefully negotiating a steep, narrow and very challenging part of the trail, “I can get off and walk at any time.”

Instead I chose to keep riding, and this was literally my downfall.

I wasn’t going terribly fast, but I began falling to the right. I tried to catch my balance with my right leg, which folded under me and I landed pretty hard on my right side, with my bike on top of me.

I said “Shit” as I hit. That’s a very popular mantra in such situations!

As I lay on my side I mentally scanned my body. My right ankle, shin, ribs and elbow hurt.

My friend, having heard my cries of pain, came to help me up. It took awhile to figure out how to do that because I was straddling the bike while lying on my right side, with my right leg pinned under the bike. So we had to figure out how to lift up the bike with me on it. We finally disentangled my legs from the bike and my buddy pulled me to my feet.

I was able to get back to the trailhead with my friend close at hand.

Apparently no broken bones from my misadventure, but I’m shaken up, feeling a little vulnerable, a little frail as I said.

That one error of judgment, choosing to ride down the trail when I could have walked, could have killed me or given me a life-changing injury. Fortunately I’m ok, but impacted somehow. I’ve experienced trauma, and my body knows what happened. I feel a little weepy as I listen to my body as I type this.

Our lives are full of such decision points, where we make choices that can impact us for years or decades, choices that we might look back on with regret, choices that we perhaps should have known better than to choose. These choices may not look like a big thing at the time, but they can impact our relationships, livelihood, health, and more.

I want to emphasize that if you are looking back with regret on some of your choices, that you are not alone. As human beings we make mistakes, and sometimes make the same kind of mistake more than once. Taking myself as an example, the story I just told you about my bike crash is the fourth identifiable mistake I’ve made on bikes in the past 18 months or so, and the most serious. Perhaps I should stop riding bikes, but I probably won’t stop.

Sometimes I think Earth is a planet for slow learners. Across the entire vast universe, the slow learners are sent here. That would explain a lot about our choices, society, politics and social priorities.

And I’m on this planet for slow learners for good reason, it seems.

As human beings we are subject to all kinds of difficulties. Poor choices. Repeated poor choices. Hunger. Impatience. Anger. Lust. Despair. Self-medication. Low blood sugar now and then. Illness and stress from all kinds of sources, including a harsh economic system.

No one escapes our human frailty and foibles. Mother Teresa often was depressed. “The Dalai Lama, the spiritual leader known for his promotion of tolerance, patience, and forgiveness, has revealed what makes him angry: careless staff. In an interview with The Times Magazine, the Dalai Lama admitted that “small things” still get to him, but he doesn’t hold on to his anger.” Jim Finley, a respected contemporary Christian mystic, says he has days he can scarcely make it through.

If some of the most advanced and caring human beings of our time have these challenges, it should come as no surprise that we, too, stumble. The same is true for others, of course. So we can be forgiving of others and of ourselves.

It can help not to take ourselves too seriously. After all, we have the bodies of primates. We’ve been called “naked apes.” As my dad observed, “we came down from the trees, and not too long ago!”

Fortunately, that’s not all we are. Through regular practice of meditation and support from others with similar perspective and practices, we can realize that in addition to our vulnerable, animal aspect we also are unborn, undying, and capable of giving and receiving great love.

In this short, humble and humorous video, the Dalai Lama explains our commonality. None of us are special, and we all have the potential to create ourselves anew.

Everyone—even the Dalai Lama, Mother Teresa, you, and me—has challenges and imperfections. Yet there are people who despite their human stumbles change our lives. Here’s a definition of saints by Frederick Buechner:

“A saint is a life-giver […] a human being with the same sorts of hang-ups and abysses as the rest of us”. Yet, “if a saint touches your life”, he concludes, “you become alive in a new way”.

We all have this potential! We don’t have to become perfect in some sense. It suffices to continue to choose to open ourselves to Spirit, to the Stillness, to the Great Mystery, to the Ground of Being, to the Divine.

We needn’t get hung up on the name for this—look within for what these words point to, and do that daily. As we do this, the lives we touch will be positively affected, without our intending to do so and without effort.

I’m following up on the theme of our frailty, foibles, quirky humanity, and the ineffable quality of Spirit awakening in us.

My dear friend Nikki Cuthbertson (photo below) is a modern mystic and spiritual teacher. What do you make of this, which Nikki wrote recently?

A Request for Your Song

Moods float through us like clouds in the sky.

Yet each one was meant to savor.

Each one serves a purpose- a nudge to feel, explore and open to what was meant to celebrate within each breath.

Do not stop breathing with the seriousness of this world.

Find your breath and offer your song to each moment.

Birthing, living , dying all require the song of your Being.

Vibrate and express, if only you express silence and be aware of what you offer in that expression.

For you are a living prayer, a sentient blessing, meant to bless this world with your uniqueness.

The world will bump up on and push on your inner world, whether you like it or not.

Whether you withdraw or not.

Simply look at these moments as a request for your song, your Being to be expressed, if only it is within the container of silence.

Place your intention within it for it is a vortex to create the life you want.

Remember that conflict is a request for your prayer, your song , your blessing.

Your opportunity is to refine that expression beyond the distortions of your wounds.

When you do, you transcend your wounds, make them your gift.

Your wounds were meant to help you find that perfect pitch to your expression.

Not so much by expressing the wound as much as the Light that moves through your internal landscape that includes your wounds.

Much like the way the wind moves through the meadows, the trees and mountains.

You are a living prayer, a living blessing.

Walk with that in your heart today- or better yet, dance.

Nikki and her beloved grandson. You can learn more about Nikki and her teachings, and schedule a private session with her, at www.nikkicuthbertson.com.

Our hearts are an aspect of, a facet of, a gateway to, One Heart. This video guides you through simple movements and perceptions to realize the One Heart.

People are enjoying One Heart Practice, so I’m offering more videos on it. In this video, Doug Matchett, who has a lot of experience with meditation, and I discuss Doug’s use of One Heart Practice, and how he has modified it to his own taste and needs. I offer observations from my own experience. If you haven’t seen the first video, please look above for that.

The One Heart Practice is transformative for some. Here’s the last video in this series, in which Doug Matchett and I practice together, facilitating for one another. You might get some ideas on how you could practice with a friend, or for your own practice. The video is a bit shorter than 15 minutes.

Of course we’re imperfect. Who in their right mind, with any degree of world experience and maturity, would expect otherwise?

Don’t compare your own inner struggles to the apparent outer ease of the lives of others. That’s not fair to you. You don’t know what’s going on inside others.

Don’t get hung up on your past mistakes or shortcomings. That’s not fair to you, to judge your past self by your present development and perspective. Just learn from your past and move on.

Our big opportunity is to make good use of our imperfections, and to resolve to help to mend the world despite and sometime because of and through our wounds and hard-earned wisdom

May we, in being transformed and set free, become someone in whose presence others feel safe, seen, and accepted. For it is in such encounters that this weary world becomes a truly blessed place to be.—James Finley, Ph.D., “The Healing Path”

Some of you might want advanced work and practices. Here’s a Zen perspective from Ed Shozen Haber of the Moon Water Dojo:

Mumonkan Case 46

Proceed On from the Top of the Pole

Sekisõ Oshõ asked, “How can you proceed on further from the top of a hundred-foot pole?”

Another eminent teacher of old said, “You, who sit on the top of a hundred-foot pole, although you have entered the Way you are not yet genuine.

Proceed on from the top of the pole, and you will show your whole body in the ten directions.”

Mumon’s Comment

If you go on further and turn your body about, no place is left where you are not the master.

But even so, tell me, how will you go on further from the top of a hundred-foot pole? Eh?”

Mumon’s Verse

He darkens the third eye of insight

And clings to the first mark on the scale.

Even though he may sacrifice his life,

He is only a blind man leading the blind.

Top of a 100 foot pole, are you there? Sometimes I think this Zen practice is not only like climbing to the top of a 100’ pole but the pole is also greased and I keep sliding backwards. I have been playing a lot of music these days now that I have retired from regular work. I have been practicing one song quite a bit and the other day during my evening sit I could not get that tune out of my head for the whole hour. It’s ok but I have worked all these years on training this (my) mind to be quiet. And then my wife is adept at showing me where I am still attached.

If you get to the top of the pole and truly quiet your mind then just sit there for a while, relax, look around, the path on is clear. Your whole body fills the ten directions. Do you see that? All that work for such a simple insight but still it is a revolution.

The last of the Ox Herding Pictures shows a joyous Bodhisattva giving out gifts to children. All your years of hard work are not for your ego bound small self. That self is just an illusion and by now you know that. The outcome of all the hard work is that now you partake in the activity of the Universal Bodhisattva which is really your true self.

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John Tarrant Roshi of the Pacific Zen Institute in Santa Rosa, California, talks about the “100 foot pole” is his wonderful book Bring Me the Rhinoceros.

Do you want to participate in the activity of the Universal Boddhisattva? Love in Action is a good guide.

(Image: Guanyin checking out at the grocery store)

I’m a wounded healer. Are you?

We might wonder what it means to “heal.” I still carry the pain of my wounds, but much of the time I’m ok and function well. For me the pain is part of my connection to wounded humanity.

The wounded healer archetype is a powerful one that has been explored in many different cultures and traditions. It is the story of someone who has been through a lot of pain and suffering, but who has emerged from that experience with a newfound wisdom and compassion. These individuals use their own experiences to help others heal, and they often become powerful teachers and healers.

There are many examples of wounded healers throughout history. In Greek mythology, for example, we have the story of Chiron, a centaur who was wounded by an arrow dipped in the blood of the Hydra. Chiron’s wound was incurable, but he used his pain to become a great healer and teacher. He taught many of the greatest heroes of Greek mythology, including Achilles and Hercules.

In Judaism, there are many examples of wounded healers. One of the most famous is Rabbi Tzaddok, who lived in the 2nd century CE. Rabbi Tzaddok was a great teacher and healer, but he was also a man who had experienced great pain and suffering. He had lost his wife and children, and he had been exiled from his home. But through it all, Rabbi Tzaddok never gave up hope. He continued to teach and to heal, and he became a source of inspiration for many people.

Another example of a wounded healer in Judaism is Reb Nachman of Breslov. Reb Nachman was a Hasidic rabbi who lived in the 18th century. Reb Nachman was a brilliant scholar and a gifted storyteller, but he also suffered from a debilitating illness. Despite his illness, Reb Nachman continued to teach and to heal.

In the Christian tradition, we have the story of Jesus. Jesus knew great pain and suffering. He was betrayed by his friends, and crucified by the Romans. But through it all, he continued to love and forgive, even those who had hurt him.

In Mahayana Buddhism, the bodhisattva Guanyin (aka Kuan Yin) is often seen as a wounded healer. In some stories, she is said to have been born with a wound on her foot, which caused her great pain. However, she eventually learned to use her wound as a source of compassion and understanding for others who were suffering. She is now known for her ability to heal the physical and emotional wounds of those who come to her for help.

The wounded healer archetype is not just a myth or a story. It is a real and powerful force in the world. There are many people who have been through great pain and suffering, but who have emerged from that experience with a newfound wisdom and compassion. These individuals use their own experiences to help others heal, and they often become powerful teachers and healers.

If you are feeling wounded, know that you are not alone. There are many who have walked this path before you. There are others who can help you heal. And there are others who need your help.

If you are called to be a wounded healer, there are many things you can do to use your wounds to help others. Here are a few suggestions:

• Listen. When you listen to others with an open heart, you let them know that you care. You also help them to feel understood and validated. Often, this suffices.
• Share your story. Once you get to know someone, at the right time and place, it might be helpful to share your story with others. When you share your story, you let others know that they are not alone. You also show them that it is possible to heal from pain and trauma.
• Offer hope and healing. When you share your own stories of hope and healing, you give others the courage to keep going. You also show them that it is possible to find peace and joy, even in the midst of pain.

By using your wounds in these ways, you can make a real difference in the world. You can help to create a more compassionate and loving world, one person at a time. Your ability to relate and listen to others who have suffered might be improved because of your wounds..

You don’t have to do anything outside the scope of your day to day life to be a wounded healer. However, you might also be moved to volunteer to help others, or even to find work aligned with your own challenges.

• If you have suffered grief through the loss of loved ones, you might volunteer for hospice
• If you have been through abuse, you might become a counselor or advocate for victims of abuse.
• If you have been through addiction, you might become a counselor or mentor for people struggling with addiction.
• If you have been through a mental health crisis, you might become a peer support specialist or advocate for people with mental health challenges.
• If you have been through a physical illness, you might become a patient advocate or volunteer for a health-related organization.

The stories of the wounded healers provide powerful examples of how our own pain and suffering can be used to help others. They remind us that we are all connected, and that we all have the potential to heal and to be healed.

No matter what your wound is, you can use it to help others. You can use your story to connect with others who are hurting. You can offer them compassion and empathy. And you can offer them hope and healing.

When you use your wounds in this way, you become a wounded healer. You become a source of light in the darkness, a beacon of hope in the midst of despair. You become a force for good in the world.

So if you are feeling wounded, don’t give up. You can choose to make your wounds a blessing for others. You can choose to become a wounded healer.

(If you are on this path, or called to it, you might enjoy Becoming Kuan Yin, one of my favorite books.)

Now and then people refer to me as a “life coach.” That’s a small subset of what I’m offering.

O Sensei, founder of Aikido, said that human beings are very important in the Cosmos because we are where heaven and earth can come together. We have the opportunity to express in the world as the sweet lingering kiss of heaven and earth.

Professor Jacob Needleman put it this way: We are free to be – and are obliged to strive to become – beings through whom and in whom the highest energies of consciousness and eternity blend into a unity in relationship to all the forces of earth and passing time.

