Is It Time for a God Break?

I've been struggling to keep my "God space" throughout the day. Every morning I meditate and pray. I often sense a deep inner stillness, an aliveness within me that transcends yet embraces all my problems, foibles and unanswered questions. By mid-morning, noon at the latest, I've lost most of it. It's vanished midst the detritus of unending tasks, interpersonal challenges, and E-distractions (email, Facebook, etc.) Where did God go? Where did I go?

At the conclusion of his book Resurrection Jesus: Embodying the Spirit of a Revolutionary Mystic, Adyashanti writes:

Ultimately, what allows us to embody the full measure of our life is a sense of stillness. One of the underlying, almost unspoken themes of the Jesus story is the stillness of eternity. It's Jesus in the desert, Jesus on top of the mountain. In such moments of aloneness, we give ourselves to that which is quiet within, to the deepest type of listening. True spiritual action in the world comes from a deep sense of inner stillness, rooted in that point around which the changing world revolves. And within the changing world is the spark of eternity - always free, always content, always the quiet and silent life-giver to our lives.

How can we possibly find inner stillness midst such a flurry of