We don’t do this just for ourselves. It’s part of the great mending of the world, tikkun olam.

This development is supported by practices like meditation, sharing of energies, and opening to each other and to Reality in our sangha.

Along the way we have plenty of opportunities to love and support others in this weary world, to practice love in action.

“May we, in being transformed and set free, become someone in whose presence others feel safe, seen, and accepted. For it is in such encounters that this weary world becomes a truly blessed place to be.” —James Finley, Ph.D., “The Healing Path”

I’m a midwife and a participant in this process.

The following is by Vic Cocowitch, member of our sangha. Vic and John have been in process for about 10 years.

My Story

Most of my life has been spent making lists of things to do and rushing to get them done. It has been a very tiring existence, always thinking ahead, and being worried and anxious about it.

I believed that if I could get it all done, and everything checked off the list, then I could find spaciousness and some sense of serenity. I also did not pay attention to how my body was feeling and what it was telling me. I felt uncomfortable with just being present without a task or new idea to drive me forward.

It has been helpful to move away from my very busy and all-consuming consulting practice 5 years ago, and to also have an empty nest, as both children are now living elsewhere, but my lifelong pattern of “busyness” remained.

Covid rubbed my face in the pattern, and I worked hard to shift it. It was helpful to finally commit to a daily practice several years ago and begin to slow down the engine of task completion. I am an active person with lots of ideas, but I did not want them to run my life.

As result I am learning to slow things down and to stop feeling urgent, and I have become a more present person when I am with others, listening more fully and with more compassion. Today I am feeling more centered and peaceful and starting to learn to take on what is in front of me with interest and curiosity, rather than treating the task as another thing to rush through, so I can get to the next activity.

The past 3 weeks, Dawn and I have been focused on her health and healing post cancer surgery. It has been a gift to us, as we have both slowed things down and find ourselves sitting in the garden observing and meditating on the butterfly’s and bees and listening to the birds waking up each morning. Both of us feel more aware of what is in our natural world and have found a great deal of joy in it.

I read this the poem, Shoveling Snow with the Buddha by Billy Collins the other day and it reminded me of the work I was doing to be present and enjoy my activities, with less urgency, and more intention and enjoyment.

I look forward to exploring the idea of presence and awareness in your everyday tasks and lives.

Vic

Shoveling Snow With Buddha – Billy Collins

In the usual iconography of the temple or the local Wok

you would never see him doing such a thing,

tossing the dry snow over a mountain

of his bare, round shoulder,

his hair tied in a knot,

a model of concentration.

Sitting is more his speed, if that is the word

for what he does, or does not do.

Even the season is wrong for him.

In all his manifestations, is it not warm or slightly humid?

Is this not implied by his serene expression,

that smile so wide it wraps itself around the waist of the universe?

But here we are, working our way down the driveway,

one shovelful at a time.

We toss the light powder into the clear air.

We feel the cold mist on our faces.

And with every heave we disappear

and become lost to each other

in these sudden clouds of our own making,

these fountain-bursts of snow.

This is so much better than a sermon in church,

I say out loud, but Buddha keeps on shoveling.

This is the true religion, the religion of snow,

and sunlight and winter geese barking in the sky,

I say, but he is too busy to hear me.

He has thrown himself into shoveling snow

as if it were the purpose of existence,

as if the sign of a perfect life were a clear driveway

you could back the car down easily

and drive off into the vanities of the world

with a broken heater fan and a song on the radio.

All morning long we work side by side,

me with my commentary

and he inside his generous pocket of silence,

until the hour is nearly noon

and the snow is piled high all around us;

then, I hear him speak.

After this, he asks,

can we go inside and play cards?

Certainly, I reply, and I will heat some milk

and bring cups of hot chocolate to the table

while you shuffle the deck.

and our boots stand dripping by the door.

Aaah, says the Buddha, lifting his eyes

and leaning for a moment on his shovel

before he drives the thin blade again

deep into the glittering white snow.

The photo is of the great sage Ramana Maharshi. You might enjoy looking into his eyes and communing with him.

He was dying of cancer and in the past had shown power to heal others, and his devotees were now begging him to heal himself. He kept refusing, and they cried, Don’t leave us, don’t leave us, to which he replied, Don’t be silly. Where could I go? (quoted from A Pure & Perfect Love)

Death can come at any minute, in any way. We do not know what is in store tomorrow, or, whether there is a tomorrow, or even a tonight! But still, we have the golden present. Now we are alive and kicking. What should we do now? Love all, serve all.

–Sri Swami Satchadananda

One of our members mentioned recently that they felt they were becoming who they were meant to be. That’s the work of a lifetime.

One perspective is that the purpose of your life is to become fully yourself, to fully blossom, to become who you were meant to be. This fully-realized state is called your entelechy, which also means the vital force that helps us flower from within to our full development. This includes our inner, spiritual development as well as our external expression.

To provide some examples, we could say that the entelechy of a rosebud is a rose in full bloom, the entelechy of a caterpillar is a butterfly, and the entelechy of an acorn is an oak tree spreading wide its magnificent branches and leaves.

How does this apply to people? A person in full blossom has found her or his higher purpose and expression, has usually gotten support in developing that, and is living it out in their activities and in the world. This greatly benefits the person because it is supremely satisfying, and it benefits others because of the beauty, wonder and contributions of those who are in full bloom.

This flourishing can be easy to observe in athletes and performing artists. Through their training, effort and enjoyment of their work, they often make miraculous levels of performance look easy and natural. Some examples include gymnast Simone Biles, basketball player Stephen Curry, and jazz singer Cécile McLorin Salvant.

Many who are in full bloom have little fame or recognition, such as wonderful teachers, healers or parents. We all have the opportunity to grow into our entelechy. What will support your entelechy, and your full development?

In brief, it is good to feed yourself in body, mind and spirit. This includes:

● taking care of your physical needs (sleep, food, exercise)

● engaging in practices like meditation to honor your spirit

● consuming media that uplifts and inspires you rather than bringing you down

● spending time with caring and supportive companions (entelechy flourishes in relationship)

● and very importantly doing things that you find meaningful and that are your natural, healthy and enjoyable expression.

Conversely, your entelechy is undermined when your being is not fed (see above), and when you are unreasonably constricted. Constricting influences include:

● Physical and emotional injuries (some in childhood) that haven’t been supported in healing

● Relationships in which you are consistently put down or disrespected

● Getting stuck in things that don’t matter, trivial meaningless things

● Being trapped in situations (work, relationships) that unreasonably limit you and don’t give you the opportunity to grow and express the depth and beauty of your being.

These areas of constriction need to be addressed, sometimes with help from others. For example, therapy can help us deal with old wounds, friends can give us perspective on relationships and work situations, and wise guides can help to catalyze the next steps of our unfolding.

Kindly reflect on how you are fed in body, mind and spirit. Is anything missing? Too, what unreasonably constricts your growth?

In subsequent weeks we’ll explore other aspects of your entelechy and how to support your full development.

We’re going to put the entelechy exploration on hold a bit, while we continue exploring our practice regarding suffering. Note in the meantime that entelechy doesn’t exclude suffering.

Last Monday, many of us gathered on Zoom to open ourselves to the suffering in the world, particularly that in the Middle East and Ukraine, with the intention of supporting those directly affected. Members of our group expressed feelings of anger and hopelessness, and big challenges in practicing tonglen (“taking and giving”) because of the extreme brutality and horror.

How can we face this? Should we even attempt to receive this? Are we damaged by such practice?

The answers to these questions will differ depending on who is reflecting on them. Some people with histories of abuse and trauma will want to be very careful in opening themselves to the suffering of the world. I feel that doing this in our group is unlikely to cause irreparable damage, but also that careful, gradual engagement may allow one to open more fruitfully.

I myself experience great pain in the practice, as you may have noticed when I cried out on Monday. It was like getting stabbed or electrocuted. I have learned through experience that I reintegrate from that quickly, and suffer no long-term ill effects. My 40+ years of practice plus a knack for this kind of work serve me well in this regard.

As I’ve mentioned, I feel that we help to “metabolize” the individual and collective suffering when we practice like this, although one member of our group wondered if it really helps. Whatever the benefit to those whose suffering we receive, we ourselves benefit because we partake of healing when we accept the suffering of the world instead of turning from it, and choose to be the vehicles for healing others.

When it is just too much in this practice for us as our “smaller selves” (even larger versions of our smaller selves) and we overload, this opens the door for what we call the Divine, Spirit, One Heart, Love, and so on to enter into and even take over the practice.

You may have noticed that after we went through a couple of cycles of One Heart practice on Monday, One Heart took over and claimed our individual hearts, overtly blessed and loved us in the group as well as those with whom we were in solidarity, and went on to offer Love to the perpetrators of the horror. This extravagant Love is part of the nature of One Heart.

Continued daily practice, and immersion in our supportive sangha, gives us the strength and courage to open ourselves to the horrible suffering of the world, and to be supported and healed ourselves in the practice by One Heart, by Love.

So I encourage you to be prudent in your opening to suffering, and to open if you feel it’s right for you, inviting One Heart (or Spirit by whatever name you like) to express in you, through you, and as you throughout the process. This is a heroic path, and rewards us with substantial growth including healing for ourselves.

Nikki and friend

I had the profound realization that I became a healer because it was what was needed to both survive and conform into my younger self’s life.

As I reclaim myself as an artist, dancer, athlete, gardener and horsewoman, I take back my power to create the life I was meant to live and have that include myself above all.

I spent too many years sacrificing myself and believing I needed to do that in order to be loved.

Now I create in love and allow it to move and inspire my body movements , voice, creations and relationships.

Life has been so very challenging for the better part of this year but I am more grounded in who I was meant to be than ever before.

Life is still challenging but I’m very in touch with both my ground of being and the divine realms.

My hope was that I could through my body, bridge heaven here on earth and it is what I am living in the here and now.

I thought, why wait until I’m dead?

xoxo

Nikki

Here are questions I often ask people whom I am supporting in their entelechy development:

● What gives you a sense of meaning or purpose?

● What are you pretty good at? Are you willing to practice to get better at it?

● What kinds of things do you enjoy so much that you would do them for free?

● What gives you joy?

● What is it that you can’t not do, that you love doing, and that doesn’t hurt others?

● What makes you feel most alive?

● Is there anything in your life that is hindering you, that you need to change or let go of?

● Suppose you have a long and fruitful life, in which all of your gifts flourish. What would you like to be remembered for?

● For what do you think you came to this life? Do you have any unfinished work?

● What things in the world, things that you might be able to do something about, break your heart?

● What is calling you?

● Will you answer?

● What do you want?

After you’ve read these questions, please go back and read them again slowly, and notice if any of them stir you, What answers arise as you reflect on these questions?

[This]… is the struggle to have a faith that isn’t an evacuation plan or an escape into private bliss, but a way of seeking to have a spiritual transformation in our own lives that will express itself in change and transformation in our world. We’re on a quest to find out how to have an engaged expression of deep spiritual life that makes a difference in a world on fire.

Brian McLaren

Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.

Howard Thurman

The “engaged expression of deep spiritual life that makes a difference in a world on fire” is Love in Action. Going and doing what makes you come alive is your natural healthy expression, living your entelechy in the world.

● What makes you come alive?

● What is calling you?

● Will you answer?

● What do you want?

What we call “enlightenment,” “entering into the Kingdom of Heaven,” and “awakening” is an aspect of our full entelechy, as is our growing capacity to perceive and act in the subtle realms. This level of development often is served by long-term, dedicated spiritual practice under the direction of skilled teachers.

Growing into our entelechy often is the work of a lifetime, requiring us to say no to some things and yes to others. It can disrupt life as we know it, like the chrysalis of a caterpillar is ruptured with the emergence of the butterfly within. Entelechy can take a lot of effort, yet when that work is fueled by passion it’s not a burden but rather an invigorating adventure. More and more, Spirit wakes and lives in us, through us, and as us.

For the next several weeks we’ll be reviewing my book “Shortcuts to Meditation” and looking more closely at “Reflections on Awakening” which I provided recently. My intention is twofold: first, to encourage you to look anew at the practices we’ve shared over the years to recommit to your own practice of meditation and second, to help you to assimilate, to metabolize, the awakening perspective so that can provide guidance and context for your own process.

from Shortcuts to Meditation

People often feel frustrated with meditation and feel they just can’t do it. This frequently is because they misunderstand the nature of meditation.

There are many views on the nature of meditation. Here’s my perspective.

Meditation ISN’T:

• Making your mind be absolutely still
• Shutting up the chatterbox in your head
• Repressing your thoughts and feelings

Meditation IS:

• Learning to choose where your attention goes
• Choosing again and again and again to direct your attention where you want it to go
• The eventual, effortless cessation of choosing, which leaves simple clarity (that part of your mind that plans, recalls and chooses becomes inactive for awhile)

Pay attention to the impact of your meditation practice in your life. Even if it seems like you’re not meditating well, you probably will notice more calmness and resilience in your day to day life.

Dissatisfaction with the quality of your meditation is a bit like the feelings you get while working out with your physical body–you might be breathing hard or struggle.

These feelings happen because you are challenging yourself, and are not bad signs. In fact, you are building your strength and endurance, both with physical exercise and meditation practice.

Assess the quality of your meditation practice not by how you feel during the practice, but by how it affects your life.

__

Now, please look once again at the following, perhaps reading the language aloud. This is about you and your process.

Are you practicing meditation daily? Here are a few words of caution.

Meditation works fine for most people most of the time, but a few words of caution are in order.

Transformation

Meditation can provide peace of mind, strength, and other desirable qualities. However, it also is transformative, and the process of transformation can be uncomfortable and potentially disruptive to life as you’ve known it. For example, it’s not uncommon for people who have a dedicated meditation practice to find that their former relationships and employment no longer fit them well. Changes in these areas often are needed.

Mind-altering Substances

I suggest you be very careful about using mind-altering substances in conjunction with your meditation. Personally, I wouldn’t do it. Some find these substances to be a useful tool, so I’m not suggesting a blanket prohibition on their use. However, some psychedelics can be disorienting even without adding them to meditation, and their use with meditation could be problematic.

Other substances like alcohol or cannabis, even in small amounts, can negatively affect your meditation. If you use these substances and would like to meditate, I suggest you experiment for a week or more not using them. See what your meditation is like without the substances, then gradually reintroduce them and see what the effect is for you. Then decide what is best for you.

Taking the Lid Off

Sometimes people feel distress associated with meditation. This can happen for several reasons. Old trauma and emotions can arise, sometimes in disturbing detail. There can be overwhelming feelings of anger, hunger or lust, to name a few examples. Often this distress will pass if one perseveres in the practice.

What to Do

If you experience too much discomfort in your meditation practice, or afterwards, here are some options:

• contact me or another experienced meditation teacher
• reduce the amount of time you are practicing, or cease it completely
• frequently get grounded in your physical body by taking a cold shower, walking vigorously or working out
• connect with trusted loved ones and pets
• work with a therapist.

Now, please review this excerpt from Reflections on Awakening:

Here is a summary of the techniques I often share, from Chris Faison, a friend and student who has been using them for some time. Chris says:

The Bow:

The bow embodies humility and deference to powers much greater than what we normally think of as our ‘self’. Regular practice has the effect of taking tremendous responsibility off of our shoulders, while at the same time allowing us to access a deep well of innate strength, calm, and wisdom. Notice the effect it has for you, both during practice and throughout the rest of the day.

Gestures of Release:

Gestures of release allow us to let go of attachments and feelings that don’t serve others or us. Some of these attachments can be deeply rooted. Gestures can help to uproot them powerfully, yet gently so that we don’t feel that we are fighting a battle. As you practice regularly, you may notice unhealthy and distracting attachments that you didn’t even realize were there. They are uncovered as surface level feelings are managed. In this way, gestures of release can help reveal and manage our feelings in ways that helps serve others and us more and more over time.

Sighing Exhalation:

The sighing exhalation gives a strong and immediate signal to your system to relax. Notice how it changes how you feel and think. Each exhalation is like a wave gently lapping the shore. Instead of wishing you were at the beach, you can bring the feeling of relaxing by the seashore to yourself, on command! When we are relaxed, we reduce the negative effects of stress, make better decisions, and see the world and others for what they are more clearly.

Resting in Stillness:

Resting in stillness allows us to assimilate the benefits of our other practices, and to access more deeply who we really are. This is something that no one else can do for us. Resting in stillness allows us to have our own direct experience – to experience the peace that is you - versus relying on peace from external sources.

Namaste:

Practicing namaste helps us to see and feel the connectedness and unity among ourselves, others, and all that is. As we bring our hands together in namaste, we help to foster unification and harmony. The boundary of what we feel as ourselves and everything else begins to blur. In this way, we can experience ourselves in and as an expanding field of people, things, and events. The boundary itself can dissolve completely, opening us to the vastness of who we really are.

All of the Shortcuts:

These simple but powerful shortcuts, when practiced regularly, can change how we are in the world and what we see in it. In this way, the shortcuts can change the world we live in. Not only will you manage your own thoughts, feelings, and habits better and better over time, but you will be able to see what might serve others more clearly as well. With your developing discernment, you can expand the benefits of your practice to others, and to the world. In our human experience, there is no greater gift than this.

Now, please review this excerpt from Reflections on Awakening:

We’re continuing our revist of meditation in the light of awakening. I’m drawing on my book Shortcuts to Meditation for the excerpts. If you’re not already using the bow, please incorporate it into your daily practice until our next class. Use the “reflections” to help assess the impact.

The first shortcut to meditation is the bow. Variations on the bow can be found in Hatha Yoga, Kriya Yoga, Judaism and Islam. It brings immediate calmness.

The essence of the bow, which can be done from a seated position or while kneeling, is slowly bringing the head down to the level of the knees. This has several benefits.

First, the bow brings blood into the forebrain. Second, it automatically helps you to empty your lungs prior to refilling them as you come back up. Third, the bow stretches the spinal column and loosens the back. It’s a useful physiological shortcut to find peace.

I’ll describe the bow done while sitting in a chair. The same principles apply if done seated on the floor or kneeling on the floor.

Close your eyes (optional—I recommend eyes closed, but some prefer to keep them open).

Start with your spine comfortably erect, but not ramrod straight. Be comfortable.

Notice the tip of your tailbone—mentally feel that area.

Exhale, without trying to empty your lungs.

Inhale, and as you inhale, pull your attention from the tip of your tailbone up your back to the top of your head.

Now bring your chin toward your chest and let gravity do the work of bringing your head toward the floor. You can consciously and gradually surrender to the pull of gravity, and just relax into the bow, bringing your head down toward the floor (bowing). Do not, I repeat, do not do this quickly or to the point of pain.

Move your head down toward the floor slowly, letting your movement and the pressure of your knees against your belly gently support your exhalation. Stop at the point of mild comfortable stretching, with your exhalation comfortably complete.

Breath normally, enjoying the stretch for as long as you want.

Slowly and comfortably bring your head back to the starting position, with your spine erect.

When you are back to the starting position, rest there and notice the change in your consciousness and peace of mind.

You can do as many bows as you want, but note that more aren’t necessarily better. Sometimes if your mind is agitated you need several of them to quiet your mind. Don’t do them quickly, though.

Do one bow, notice how it feels, abide in the restful peace when your head is down, and also when your head is back up. If you notice agitation or mind chatter, you can do another bow.

If you’re at work, and want to sneak in a bow, you can just drop your pen to the floor, and bow forward to find it, taking your time, and come back up with your clutched triumphantly. No one’s the wiser that you’ve taken a shortcut to meditation. And who says you can’t meditate a bit at your desk at work?

I love the stretch of the back and neck that the bow provides, and the calm peace I feel once my head is down and when I return to the starting position.

I want to remind you that at no time should you strain while doing this. Go slow and be gentle with yourself. Let your body surrender to gravity so your bow isn’t so much an act of effort as it is letting go.

Reflections

• What time of day are you practicing?

• What change in your consciousness do you notice after you do the bow? For instance, do you feel calmer?

• What is it like for you if you rest comfortably in the bowed position, as far forward as is comfortable?

• Do you notice a comfortable stretch in your back and neck when you do the bow? Do you take the stretch to the point of pain? Please don’t do that, it’s not needed. A little at a time your spine will get more flexible.

• Have you tried the bow during the day, such as while in a chair at work?

• For about how much time each day are you practicing?

Now kindly review and internalize this excerpt from Reflections on Awakening:

We’re continuing our revist of meditation in the light of awakening. I’m drawing on my book Shortcuts to Meditation for the excerpts. If you’re not already using gestures of release, please incorporate these into your daily practice until our next class. Use the “reflections” to help assess the impact.

Meditation is easier if we are relaxed. Sometimes in meditation distracting feelings come up that we don’t know what to do with. Gestures of release are a shortcut to meditation because they can give us immediate relaxation and freedom from distracting feelings.

Gestures are movements of the body. We can use gestures to bring a feeling into our awareness, to acknowledge it, and then loosen the hold the feeling has on us.

For example, simply opening your hand can give you a feeling of openness and relaxation in your body. You can try it now. Just clench your hand for about 10 seconds, notice how that feels in your hand and in your body, then gently open your hand and notice the feeling in your hand and body as you do so. What did you notice?

The clenched hand (like when you make a fist) can help bring into your awareness feelings of constriction such as anger or fear. You can try it now. Think of a time you were angry and what that was about and make a fist, clench your hand, with the anger. Notice the anger wherever you may feel it in your body.

Once we’re aware of the feeling, in this case anger, we can then let it go. To do this, slowly unclench your hand so that instead of it being a fist it’s an open hand with palm up. Notice the feeling of release as you let the anger dissipate by unclenching your fist. Notice whatever you may feel in your body.

It’s helpful to do this because we may tend to push away feelings like anger, perhaps feeling that we shouldn’t be angry. Part of what we’re doing here is giving the feeling of anger some room in our body and a place in our awareness. We give the feeling its due, then let it go.

The clenched hand can represent any feeling that cuts you off, constricts or has you feeling uptight. You can experiment and see what works for you with old memories that may haunt you and the present feelings that come with them, and with resentment, fear, anger, lust—anything you’d like to let go of.

We’re used to letting go of things with our hands by opening the hand and dropping them, and gestures of release takes advantage of this habitual experience.

Noticing is very important in this practice:

notice the feeling that you’d like to let go of.

let the feeling clench your hand or even your entire body.

notice how the feeling shows up in your hand and body.

notice what you feel in your hand as you gradually open your hand or unclench your body.

notice what you feel in your body as you let go.

You can experiment with other gestures that represent the feeling you’d like to release. For instance, you can cross your arms over your chest to embody feelings of being closed off or alienated, and gradually spread your arms to release such feelings.

Remember that you can clench your whole body rather than just your hand, and gradually release the feeling by unclenching your body slowly.

It can help to clench or tighten so much that you simply cannot clench further, and hold it to the point of trembling. This shows us in our body how tiring it can be to hold onto a feeling, and the release from letting go can be a great relief.

Sometimes it can be hard to let go once we’ve clenched for awhile. For instance, if you let a feeling clench your fist as tight as you can and hold it to the point of trembling, you may have difficulty opening your hand even though you’re somewhat exhausted from the clenching. You can use your other hand to gently unfold the clenched hand, always noticing the feelings in your hand and body.

You can use gestures of release before you meditate. You might first do a bow (see prior shortcut), then just clench and unclench a few times, with awareness of a particular feeling you’d like to let go of, or without reference to a particular feeling. Then during your meditation, if distracting thoughts or feelings come up (as they usually do) you can use gestures of release to let them go so you can return to the clarity and peace of your meditation.

You can use gestures of release in social situations, too. Just open your hand(s) or spread your arms in a natural way as part of your expression. In this way you can let go of social anxiety or fear of speaking, and other feelings you might prefer not affect your relationships. Be careful though about visibly clenching your hands—people may misunderstand your intentions!

The essence of gestures of release is embodying a feeling, noticing it in the body, and using the body to let go of it while noticing the release in the body. You feel calm in the wake of departing feeling, and can meditate more easily.

Reflections

• Where in your body do you notice the effect of gestures of release? Your back? Your belly? Your face? Someplace else?

• Are you doing the bow as well as gestures of release in your practice?

• Different gestures of release have different effects. Is there one or more that you particularly like?

• What time of day are you doing your first practice session?

• Have you considered doing two sessions in a day?

Now kindly review and internalize this excerpt from Reflections on Awakening:

Dennis Smith, our friend and member of our sangha, passed away on April 21, 2024.

Our hearts are with him, Billie, Cass, and all who loved him. We will do One Heart practice to support his transition at our next gathering. In the meantime, please continue your loving support.

Death can be very difficult to encounter. About 10 years ago, I made a podcast titled “Death As Graduation.” You might find this helpful. You’ll find a link to the audio below, as well as the transcript.

Audio link.

Transcript

Gustavo Brett:

Welcome to the Molten Golden Teachings with John Records, where heaven, sky, and spirit kiss the earth and support the ground of human experience and awakening.

John Records:

Colin Dunbar, a dear friend with whom I’ve meditated regularly, recently died suddenly and unexpectedly.

This is dedicated to Colin.

What is death?

At its simplest, death is when the physical body stops working permanently.

Does anything or anyone survive the death of the body?

Yes, it does.

Many people, myself included, have had the experience of contacting connection with someone whose body has died.

For example, my friend Colin contacted me and spent about a day with me after his physical death.

He asked permission to stay for a while and gave me a sweet and loving thank you when he was ready to go.

Several other people reported a similar post-mortem loving connection with Colin.

I’ve had this kind of contact with a number of dead people.

I don’t seek this out, but I’m open to the visits.

So why does someone die at a particular time?

In Colin’s case, I feel that he graduated.

Because of our close spiritual connection, I knew about his big life issues, and I was delighted to see how he intentionally and consciously worked to refine his awareness and to let go of habits of feeling and thinking that didn’t serve him well.

In the past year or so, Colin learned that he was worthy of love without having to earn that, and how to express his true self without fear, and how to stand on his own.

These were major aspects of his life work, which he accomplished magnificently and triumphantly.

Shortly before his death, he told many people that he was very, very happy.

Colin had, I think, finished his life work and was ready to take his next steps.

We who remain in our bodies, for a while anyway, can help those who have made this transition into the next stages of their growth.

Some feel that funerals are just for those who survive.

In fact, the spirit of the deceased often is present, and the funeral can help the spirit, as well as the survivors, to find closure in the stage of life just completed.

In the Tibetan Book of Living and Dying by Sogyal Rinpoche, we have one compilation of wisdom on how we can both prepare ourselves for our inevitable physical demise and help others in their journey.

That’s a book worth reading.

What about grief?

Grief is okay.

It’s natural.

It’s appropriate.

Even enlightened beings grieve the loss of their loved ones.

Paramahansa Prajnananda, for instance, wept for days after the death of his beloved guru, Paramahansa Hariharananda.

Even though we know and experience that the spirit or the soul, survives, we well may long for and miss the daily physical presence of the deceased person.

For example, in his physical form, Colin was a world-class champion hugger.

We who survive in the flesh will miss his hugs, his smile, his generosity, and his humor, even though we know that he still lives.

Our natural response is to be sad at our loss.

We can prepare for our own graduation from this life by practicing meditation daily, and we can support those who have graduated by thinking of them with love, wishing them well, and in due course releasing them to move on.

We can keep in mind that there’s more to us and to our lives than meets the eye.

Gustavo Brett

Death as graduation.

What to say in regards to listening to that?

I recently lost my beloved dog and this journey between accepting and or opening to what’s beyond her passing and this profound longing and grieving for her physical existence.

I have found that to be the single most transformative experience of my life thus far.

A lot of it is just a matter of time before I can say, “I’m not going to be able to live without her.”

I’ve been through a lot of things building up to it, a tremendous amount building up to it, but as far as a singular event, that’s been my biggest enlightenment, I’d have to say, to life and death.

And I guess just to say, you know, first of all, as a graduation, we spend so much time, it seems as though most of us, thinking of death as a horrible thing.

And I wonder if one of those reasons for thinking of death as such a terrible thing is simply the difficulty of that longing for the physical life and love that we had with those souls.

Do you think it’s possible that’s one of the reasons we dread this transition so profoundly?

Or at least my view is that we, at least as Americans, dread death, physical death.

Death.

It may not be true, but if it is true, could that be one of the reasons of how much we just miss and long and grieve for the physical life to still be there?

John Records

I think so.

As mentioned in the reading earlier, even very highly developed enlightened beings grieve the loss.

When your dear dog, Sydney, whom I loved in my own way, died physically, she left a big hole in your life.

And even if she may still be connected with you spiritually, your physical day-to-day life has changed profoundly, in some ways for the better.

But I know that you would gladly give up those few benefits to have her with you again.

I’ve observed that for humans, and maybe even with our animal companions, that prolonged suffering makes it easier for us to let go.

I think from the perspective both of the person dying and the loved ones, that at some point the feeling may be, okay, done now.

Let’s finish this off.

You know, there’s been enough pain, enough suffering.

I kind of doubt that animals feel that way, but people seem to.

Gustavo Brett

I think that’s a good point.

Their animal suffering may well feel that, in my view.

John Records

I have an old friend who has worked in the hospice movement for some time, and he said once, why would we mourn the transformation of a caterpillar into a butterfly?

Thing is that we’re used to the caterpillar.

We live the lives of the caterpillars, and I don’t think that we’re really built most of the time.

Gustavo Brett

I think that’s a good point.

John Records

There is the horrible loss, and there is this sense we have that it’s still not the end.

I’m wondering for you, Gustavo, have you felt connection with Sydney after her physical passing?

Gustavo Brett

I don’t know how to answer that question.

I am so different that it’s hard to say if I feel her.

It’s hard to say.

I mean, I feel her because I am with her a lot, mentally, you know.

I walk with her.

I talk out loud.

I have an altar that’s been changing over the months before, during, and after her death.

I had a discussion with her about leaving this property that I live on eventually, that we’re going to walk it again for probably a couple more months together, and I could feel that earth energy, and I don’t say that lightly, but I could literally feel how the earth is soaking that up, and it’s a lot of work.

It’s a walk we’ve taken thousands of times together, at least over a thousand, maybe not thousands, but years and years of this same walk, and I feel, I guess what I feel with her, how I feel her is in my integration of grief.

I feel the physical death because I literally felt like I physically died when she died.

I felt like a piece of me actually died.

I felt like I was some kind of chunk, and I always do this with my hands, which is I put it right on my lower left solar plexus when I say that every single time, unconsciously, and now I feel this integration of grief and enlightenment, and that term is used incorrectly, I think, or overused, but enlightened, meaning lighter, less egocentric, more spacious, and more open, and I feel that I’m not alone.

I feel that I’m not alone.

She’s with me, generally speaking, in my psyche, in my soul, and the way I weep for her on a regular basis after basically spending 40 years of my life not crying.

I cry a lot now on a regular basis.

It doesn’t take much.

And I cry for myself and others now, whereas they just couldn’t come before.

So maybe that’s how I feel her.

John Records

There’s a lot to respond to in what you said.

Let me suggest that with her physical death, you really did lose a piece of yourself.

You know, we could talk about that kind of thing symbolically, but it seems to me that with our loved ones, human and animal, that what we might think of as the boundaries between the two beings is blurred and maybe even erased.

So my thought here is that with Sidney, there was, in a way, you and Sidney are one soul with two bodies.

And when one of the bodies dies and part of that one soul goes on to its next steps, there is that loss of self.

This is in addition to how our daily lives change when someone moves on.

And maybe the process you’re describing as enlightenment has to do with the reintegration of yourself in this new configuration after part of yourself has moved on.

I think, too, as you were talking about your ability to cry and how you had not for 40 years and are now crying for yourself.

And for…

For others.

That Sidney’s passing her gift to you was catalytic.

That what’s going on is, in a sense, bigger than your response to the death of your loved dog.

Rather, an opening of a profound wound in your being which permits healing to progress.

So those are some of my feelings and thoughts about what you said.

Gustavo Brett

Hmm.

Well, one more thing to just respond to.

And I guess as I’d ask the question and then just tell this quick story, the question would be, is there some ways that you would encourage people to find ways to link themselves with their human grief, physical grief and emotional grief, and this connection?

Connection to that person’s life or soul or spirit as a past.

You know, this paradox of, yes, it’s this way on earth and then connecting with what isn’t so earthly.

I had a friend who’s doing a documentary about people who lose their dogs and she said she had asked life or God or whatever, to give her a sign or Kali to give her a sign that she had made it cleanly to the other side.

And after they had cremated her, she came home and there was a magazine in the mail with a picture of a woman walking a dog.

And it looked a lot like Kali.

And she thought, well, you know, that’s a bit of a coincidence.

You know, maybe that’s it.

And then later that day, she went back to it.

And on the corner was this tiny little inscription of the illustrator of that picture.

And the woman’s name was Kali.

And as soon as she said that, what hit my intuition was, that’s life wanting you to know that it’s okay.

Both, but for some reason, both sides are okay.

That she was here and now she isn’t.

That’s what hit me when she said that.

Like message, you know, in a bottle, in the form of a mailbox.

And so with that, you know, are there things we can do to strengthen our ability to connect and open ourselves to the graduation process of death?

John Records

Thank you for that beautiful story.

Thank you.

I appreciated the… the nuance and the finesse of that expression of the, you know, the woman walking the dog, the picture that looks kind of like Kali, and then to see the little inscription with the person’s name.

I think the workings of the divine in our life are often not recognized.

They can be very subtle.

So in response to your question, I note that Jesus said, ask and you will receive.

Knock and the door will be opened.

So to ask for what?

To ask for what we want.

And then to look for it, like your friend did.

And I think that by asking, for instance, to the universe or to the divine, to Jesus, you know, whatever works for you, say, I miss my dog, my spouse, my child so much.

Please give me a sign that all is well.

Or let me know more about the next steps

Then, then to be on the lookout for a response to that.

So to ask, to knock on the door, and then to observe.

I think the fact that we ask the question, that may be part of how the answer is already offering it to us.

In other words, it may come into our perception in a way we’re not aware of, that there’s an opportunity to be reassured, and by asking the question, we align ourselves with the process of that expression and that reassurance.

The question may not just come from us, in other words.

It may be kind of a prompting of the divine to ask that question.

Gustavo Brett

Well, I made a deal with Sidney that we’d see each other in a field, beyond the, I call it the field, beyond the field, beyond the veil.

I don’t use that to hide my grief.

And I don’t think it’ll be the same, you know, as it was when we were here.

That’s a key component, I think, to that.

And I allow us to be together for whatever time it is, and then transition however we’re going to transition again.

But I’m glad that at least a part of me is open to any form of connecting and being with her, or being around her, or understanding more about my own life and other people’s lives and deaths.

So I am grateful for the grief.

I’m very grateful for it.

I’m not thrilled and happy about its power, but graduation is just that.

It’s a celebration, and it’s facing the unknowing at the same time.

And the next steps.

Yeah, and then what’s next.

So thank you.

Thank you for that teaching and that explanation.

And anything in closing to say to people about graduation?

John Records

I think that it’s important that we live the lives that we have.

Sometimes people are very concerned about what their prior lives were, what their next lives will be.

Let’s live the lives that we have now, and love fully, mourn, and grieve, as we must.

And celebrate when we can.

Gustavo Brett

Indeed.

Mm.

Amen.

Thank you, John.

This is Gustavo Brett and John Records, Molten Golden Teachings.

Thanks everybody.

This has been a Molten Golden Mountain Teachings with John Records.

John can be reached at moltengoldenmountain.com.

Produced, recorded, and interviewed by Gustavo Brett at Transform Studios.

We’re continuing our revist of meditation in the light of awakening. I’m drawing on my book Shortcuts to Meditation for the excerpts. If you’re not already using gestures of release, please incorporate these into your daily practice until our next class. Use the “reflections” to help assess the impact.

The next shortcut to meditation is the sighing exhalation. This is another relaxer, a variant of gestures of release, and is good preparation for meditation.

We’re always breathing and often don’t notice our breath. Sometimes as we exhale we sigh, we make a sound in our throat as we let the air out in the exhalation. This may happen on its own when we are tired or exasperated.

I suggest you practice the following privately by yourself, as others may take your sigh personally.

We can intentionally make an audible sigh when we exhale. Try it now: exhale and make a sound like “haaah.” It’s not a laugh, that’s just the way I’m spelling it as I listen to my own sound. A variation is “whew.” Experiment and use what is easy and natural for you as you sigh during the exhalation.

What do you notice when you do this sighing exhalation? Do it again, and notice how it feels. Do it again, with the feeling that you are just letting go as you sigh.

That simple sound is actually another gesture of release. Your sigh is a gesture that’s made with your vocal apparatus, involving the epiglottis, the throat, the tongue, the mouth and the lungs. A simple sighing exhalation brings intentional release to several parts of your body.

Sometimes during the sighing exhalation we know what we’re letting go of:

Sigh, it’s been a long day.

Sigh, I’ve got a big project.

Sigh, I’m so tired.

Sigh, really, do you want to go there again?

Sometimes your sigh can express your enjoyment and delight. “Ahhhh!”

We can have different tones and sounds in our sigh. These all express our mood, and they each can provide relaxation and release.

Do it now and see what comes up for you. You can bring to mind something you’d like to let go of (perhaps something that comes to mind often and that you’d just as soon not have with you), and sigh as you let it go, as you release it. This is very much like opening your hand as a gesture of release.

Do it again with a different sound.

When using the sighing exhalation in your meditation practice, you can include it at any point of the practice. Too, you can use it with another shortcut. For instance, you could make the sighing exhalation as you bow, and as you open your clenched hand.

It’s been a long day for me and I’m going to bed soon. Ahhhhh!

Reflections

Do you notice a difference between sighing out loud as you exhale, and not sighing?

Are you comfortable sighing out loud, in private? If not, I encourage you to practice doing it to get the benefits of the release.

Have you tried bringing something to mind that you want to let go of, such as something that has been bothering you, and consciously releasing that as you sigh and exhale?

We’re continuing our revist of meditation in the light of awakening. I’m drawing on my book Shortcuts to Meditation for the excerpts. If you’re not already using gestures of release, please incorporate these into your daily practice until our next class. Use the “reflections” to help assess the impact.

A very simple shortcut to meditation is resting in the stillness at the end of the sighing exhalation, prior to the next inhalation.

There’s a still place after you exhale and before you inhale. It’s that moment when the air no longer is leaving your lungs, but has not started coming back in.

Notice this for yourself. Exhale (with a sigh if you like) and notice the pause and the stillness before you inhale again.

That pause after the exhalation and before the next inhalation is a wonderful portal to peace. Your body is momentarily more still during the pause between breaths than it is during the rest of the breathing cycle. You have the opportunity to feel this stillness, to appreciate it, to abide in it, to abide as it.

The companion practice to the sighing exhalation from the previous chapter is simply to rest in the stillness at the end of the exhalation

What’s really wonderful about this is that the stillness is always there. You find it most easily at the pause at the end of the exhalation, but it’s always there.

So with each breath you can find the stillness. Having found it you realize that it doesn’t go away, it’s just that you’re not noticing it most of the time.

Once you find the stillness at the end of the exhalation, then you can maintain awareness of the stillness during your next inhalation, during your next exhalation, and thereafter. You needn’t wait until the pause at the end of the exhalation to bask in the stillness.

Let’s do it now:

Close your eyes (optional).

Exhale (sighing if you like).

Find the pause at the end of the exhalation.

Feel the stillness in that pause.

Let the pause extend a bit, but not so much that you are holding your breath.

Continue to feel the stillness as you inhale.

Continue to feel the stillness as you exhale and at the end of the exhalation.

Let the pause at the end of the exhalation naturally extend.

Continue breathing at a natural pace, feeling your stillness.

Do this for 10 or more breaths.

Notice the peace, your peace.

You can keep doing this as long as you want, and as noted elsewhere you can include it with other shortcuts, and/or use it to potentiate your present practice.

It’s ok to lose count of your breaths, but if your mind wanders you can just resume the practice described above, or perhaps do a bow or a gesture of release to clear your mind and help you to refocus.

In time you will realize that you’re not merely in relationship with the stillness, not any more than you are in relationship with your bones. Just as your bones are part of your body, your stillness is part of your being. It’s different than bones, though, in that this stillness is an aspect of the ground of all Being. And that’s not other than the foundation of you, your very own Self!

The locus of your identity can shift from what you presently think of as yourself, to include the stillness. This timeless stillness and peace of mind that naturally comes from the stillness provides perspective on the other aspects of your life. You’ll still have your ups and downs, yet these will arise in the context of your continuing awareness of your stillness—the ground of all Being.

Reflections

What’s it like for you to rest in stillness? Is it different to rest as stillness?

Sometimes people feel frustrated if thoughts or feelings arise during the practice. Is this your experience?

Remember that if this happens (thoughts or feelings), you can do another bow or other shortcut to settle yourself.

If you just observe thoughts or feelings that arise and feel the sensations and energy of them, you may notice the stillness from which they arise. That stillness always is there.

Now please look at The Power of Being Seen and Loved, below.

We’re continuing our revisit of meditation in the light of awakening. I’m drawing on my book Shortcuts to Meditation for the excerpts. If you’re not already using the namaste gesture, please incorporate this into your daily practice until our next class. Use the “reflections” to help assess the impact.

Some of the prior shortcuts were gestures of release in preparation for meditation. This shortcut is a gesture of coming together.

You may already know the gesture associated with namaste. We put our palms firmly together in the center of our chest, in front of the heart. This joins the two palm chakras (energy centers) in front of another chakra in the area of the heart. This makes us feel more whole.

Try it now. Put your left and right palms firmly together and hold them close to your chest, so that the sides of your thumbs are touching your chest. What do you notice?

Separate your palms slowly. What do you notice when you do that?

Bring your palms together slowly, in front of your heart with your thumbs touching your chest. Hold this for at least 10 seconds. What do you notice? How do you feel in your chest, in your neck, in your face, in your belly, in your back?

When you do the namaste gesture by yourself, you can hold the posture as long as you want. I find it best to do at the end of my practice, to reintegrate myself after having let go and abided in stillness.

When we share namaste with another person, both do this posture, look into each other’s eyes, then bow the head a little. When we do this we are acknowledging the wholeness, the unity, the Spirit, the Divinity, in the other person. Our wholeness sees and recognizes and validates the wholeness in the other person. It’s like a mirror for the Divine to look at itself and to see itself in the form of another.

When practiced with another person, namaste helps to midwife the further expression of Spirit or Divinity in the life of both parties, and hence into the world. It’s very and sacred to participate in this.

It’s not a coincidence that when people are depicted praying in the Judeo-Christian tradition their palms come together. That’s another validation that bringing their hands together is a shortcut to meditation and peace.

To incorporate namaste into your practice, you could well start with a bow, then gestures of release, then the sighing exhalation followed by resting in stillness found at the end of the breath. Then when you’re ready to complete your practice, do namaste, stay in that position as long as you want, and think lovingly of any person or creature. This will share your wholeness with them.

As you bring more wholeness into your own life, you bring more wholeness into the world.

Namaste, dear friend!

Reflections

• What do you notice as you bring the palms of your hands together slowly over your heart?

• Is there a difference in your awareness and calmness between having your hands in the namaste posture, and having your hands otherwise, such as resting on your thighs?

• What is it like for you when you mentally namaste a person who is not physically present? Have you done this with loved ones? How about people whom you dislike?

We’re continuing our revisit of meditation in the light of awakening. I’m drawing on my book Shortcuts to Meditation for the excerpts. Here’s the culminating chapter, about using all of the shortcuts.

You can use the shortcuts any time of day. You needn’t wait until you’re alone in your meditation space to use the shortcuts, although it likely will help your practice to make and take time every day for your meditation.

You can use the shortcuts individually, either to prepare for your existing meditation practice or on their own—each is a great gateway to your meditation.

You also can also stack them and use them all sequentially, looping back to do some of them again and using them as tools to augment your peace.

Here’s an example of stacking the shortcuts:

• Sit down on the floor (with a cushion) or in a chair. Maintain your spine reasonably erect so you don’t fall asleep, but not ramrod straight.
• Close your eyes (optional but recommended).
• Put your attention at the tip of your tailbone.
• Inhale slowly, pulling your attention from the tip of your spine to the top of your head.
• Bend your chin toward your chest and exhale slowly, making a sighing sound, as you bend forward for a comfortable but not painful stretch of your back and neck.
• While in the bowed position, notice the stillness at the end of your exhalation.
• Breath normally, feeling the stillness that you noticed at the end of your exhalation as you continue to inhale and exhale.
• When you’re ready, slowly bring your head back to the sitting, unbowed position, letting your lungs naturally fill with air as you sit up.
• As you sit, notice your peace of mind and feel the stillness. Stay with the stillness until thoughts or feelings intrude.
• Let the intruding thoughts or feelings clench your hand or, if they are really powerful, let them clench your body.
• Unclench and notice your peace.
• If you continue to have intruding thoughts or feelings, do another gesture of release, or a bow, or both.
• Stay in the peace that you find at any place in this practice. Once you’ve found the peace, simply feel it, dissolve into it, and stay with it until there are intruding thoughts or feelings at which point you can find your peace again using any of the shortcuts.
• When you are ready, do namaste by putting your palms firmly together over your heart with your thumbs touching your chest, and bow your head slightly.
• Give thanks to all who have ever supported you in any way, and your blessings to any individuals who come to mind (living or dead), and to all beings.
• Ask for whatever you may need in your life.
• Sit quietly for a bit, then as you continue to feel your peace, go about your day.

Reflections

• Have you tried all of the shortcuts together? What is that like for you?

• Do you find yourself lingering with any of the shortcuts?

• Is there one or more shortcut(s) that seems to be more effective for you?

• How long are you practicing daily?

• Do you practice during the day with any of the shortcuts?

• Are you practicing in the evening?

Now please continue and review “Blessings from Incorporeal Beings” and “Expression: Love in Action.”

This entry concludes our review of meditation in light of awakening. My big point here is that many people hope that at some undetermined time in the future they will attain enlightenment, awakening, Self-Realization, entering into the Kingdom of Heaven, and so forth. When I ask them what they think that will be like, many are uncertain.

If you reflect on those times in your own life when you have been at utter peace, simple, loving, in wonder, with no sense of the past or the future, nothing lacking, no sense of self, and clear, that is what it is like. Your locus of identity has changed. This all may come and go.

You’ve likely already experienced this and may not have recognized it at the time. Keep up your practice of meditation, your love in action, blossoming into your entelechy, and this will become more and more your baseline state of consciousness.

Lyrics to Simple Gifts, sung by Judy Collins:

Tis’ the gift to be simple tis’ the gift to be free

tis’ the gift to come down where you ought to be

and when we find ourselves in the place just right

T’will be in the valley of love and delight

When true simplicity is gained

to bow and to bend we shant be ashamed

to turn, turn will be our delight

til by turning, turning we come ‘round right

In times of uncertainty, it is natural to feel fear and anxiety. Political unrest, climate challenges, and personal struggles like illness or grief can make us feel as though we are standing on a fragile limb, unsure of where we stand or what comes next. Yet, in the midst of these difficulties, we are called to remember something essential about our true nature.

Libana’s song, Be Like a Bird, offers a profound image of resilience:

“Be like a bird,

who, halting in her flight

on a limb too slight,

feels it give way beneath her,

yet sings, sings,

knowing she has wings.”

Even when the ground beneath us (or the limb on which we sit) feels shaky, we can still sing. The bird sings not because she is oblivious to the uncertainty, but because she knows she has wings. She trusts in her innate capacity to rise, to move beyond the fragile branch. We, too, have this capacity. We are not trapped by our circumstances or bound by the challenges we face.

Meditation helps us to remember this. When we turn inward and realize the depth of our being, we discover that we are far more than the stories of fear and limitation we tell ourselves. We begin to feel the presence of our “wings”—our inner strength, peace, and freedom. This deep knowing allows us to live with greater joy, even in the face of hardship.

As individuals, we carry the capacity for resilience, but we are also part of a greater whole. Our collective resilience—our shared history of facing adversity—runs deep. Across generations and cultures, people have persevered through wars, natural disasters, and societal upheaval.

We can draw strength not only from our own inner resources but from the knowledge that we are part of a resilient community, one that has the ability to rise together, adapt, and create a better world. In unity, we can support one another, weathering these storms with a greater sense of hope and courage.

We don’t have to be consumed by fear or caught in the illusion of being stuck. Just as the bird sings amidst the uncertainty, we too can live joyously, trusting in our own wings—trusting in our capacity to be free.

Let’s come together in this remembrance. Through meditation, we cultivate resilience, and through resilience, we find our song. Be like a bird! And take comfort from our “flock.”

I’d like to offer you some admonitions and quotations to help you to live powerfully and happily in coming months and years.

Be careful about media consumption. Most media offerings have an angle, an agenda, a desire to shape your choices and behavior. If you feel you must stay up to date on the news, the Christian Science Monitor has a good reputation for truth and evenhandedness. It’s not a Christian publication as such. https://www.csmonitor.com.

Turn away from fear. Evoking fear is used intentionally to manipulate you. Both of the major political parties do this. Remember who you are. You are not just flesh and bone; you are also the spark of Divinity awakening in and as you. Fearfulness does not become you, although prudence has its place. Continue to wear your seatbelt!

Avoid catastrophizing. There’s reason for concern—and there’s always a lot of reason for concern! We don’t know what’s going to happen. Some of it will be upsetting, some useful. Our path remains the same.

What does your Love in Action look like now? What is your natural healthy expression that benefits others as you blossom into your entelechy?

“Be the change you want to see in the world.” This is incorrectly attributed to Gandhi, but consistent with his thought. He did say, “My life is my message.” How might this apply to you?

“We can do small things with great love,” according to Mother Teresa. In your family, in your community, your small acts of love make a big difference. You don’t need to save the world. Act with love as much as you can with those around you. Too, can you apply this to activities? Can you cook with love? Make quilts with love? Craft wood with love? Drink a glass of water with love?

Rumi offers thoughts that align with Mother Teresa’s above. He said, “Be a lamp or a lifeboat or a ladder. Help someone’s soul heal. Walk out of your house like a shepherd.“

Meditate daily, or more frequently. Do the One Heart practice. Keep honoring and claiming the depth, breath, and span of your Divinity. This helps put your daily life and world events in perspective.

Continue to connect with people who love and appreciate you, like our sangha group. This is mutually nurturing.

Work for what you love, not against what you hate. Resist, resist, resist becoming hateful and embittered. That is a corrosive fuel for your activism.

Remember Gandhi’s exhortation: “Full effort is full victory.” We’re not responsible for outcomes. For things you care about, put all of your heart, mind, soul, and strength into it—that is “full effort.” And that also is your victory, regardless of what the outcome is.

I want to share a story about one of my most profound spiritual encounters—a week spent with my teacher, Paramahamsa Hariharananda. For those unfamiliar, he was a deeply realized yogi and monk who dedicated his life to the Divine. At the time, he was nearly 95 years old, and though his body was frail, his spirit was radiant. Being with him was like standing in the presence of something far greater than words can describe.

Paramahamsa Hariharananda had reached a state of consciousness called nirvikalpa samadhi, the highest stage of meditation. In this state, the sense of self dissolves completely, and one becomes fully absorbed in the Divine. For him, his heart and breathing would stop while in this state. He would re-emerge into daily life, trailing clouds of glory. Imagine being so immersed in love, peace, and unity that the boundaries between “you” and “God” vanish. That was his reality.

When you were in his vicinity (not just near him), you could feel his energy—a palpable sense of holiness, like the warmth of sunlight or the scent of fresh bread filling a room. It wasn’t just his presence; it was the energy around him, as if the air itself was charged with grace. Being with him was both soothing and rejuvenating, like slipping into a warm bath after a long, exhausting day.

His appearance was deceiving. He spent most of his time lying in bed, absorbed in meditation, his body worn from nearly a century of life. But don’t let that fool you. Twice, he grabbed me with a strength that defied his frail frame. Once, to show me a beautiful flower; another time, to pull me closer to him. Both times, I was stunned—it felt like being pulled by an irresistible force far beyond physical strength.

He was gentle but fierce in his teaching. If you came to him with a sincere desire to grow spiritually, he would help you, but not always in ways that felt comfortable. He had a way of exposing the parts of ourselves we cling to—our fears, attachments, and habits—and helping us to let them go. This sometimes was brutally painful, like being scoured.

During my visit, I spent hours summarizing his lectures and guided meditations. His teachings were simple yet profound. Here are some of the things he said:

“Through sight you see the seer. It is all coming from soul. Who is seeing but God? You practice it, when you will walk, how God is walking. You are not realizing this; apply it in your daily life. When you walk, feel that God is walking. When you stand, feel the divine vibration of God’s presence within you. Watch how the power of God is moving in you. You are forgetting, and deviated from truth. If you remember that you and He are one, and always have been, you are the immortal soul. He is doing work through you. He loves you.”

“The power of God is within you. Your blood is the blood of Jesus, your face is the face of Jesus, the power of Jesus is within you. Remain in God, then all the time you will perceive the presence of Jesus within you. This is religion. This is both the practice and the result of following the path.”

“Walk and feel that He is walking, eat and feel that He is eating, laugh and feel that He is laughing. If you forget, it is your death. You are advancing toward immortality. If death dies, then who will die? Practice it. Who can say who will die earlier, you or I? So just complete your course. Mistake is not mistake, it is for correction. We learn from mistakes. God is giving you time to change your mistakes. Constant alertness, constant perception of Self. This is Kriya Yoga. Seer, sight, seen are one. Feel that at any moment you can die.”

These teachings weren’t just words; they were invitations to live in constant awareness of the Divine presence within and around us.

One of the most memorable moments came toward the end of my trip. I had decided to ask him, mentally, for the gift of “God-intoxication”—to be swept away, ravished by the Divine. As I walked toward his room, I reflected on the surrounding enormous lush garden he had designed. He knew intimately every plant, every tree. In that moment, I felt a quiet assurance: he was the master gardener, and I was one of his plants. He watered me, nurtured me, and pruned me. He knew exactly what I needed to grow.

As I continued walking toward his room, I let fall my wish for God intoxication. Enough to offer my love to him, and let what was to come, come in its own time. He was lying in his bed, very still. I touched my head tenderly to his sock-clad feet, and stood up, my hands clasped in front of my chest.

“Come here,” he said. I carefully walked over and knelt beside his bed. He looked at me from his pillow and smiled. He reached up with his hand and made a small gesture to come near. I did so, and he stroked the side of my face. Then he pulled my head to his chest and held it. “I am very happy that you have come. It is very cold in your place. But it is very warm here.”

Held close by this ancient yogi, a being from another culture, almost a century old, a being who strides through realms unknown and unimaginable to me, “Thank you, thank you, thank you” reverberated within me. He had the wisdom, and the wish, to love me in a way that I could understand and respond to. It was a deeply human intimacy, God-in-Hariharananda holding me close to his heart, caressing me, blessing me, inviting me to return.

That week with Paramahamsa Hariharananda was a reminder of what’s possible when we open ourselves fully to the Divine. It wasn’t just about the teachings or the moments of grace; it was about the way he lived—one with the Divine, yet present for those who came to him.

I share this story not just to honor him, but to remind all of us that the Divine is always within reach. Whether we call it God, Ultimate Reality, or simply Love, it’s there, waiting for us to remember and to realize it as our own Self. And sometimes, if we’re fortunate, we meet someone who helps us on our path.

There’s a story of a merchant seeking beautiful pearls, who, when he had found one pearl of great price, went and sold all that he had and bought it.

In this context, the pearl beyond price symbolizes something of supreme, incomparable value—often interpreted as divine truth, enlightenment, salvation, or the realization of one’s true nature. It suggests that once a person recognizes this ultimate treasure, they are willing to give up everything else for it.

Recently, one of our members asked (paraphrased): “How can I transcend?” This person seeks the pearl beyond price. The question touches on a deep desire—to go beyond our current circumstances and connect with a larger Reality that lies beyond our everyday experiences.

Deep down, we may sense that life offers more than what we see. We might feel whispers from eternity, a hint that there is much more to our world and ourselves than meets the eye. Not everyone realizes that connecting with this greater Reality is possible. In spiritual terms, this larger Reality is often called “God.”

Paramahamsa Yogananda, a world-reknowned spiritual teacher, said it takes good karma to even want to know God. Similarly, Blaise Pascal, a 17th-century French philosopher and mathematician, noted, “There is a God-shaped vacuum in the heart of each person…” This void or longing can be seen as a divine invitation—to seek and embrace the fullness of existence.

As we become aware of this inner void, we might feel a strong desire to be immersed in and filled by this greater Reality. But how?

This sacred journey varies among people. We all have different characters, needs, and gifts. Some may already feel a personal connection with the Divine, through interactions with entities like Grandmother Tree, Divine Mother, Guanyin, Hariharananda, or Jesus. These embodiments of wisdom and compassion can guide and support us, offering insights, comfort, encouragement, and awakening. Many, however, do not have such personal connections with the Divine.Having walked the spiritual path for over 40 years and drawing from diverse traditions and teachers, I have found that the One Heart Practice is particularly accessible and transformative. This practice helps foster a heart-centered connection with the greater Reality, inviting a deeper sense of unity and peace.

One Heart Practice Instructions:

The One Heart Practice involves a series of meditative gestures, each designed to expand awareness from the individual to the universal:

1. Namaste Gesture: Start with hands together in front of the heart, acknowledging the Divine within yourself and others.
2. My Heart: Cross your hands at the heart, connecting with your own heart center.
3. Our Hearts: Open the gesture to include a group, fostering a sense of collective connection.
4. More Hearts: Open the gesture even wider to include a larger group.
5. All Hearts: Open the gesture fully, expanding awareness to encompass all beings across time and space.
6. One Heart: Slowly close the gesture, gathering in All Hearts into the unifying Namaste gesture. This expresses the loving integration of all hearts into the universal One Heart (where they always have been).

Throughout these steps, remain open to various emotions and sensations, from profound peace to heightened awareness of universal suffering and love.

These steps are usually repeated three or more times, with the practitioner’s sense of self subtly expanding to that of the One Person. After several cycles, there might arise a sense of the One Person claiming the heart and life of the practitioner as Its own.

Adaptability and Personal Experience

A key aspect of the One Heart Practice is its flexibility. Practitioners are encouraged to adapt the gestures and approach to suit their individual needs and experiences. This adaptability ensures that the practice remains accessible and meaningful across diverse spiritual backgrounds and personal preferences.

Daily Practice

I strongly encourage you to practice this daily, and to notice changes in your awareness. One Heart is a great start for your daily meditation practice. After three cycles of One Heart you might find that abiding in inner peace and love is simple and easy.

Below is what members of our sangha say about their One Heart practice. You might find their views inspiring and helpful in your own practice.

I strongly recommend that you do it at least daily. It’s a small investment for big results.

The One Heart Practice is a great grounding and centering practice, especially when bookended at the start and end of the day. I notice that I become more present during the practice, and that I become aware of the practice and the presence that it evokes throughout the day.

I shorten the practice when there are distractions around, and I find that it especially connects me to the hearts of those within my experience and fosters positive relationships with them. I feel that the One Heart Practice could be a 6th “Shortcut to Powerful Meditation” in this way.

The practice has the most benefit for me if I perform a set of prostrations beforehand.

The practice ranges from several formal rounds to snippets which arise unbidden throughout my day. Always a pleasant surprise.

The feeling I experience with the practice, strongest afterwards, is a sense of ripening and gratitude. It is a part of my ground.

I like that we hug ourself and then the world (all hearts) at all times - this puts me into the essential timeless place I am not used to. I don’t have as much relationship to namaste as it’s more common.

I’m not a fan of the prescribed hand movements. I resonated with all of the philosophy. So I thought, I will create a way to practice the meditation that will work for me…maybe with hand motions, maybe something else.

I have added it to my meditation routine. After a bow and then a few breaths, I concentrate on my feet being grounded and stay there for a while feeling secure and connected. I then open my hands and slowly bring them into Namaste/One Heart position. This position helps me feel very connected to the divine and focus on opening my Crown Chakra and breath and hang out here for a while. At this point I am always in a wonderful meditative space.

Then I put my hands over my heart and feel my breath into my hands. After a while I open my hands and include my family and friends and often think of them individually and often may say a prayer and have a revelation about them.

Then I open my hands further and further expanding consciousness to all. I slowly draw my hands to One Heart position as to gather all of us up into a universal consciousness and into my heart I then touch my heart again and stay in the the mediation, as I am now grounded, connected and open to the divine.

I immediately notice myself settling down as I start to mediate and feel very soft and loving during the process. The one heart practice gives me a bit of structure while engaging my heart and I often get “lost” in the meditation. I end with a One Heart position and a bow.

In doing the one heart practice I notice a concentration on the gestures. When it is complete, I realize I have experienced less wandering. There is a quietness and focus that I appreciate.

I meditate weekly with a neighbor and friend and we did one heart together prior to meditating this morning—she likes it!

The One Heart Practice on Monday helped me settle in and feel very connected with the group. My day had been pretty hectic and the news was awful, so I appreciated practicing together. I plan to use the One Heart Practice with my women’s group later this month.

Thank you so much – it also helped to have it all written out, numbered in a row to review and remind myself the order. Several times, I’ve forgotten the “my heart” part of it and then need to start over.

I do find that it focuses me in for a meditative place, and doing it 3 times as you suggested helps to bring my wandering mind back in. Sometimes, my mind goes to concerns when thinking about all hearts in the world, but then it also helps me remind myself of the hearts behind the surface issues and settle in.

The overall One Heart practice does help me feel more focused, settled, and calm. And, it feels do-able, which helps a lot.

The One Heart Practice is a great tool in my meditation tool box. I use this practice about once every couple weeks when I feel the need to connect my heart to others.

For instance, when other people may be in pain and I do not know how I can help (such as LBGTQ community who are suffering under Trump’s policies). Another example is using it when I was very anxious about my cancer diagnostic screens that occur every 6 months. It connected me to other people in my community who I do not know personally, but go through the similar screenings and probably have anxiety about them.

Overall, the One Heart Practice gives me peace and connection. [note from John: I suggested to this person that they practice daily for a week and observe how that affects their life]

Comedian Garrison Keillor recently restated the Golden Rule:

“Do unto others as you wish the bastards would do unto you,” and this is no piece of cake. [The verse says]: “Love your enemy, bless those who curse you. If someone takes your coat, let them have your shirt too. Do not judge, do not condemn.”

What the hell? I do not love my enemy. He is Putin’s patsy and so we should let him take Ukraine and let him have Poland and Sweden too? I don’t think so. But this apparently is what Jesus said, that I should love the unelected Nazi who is cutting American aid to starving people in Africa.

Similarly, attributed to the Buddha:

Hatred does not cease by hatred at any time

Hatred ceases by love

This is an unalterable law

For those who remember that death comes to all

All quarrels end.

What’s your view?

The longer I live, the more deeply I learn that love - whether we call it friendship or family or romance - is the work of mirroring and magnifying each other’s light.

• James Baldwin

This is the essence of our sangha. It’s also the foundation of the development of our entelechy.

My friend Doug Matchett, who has participated in the sangha a couple of times, has really taken to the One Heart Practice, and now shares it with others. Doug offers this quote in his email signature:

The Heart is the hub of all sacred places. Enter there and roam.

– Bhagavan Nityananda.

Doug and Heather of our group have been discussing the practice and how to share this, and Doug recently offered the following:

I’ve continued to reflect on One Heart experience and how to share it. Here is an outline of an approach to describing three cycles that I may try next time I share. The emphasis this time would be on the different perspectives one might encounter.

First cycle - as my daily self

• One Heart - I bow in reverence to One Heart.

• My Heart - I feel into the joy, love I experince in My Heart

• Our Hearts - I feel myself, my heart in relationship to you, sharing our love and compassion

• More Hearts - I feel myself in relationship to the larger group, sharing in our community

• All Hearts - I feel myself in relationship to all hearts everywhere, sharing in our love of life with all of its richness.

• One Heart - I feel myself in loving relationship to One Heart, held by One Heart

Second cycle - as each of the aspects of One Heart

• My Heart - as My Heart, held by One Heart, I acknowledge the love and joy as my nature.

• Our Hearts - as Our Hearts - this shared relationship that is neither me nor you and also both me and you, held in One Heart, I relish the love, kinship and expanded sense of being of Our Hearts.

• More Hearts - as More Hearts, this larger community of hearts, held in One Heart, I take joy in our shared love and connection and support, and embrace my even greater, more expanded sense of being.

• All Hearts - as All Hearts everywhere in time and space and scale, held in One Heart, I am the joy of being and the compassion for our suffering. My sense of being is boundless.

• One Heart - as One Heart, without size or form. I am loving effulgent energy, pure potentiality.

Third cycle - as One Heart

• My Heart - I am One Heart holding and cherishing My Heart, and I am My Heart loving being held.

• Our Hearts - I am One Heart holding Our Hearts and Our Hearts, full of gratitude, being held in the boundless loving expanse of One Heart.

• More Hearts - I am One Heart holding this community of More Hearts in a sea of blessing and love. And I am More Hearts, a community of hearts, bound together in love and gratitude, being held in the boundless loving expanse of One Heart.

• All Hearts - I am One Heart holding All Hearts, the manifestation of my joy in being, in boundless love and compassion. And I am All Hearts, held in One Heart, embracing the poignancy of embodiment.

• One Heart - I am One Heart in all of my aspects, manifest and unmanifest, both form and formless. I am both Life and Love.

How You Can Use Doug’s Offering

(John’s comment)

Doug’s words are a description of his experience, a guide for you, and a transmission of his well-developed spirituality.

On first reading, just read it in a normal way to orient yourself. Then read it aloud to yourself slowly, carefully, lingering over words or phrases that resonate with you, savoring it, and doing the gestures. What do you notice?

The moment we choose to love we begin to move against domination, against oppression. The moment we choose to love we begin to move towards freedom, to act in ways that liberate ourselves and others.

-Bell Hooks

• Have you experienced others acting in ways that liberate themselves and others?
• How might you act in ways that liberate yourself and others?

“Each ordinary present has a subtle past-present-future to it that provides a feeling of identity, continuity and direction.”

Tarthang Tulku

Time, Space and Knowledge

In the pulse of inner life immediately present now in each of us is a little past, a little future, a little awareness of our own body, of each other’s persons, of these sublimities we are trying to talk about, of the earth’s geography and the direction of history, of truth and error, of good and bad, and of who knows much more?”

William James, Known as the Father of American Psychology

“Your physically felt body is, in fact, part of a gigantic system of here and other places, now and other times, you and other people, in fact the whole universe. This sense of being bodily alive in a vast system is the body as it is felt from the inside.”

Gene Gendlin, Founder of Focusing

Cathy Pascal

The above quotes helps us to contemplate the nature of our lived experience, including existence of the felt sense, which lies at the heart of Focusing.

A felt sense is a freshly forming, bodily sense of some life situation or moment—not the same as a simple emotion or thought. Eugene Gendlin, a philosopher and psychologist, developed a method for facilitating felt senses: the Focusing process.

Felt senses involve dropping down below language to the creative flow of experience that runs beneath—like a wellspring of fresh life.

You have arrived in this moment with a certain history, geography, biology and psychology, life long and recent. A long and connected series of events in your life has led you to this Sangha, and to open this page, and to read these words. It’s a certain time of day and season and climate, you are located in a certain place which may also house other beings, or objects that have meaning to you. There are many things happening in the world, and in your location and life specifically. All of these things are present in the Now. All of this is subtly and not so subtly, carried in your Body.

We refer here to the Body, with a Capital B, not solely your physical body, but the Body as your field of your experience.

It might be interesting for you to sit with the above and notice how it lands in your Body.

What is your Felt Sense of Now? What is it like to be you in this moment? How would you describe your experience? Let your organism communicate with you in whatever form naturally arises: sensations, emotions, memories, images.

See if you can listen deeply and keep “it” (whatever is there) company in a gentle and unobtrusive way, that is from a place of Presence or Loving Awareness. Our attitude towards our experience is key: curious, allowing, compassionate. We are not fixing, judging or rescuing.

This is just a taste — To be continued …

Here is some information about Focusing excerpted from my website: LifeForwardMovement.com

What is Focusing?

Focusing is a mind/body process and method of inner attention that you can use to bring clarity, movement and growth into all areas of your life. When you Focus, you pay compassionate attention to a holistic body awareness (a felt sense) that holds meaning in your life. You learn to notice and listen to these felt senses and receive the deep level of information and experience that they hold. It is a way to make contact with your inner life directly and freshly, disengaging from familiar patterns and creating new ones. Because the whole self is involved, the result of Focusing is not only greater knowledge and insight, but directly experienced life change. You understand yourself better, you feel better, and you act in ways that are more likely to create the life that you want.

Focusing provides a practical and specific framework for tapping into an inner awareness that is more than our thoughts and feelings. We have all heard that it is good to be in touch with ourselves, Focusing teaches you how. The process of Focusing can be used by itself or in combination with other modalities — including psychotherapy, bodywork, and creative pursuits.

Based upon research into personal change, the principles and methods of Focusing were originally identified and formulated by philosopher and psychotherapist Eugene Gendlin. It is a practice that corresponds with his major life work — The Philosophy of the Implicit. It was introduced to a wider audience with his book, Focusing, in 1978. Find out more information about Focusing.

What is Inner Relationship Focusing?

Inner Relationship Focusing (IRF) is a lineage of Focusing developed by Ann Weiser Cornell and Barbara McGavin. IRF is a well articulated and evolving healing modality that is being taught and practiced across the globe. As with all Focusing, once the process is learned, it can be done in a peer-to-peer exchange (called Focusing partnership) and the benefits can affect all areas of your life.

IRF emphasizes a state of awareness referred to as “Self-in-Presence.” This is a state of being that is open, present and allows for all kinds of internal experience, without being caught up or merged with it. The Inner Relationship refers to the relationship between Self-in-Presence and anything that comes up in your experience.

A great introduction to this work is The Power of Focusing: A Guide to Emotional Self Healing by Ann Weiser Cornell. Also, Focusing in Clinical Practice: The Essence of Change is a wonderful resource for healing professionals wanting to apply Focusing to their practice.

You may remember from our entelecy exploration the questions: “What breaks your heart? What gives you joy?” Your responses, however tentative, can provide guidance on how you use your time and other resources. In challenging times, focusing on just one or the other question can leave us unbalanced.

So ask yourself now, “What breaks my heart?” Sit with your answer, and feel your response in your body. Without rushing, ask yourself, “What gives me joy?” Feel your response in your body. Take your time.

You might also notice that in yourself which does not change as you respond to each question. What is that like for you?

As I’ve shared, in early October, an MRI revealed what appeared to be stage 3 prostate cancer—a PI-RADS 5 lesion with possible extraprostatic extension, meaning the cancer might have already broken through the prostate capsule. My PSA was elevated at 9.1. The radiologist’s report used language like “very high likelihood of clinically significant cancer.” My research prepared me for what seemed possible: cancer requiring prompt, intensive treatment.

I told you and a small circle of other friends, including several highly developed spiritual practitioners. My friends held me in their prayers. For someone who has spent much of his life being the one who offers support, who holds space for others, who prays for friends in need—this reversal was delicious. I became the one being held.

Three weeks later, the biopsy results arrived: Grade Group 1, Gleason 3+3=6, the lowest possible grade of prostate cancer. Minimal volume. No extraprostatic extension. A cancer so indolent that the standard of care is not treatment but watchful waiting—active surveillance. My urologist called it “the best possible diagnosis” given that cancer was present.

Did a Miracle Occur?

The question presents itself immediately, doesn’t it? Did the prayers work? Did the collective intention of skilled practitioners somehow shift the material reality of my body, transmuting aggressive cells into benign ones?

There’s a wonderful ambiguity here that I find myself wanting to preserve rather than resolve.

The medical reality is this: The MRI and PSA were suggestive but not determinative. Imaging can overcall severity—inflammation can mimic cancer, benign hyperplasia can look concerning. The biopsy is the gold standard, the actual sampling of tissue under microscope. Perhaps the MRI was simply wrong, or overly cautious. Perhaps what looked like stage 3 disease was always just low-grade cancer plus inflammation.

Perhaps without any prayers at all, the biopsy would have returned the same result.

But then again.

Then again, what do we actually know about the relationship between consciousness and matter? What do we know about the effects of focused intention, of love held steadily in the heart? The scientific literature on intercessory prayer is mixed and contested, but absence of proof is not proof of absence. And more fundamentally—the distinction between “physical” and “spiritual” reality may itself be a conceptual artifact, a way of parsing experience that doesn’t reflect the underlying wholeness of things.

The Real Miracle

But here’s what I’ve come to see: Whether or not the prayers “caused” the favorable biopsy result, something undeniably real occurred.

For three weeks, I was held in a field of love and care of my friends. They reached out to me. Practitioners I respect deeply devoted time and attention to my wellbeing. People who have their own struggles, their own challenges, made space for mine. The reciprocity of care that defines true community became visible and tangible.

I have spent much of my adult life in the role of supporter, teacher, helper, prayer-holder. I’ve appreciated being the one held, the one prayed for, the one whose fragility is visible. I got to let people see me uncertain, facing mortality. I got to receive rather than give. I got to trust that I was worthy of care not because of what I offer others, but simply because I am.

This is the miracle I can testify to with certainty: I was loved. I am loved.

Grace in the Ambiguity

What I find most spiritually interesting is precisely the ambiguity between these interpretations.

If the prayers “worked” in some direct, causal way—if the cancer was actually mitigated through spiritual intervention—then that’s grace operating at the level of material reality, which is wonderful and mysterious.

If the prayers didn’t causally affect the cancer, if the biopsy would have been favorable regardless—then grace operated at the level of relationship and revelation. The diagnosis became an occasion for love to be expressed, for community to activate, for me to experience myself as beloved. The cancer didn’t need to change for grace to be present. Grace was the love itself, the being-held itself, the remembering that I am not alone.

And perhaps most radically: Maybe these aren’t different things. Maybe grace doesn’t operate through just one channel or the other. Maybe the love that held me IS the field in which bodies heal or don’t heal, in which cells express or don’t express malignancy, in which outcomes that seemed probable become improbable. Not through magical thinking or denial of material causation, but through the fundamental interconnection and unity of all things.

The ambiguity allows me to hold both possibilities lightly. I don’t need to know which interpretation is “true” because both are true enough. Both describe something real that happened.

Reflections on this experience

Vulnerability is not weakness. Letting people know my circumstances, letting them see my uncertainty—this didn’t diminish me. It created space for a different kind of intimacy and truth.

Receiving is a practice. Many of us are more comfortable giving than receiving. But it really is necessary to learn to receive. It completes the circle. It acknowledges our mutual interdependence.

The outcome is not the only thing that matters. Even if the cancer had been stage 3, even if I were facing aggressive treatment, the love I experienced would have been real and sustaining. Grace doesn’t only show up when things go our way.

Community is not automatic—it has to be activated. By telling people what was happening, by asking to be held in prayer and good intentions, I activated the web of relationships that sustains me. That web was always there, but it needed to be engaged, energized, brought into conscious awareness.

Ambiguity can be a gift. Not knowing for certain whether prayers “worked” leaves room for mystery, for multiple levels of truth, for wonder. The need for certainty is often a defense against being fully present with what is.

Living Forward

I’ll continue with active surveillance—PSA monitoring, annual exams, a confirmatory biopsy in a year or two.

The cancer remains, indolent but present. This is not a story of miraculous cure and complete resolution.It’s a story of ambiguity, uncertainty, and grace showing up in the midst of both.

I’m grateful for the Grade Group 1 diagnosis. I’m grateful I don’t need immediate treatment. And I’m grateful for the three weeks when I didn’t know what the biopsy would show, when I was held in prayer and love by people who matter to me. Who hold me still.

Grace is not the absence of difficulty or the guarantee of favorable outcomes. Grace is the field of love that holds us regardless of what happens, the web of care that reveals itself when we’re willing to be vulnerable enough to realize that we need it.

I got to be reminded that I am loved—not for what I do or offer or accomplish, but simply because I am. That’s a miracle I can testify to with complete certainty.

I’ve been encouraging us all to find ways to say a small “yes” when opportunities for love or service present themselves.

A Gift

I had such an opportunity recently, and it was a great gift to me. I had gone to the regional medical center for a blood draw, and the parking lot was quite full. I scouted around and eventually found a space about as far as it could have been from the office I needed. As I walked toward the building, I saw out of the corner of my eye a woman struggling in a wheelchair.

It took me a moment to understand what was happening as I turned to look directly at her situation. She was in a wheelchair on a ramp that led into the side of a white van, and attached to the wheelchair was a service dog.

I walked over and asked if she could use a hand. She said, “Yes, please.” I looked closely at her circumstances and saw that the small front wheel of the wheelchair had gone off the edge of the ramp. She was stuck, and the ramp itself was very close to an adjacent car.

Together we figured out what needed to be done. She directed the dog, who was very calm and peaceable, and I moved to the front of the wheelchair, grasped the misplaced front wheel, and guided it back onto the ramp.

I wasn’t sure what to do next. I had learned some time ago that some people who are physically challenged may not always welcome offers of help. She solved my conundrum by asking me to push her in the wheelchair up the ramp. The sweet service dog led the way.

Once we three—the woman, the dog, and I—were in the van, I asked if there was anything else I could do. She said no and thanked me profusely. I said, “Oh, thank you so much. It was my honor and pleasure to assist you.”

I felt so wonderfully gratified to have been able to help. Helping like this is one of the great joys of my life. I remember how, as an elementary school kid in upstate New York where the winter snow was often deep, I enjoyed helping push cars out of ruts where they’d gotten stuck. This little opportunity felt much the same way.

It seemed like a marvelous coincidence that I, who love to help so much, happened upon her in this rather isolated place just as she needed assistance. Given the way my life works, I couldn’t help but wonder if somehow Providence had brought us together for mutual benefit. That evening I prayed for more such opportunities.

I also wondered if there might have been more I could have done for her—perhaps asking if she had enough food, or if she needed anything from the market. In hindsight, I wish I had made the inquiry.

First Lost Opportunity

A couple of months ago, I was at the UPS store to drop off an Amazon return, and a gray-haired man came in dressed in what looked like a nightshirt. He seemed quite distressed and told the woman at the counter that he had been awake for thirty-six hours straight. I once again felt the call to help, but he was taken into the back room by an employee to assist him with his detailed—and perhaps incoherent—concern.

I thought about going to knock on the door of the back room to see if I could be of assistance, or somehow arrange to connect with him as he left, but I decided against it since the UPS employee, at first blush, seemed to have the situation in hand. I had my own plans that weren’t urgent but still felt a tug to get on my way. In the moment, my thoughts went back and forth on whether to seek to help or not. As I reflect now, I think that uncertainty itself is enough of a cue to go ahead and take the next step toward helping. I wish I had felt into my heart before deciding not to proceed.

Second Lost Opportunity

I was stopped at an intersection on my bike, waiting for the light to change. Perhaps eight feet away, easily reachable, was a man with a sign asking for help. I smiled at him and then continued to wait to cross the street on my bike when the light changed. I was very focused on my own plans, and although I didn’t really have to be anywhere by a particular time, my mental drive and intention to get back home caused me not to connect with him further.

I could have walked my bike closer to where he was sitting and asked him how he was doing. I always keep twenty dollars with my phone when I’m out and about, and I could have given that to him—although that was more than I wanted to give. And that feeling on my part is really rather silly, because I could well afford to give someone twenty dollars. I didn’t find a way to say “yes.”

My intention now is to prepare better for those kinds of situations—perhaps by carrying some protein bars or fruit or five-dollar bills in my little bike pack—if that would help me be more comfortable and ready to respond. Just to be prepared to choose “yes,” to turn toward rather than to turn away.

How About You?

Have you said “yes” no matter how small, recently? Have you, like me, missed the opportunity?

As we look at our culture, and at the world in general, we may wonder with a lesser or greater degree of anguish, why it is as it is. Why are we so unkind to each other? Why do we commit, and permit, atrocities? Why are Ukrainian children being bombed in hospitals? Why are families losing access to healthcare they desperately need? Why do we let adults die on the street, and children starve?

Humanity has long grappled with this question. The Judeo-Christian tradition speaks of a fall—we exercised our free will and left paradise, and now we live east of Eden, working the soil by the sweat of our brow. Buddhist teaching places us on the wheel of samsara, cycling through realms of existence according to our karma, driven by craving and aversion until we awaken. The ancient Greeks told of Prometheus bringing fire to humans—consciousness, agency, the capacity to create—and of Pandora’s jar releasing suffering into the world, leaving us only hope.

I’d like to offer another explanation, one I hold half playfully: the world is like this because Earth is a planet for slow learners.

Imagine that throughout all of creation, beings are assigned to Earth because we are very slow to learn from the consequences of our acts, slow to learn to make wise choices. So we are sequestered here to hone ourselves on each other and to gradually figure out how to live with love and kindness. Earth is the remedial planet. Some have even suggested that Earth actually is one of the hell realms—though if so, I mean this not to minimize our suffering but to dignify our struggle. We are doing hard work in a hard place.

If this framing holds any truth—if we find ourselves enrolled in Earth’s slow curriculum—then the question shifts from “why is it like this?” to “how do we participate?”

Two things come to mind.

First, we continue our exploration of living Love in Action, saying yes and yes and yes again to Love walking on Earth through us. Our sangha, our mutual support, and the One Heart Practice help. Where better to love and serve than in the remedial classroom? Where more needed than in hell?

Second, we can learn from our mistakes—really learn, not just regret. I recall two helpful sayings:

Fall down seven times, stand up eight.

A fool makes the same mistake 10,000 times and never learns. A wise person learns after making the same mistake 5,000 times.

I take comfort in that second one. The bar for wisdom isn’t perfection; it’s a 50% improvement in our learning rate. That feels achievable.

I’ll share one of my own slow learnings: I keep discovering, again and again, that my energy and capacity are more limited than my intentions. I say yes to things I care about, then find myself depleted and less present than I wanted to be. The lesson—I made considerable progress on this in 2025—is that love sometimes looks like a well-considered no or withdrawal.

In the past year or so, have you made mistakes in self-care? In relationships? In your work? What did you learn, particularly from mistakes? What mistake did you make more than once before something finally shifted?

We’ve talked before about Earth being a planet for slow learners. Across the entire vast universe, the slow learners are sent here. That would explain a lot about our choices, society, politics, and social priorities. And I’m on this planet for slow learners for good reason, it seems.

If we accept this humbling premise—and I offer it with a smile—then the question becomes: how do we learn? What are our teachers, and how do we recognize them?

The obvious answer is that we learn from good examples. We study with wise teachers. We read sacred texts. We observe people whose lives embody the qualities we wish to cultivate. We might think of such teachers as compasses that reliably point North—toward truth, compassion, humility, and love. The Dalai Lama is such a teacher. So was Mother Teresa. So was my own beloved guru, Paramahamsa Hariharananda. When we’re uncertain which way to walk, we can orient ourselves by their example and their teachings.

But here’s something I’ve been sitting with lately: we can also learn from teachers who reliably point South.

A Friend’s Father

A friend once told me about his father, who was a heavy smoker and an alcoholic. These habits led to his painful and premature death. My friend watched this unfold over years—the deterioration, the suffering, the grief it caused the family.

Some children in such circumstances follow in their parents’ footsteps. They inherit not just genes but patterns, reaching for the same substances that destroyed the person they loved. This is understandable. We are shaped by what we know.

But my friend had the good fortune to learn a different lesson. He looked at his father’s suffering and thought: I will not do this. I will walk the other way. His father’s life became a teaching—not of what to do, but of what to avoid. The compass pointed South, but my friend walked North.

This reframes something we might otherwise see only as tragedy. The father’s struggles, while causing real harm, also generated wisdom in the next generation. This doesn’t romanticize addiction or excuse its consequences. It simply acknowledges that even painful examples can teach us, if we’re willing to learn.

The Trap of Hatred

Before I go further, I need to name something important. When we encounter people whose behavior is harmful—whether in our families or on the public stage—we face a spiritual danger: we can become what we oppose if we oppose it with hatred.

We’ve discussed this before in our sangha. In Love in Action, reflecting on activists who are driven by anger and fear, I wrote:

“I myself have been like that. I don’t know how effective we really are when we’re coming from that place. We’re running on a corrosive fuel that doesn’t feed us and that in fact eats away at us and those around us.”

This is the trap. We see cruelty, and we respond with contempt. We see dishonesty, and we respond with self-righteous rage. We see hatred, and we hate the hater. In doing so, we lose our way. We think we’re walking North, but we’ve actually turned around.

So when I speak of learning from teachers who point South, I’m not inviting us into judgment, scorn, or despair. I’m inviting us into discernment—the clear-eyed recognition of what diminishes life, paired with a deliberate turn toward what enhances it.

This is not easy. Several of you have shared with me your struggles with anger and despair when you witness cruelty, dishonesty, and abuse of power. These feelings are natural and human. The practice is not to suppress them, but to notice them, acknowledge them, and then—with great intention—to choose a different response.

Daily Teachings from the Media

We are saturated daily with examples of walking South. Turn on the news, scroll through social media, and you will encounter examples of:

• Habitual lying—the casual, constant disregard for truth
• Cruelty toward the vulnerable—mocking those who are disabled, grieving, or powerless
• Greed elevated as virtue—the worship of wealth and the disdain for those without it
• Racism and bigotry—the dehumanization of people based on their origins or identity
• Sexism and abuse—the treatment of women as objects to be used and discarded
• Cowardice disguised as strength—bullying wrapped in military bluster
• Corruption presented as cleverness—cheating as a mark of intelligence
• Revenge and spite—the refusal to forgive, the nurturing of grudges
• Division and hatred—the deliberate inflaming of conflict for personal gain
• Arrogance and self-aggrandizement—the inability to admit error or share credit

You know what I’m describing. You see it daily. It is, as one writer put it, “arrogance dressed up as exceptionalism, stupidity passed off as common sense, cruelty sold as toughness.”

It would be easy to despair. It would be easy to rage. It would be understandable to turn away entirely, to retreat into numbness or distraction.

But there is another option: we can treat this as spiritual curriculum.

The Silver Lining

Here is the silver lining that I want to offer you: a compass that points South also points North. You simply walk the other way.

Every lie we witness is an invitation to recommit ourselves to truth.

Every act of cruelty is a reminder to practice compassion.

Every display of greed calls us back to generosity and simplicity.

Every expression of bigotry strengthens our resolve to see the divine in every person.

Every abuse of power renews our commitment to servant leadership.

Every act of revenge reminds us of the freedom that comes from forgiveness.

Every attempt to divide us deepens our practice of seeking understanding across difference.

The teacher who points South is still a teacher. The lesson is simply inverted. We don’t follow; we turn. We don’t emulate; we embody the opposite.

This is not passive. It requires us to actively choose who we want to be in each moment. It requires us to notice our own tendencies toward the very behaviors we deplore in others. It requires honesty about the South-pointing impulses in our own hearts.

The Prayer of St. Francis

This practice has deep roots in our tradition. In Love in Action, I wrote about working with the Prayer of St. Francis:

“The second way to work with the prayer of St. Francis is to use the stanzas literally. For instance, when we notice hatred in ourselves, the antidote is to feel love. It’s a matter of catching ourselves in a thought or feeling, and counteracting that with the opposite.

So if we feel hatred for someone who harmed us, we might be able to find some love for that person as we think of the good things they have done for us or for others, and how they have been injured themselves and act in a hateful way because of that.

This doesn’t mean condoning someone’s harmful behavior, including our own. The point is to find a way to escape the trap of hatred, doubt, despair, darkness, or sadness. We can counteract this suffering by intentionally evoking the opposite feelings.”

And further:

“The third way to work with the prayer of St. Francis is to apply the stanzas when we notice negative thoughts and actions in others. As an example, if someone is full of despair, it might be possible for us to support him or her in finding hope.

I’m not suggesting a mindlessly Pollyanna approach, nor swooping in for a quick fix when someone’s life has been shattered. Rather, genuinely listening to a person in despair is in itself healing and provides hope, for it demonstrates that they are not alone, and that someone cares about them.

To people in pain, we can be the tangible expression of the positive qualities mentioned in the prayer of St. Francis: love, faith, hope, light and joy. Offering ourselves in this way gradually transforms us more and more into the living expression of love.”

The prayer itself offers us the map:

Where there is hatred, let me sow love.

Where there is injury, pardon.

Where there is doubt, faith.

Where there is despair, hope.

Where there is darkness, light.

Where there is sadness, joy.

When we encounter hatred in the world—and we encounter it daily now—we have the opportunity to sow love. When we see injury inflicted on the vulnerable, we can practice pardon (while still seeking justice). When doubt and cynicism saturate our media, we can cultivate faith. When despair tempts us, we can choose hope. When darkness seems overwhelming, we can be light. When sadness pervades, we can offer joy.

Practical Application

So how do we do this practically, day by day?

First, limit your media exposure wisely. You don’t need to marinate in South-pointing examples all day. Get the information you need to be an informed citizen, then step away. Protect your peace.

Second, when you do encounter harmful examples, pause. Notice your reaction. Where do you feel it in your body? Anger in the chest? Despair in the belly? Fear in the throat? Acknowledge what arises without judgment.

Third, consciously choose the opposite. If you’ve witnessed cruelty, do something kind—even something small. If you’ve encountered lies, speak a truth. If you’ve seen greed, practice generosity. Make the teaching concrete through action.

Fourth, examine yourself. The behaviors we most despise in others often have some foothold in our own hearts. When I see arrogance on display, I might ask: where am I arrogant? When I see someone refusing to admit error, I might reflect: where am I defensive? This is uncomfortable but essential work.

Fifth, return to practice. Meditation, the One Heart practice, the gestures we’ve learned—these restore us to our center. They remind us who we are beneath our reactions.

Sixth, lean on community. We need each other. When despair or rage threatens to overwhelm, reach out. Let yourself be held. This is what sangha is for.

The Compass in Your Pocket

I want to leave you with this image: you carry a compass in your pocket at all times. That compass is your awareness, your discernment, your capacity to notice which way is North.

Some teachers help us by pointing North directly. We are blessed when we encounter them.

Other teachers help us by pointing South so reliably that we can orient ourselves by their negative example. We can be grateful for them too—not for the harm they cause, but for the clarity they provide.

The friend’s alcoholic father. The figures who saturate our daily news. The petty tyrant at work. The internet troll. The family member whose behavior baffles and hurts us. All teachers, if we’re willing to learn.

Gandhi said, “My life is my message.” He meant this as an aspiration toward integrity—that his actions would embody his teachings. But the same is true of everyone, including those whose message we must invert. Their lives are their messages too. We simply read them as warnings rather than instructions.

The choice is always ours: do we walk North, or do we walk South? It’s ok to make mistakes in our direction…and to learn from them.

For Reflection

As you sit with this, consider:

• Who have been your “South-pointing” teachers? What did their negative examples teach you about who you want to be?
• When you encounter harmful behavior in the media or in your life, what is your typical reaction? Anger? Despair? Numbness? Something else?
• Where do you notice the corrosive fuel of hatred or contempt operating in your own heart? What helps you release it?
• Can you think of a recent example where you witnessed “walking South” and consciously chose to walk North in response?
• How might you apply the Prayer of St. Francis practice this week when you encounter difficult examples in the news or in your relationships?

The world is full of teachers. May we have the wisdom to learn from all of them—those who show us the way, and those who show us what to avoid. May we walk North together, supporting each other when we stumble, celebrating when we find our way.

P.S. If this reflection sparks something in you, I’d welcome hearing about it at our next gathering. What have your South-pointing teachers taught you?

Vic shared this video with me and I thought you might like it.

I’m sharing Bishop Barber’s presentation because it moved me deeply. Here is a Black preacher speaking on behalf of a people who have known discrimination and abuse firsthand — who live daily with the threat of violence and the stripping of rights that so many of us are only now waking up to. He speaks with the power and moral authority that can only be forged through suffering.

Many of us in our sangha have never encountered Black preaching. I haven’t worshipped in a Black church myself, but I’m drawn to its style — the cadence, the conviction, the fire. You can hear echoes of it when President Obama speaks.

What I most want you to take away is this: we are not alone. There are powerful voices already aligned with our values — people who have faced hatred and violence and chose to walk straight into it anyway, guided by love. They are our teachers and our allies. There are millions of us. And together, we love forward.

A taste of the presentation itself: “We shall vote like never before. We shall stand like never before. We shall overcome.” Read the full transcript, or watch the video, at Substack.

I encourage you to read the questions below, and reflect on your own practice and experience. You might find opportunities to open yourself in ways that you have not yet.

Is there a time of day when you find the practice more useful? Any difference between morning and evening practice? Have you tried bookending your day with it, and if so, what do you notice?

When you settle into the practice, does mental chatter ever quiet? Does that change over time, or from day to day?

The practice moves from self-connection outward — to others, to the world. Where do you find that expansion easiest? Where does it snag? Is there someone or some group that’s hard to include, and what happens when you gently try?

For “Our Hearts” have you experimented with holding individuals in your Heart? Could be loved ones, could be unloved ones.

The practice also moves from the furthest extent of Reality back to your particular life. Are you able to experience the furthest extent? Does you particular life feel different from the practice

Have you found yourself adapting the practice — adding breathwork, bowing, sitting with one stage for awhile, doing it several times in a row? What draws you to those variations, and what do they open up for you?

What happens when you bring the practice into a genuinely hard moment — before something you’re dreading, in the middle of grief, when the news has gotten under your skin? Does it change what’s available to you?

When the world’s suffering feels overwhelming, does the practice give you a sense of being able to respond — even in a small way — rather than just absorbing the weight of it? What does that feel like?

Do you remember and use the shortcut of putting your hand to your sternum/heart to ground yourself?

Have you practiced alongside others — in the sangha, in a smaller group, with a friend? What’s different about that, if anything? Can you feel the relational field?

Have you shared One Heart practice with others?

Should I consider devoting resources to sharing One Heart more widely?

Be joyful though you have considered all the facts.

–Wendell Barry

When the world is on fire, be the rain.

–The Modern Taoist

When making a choice, consider the person you want to be.

– Anonymous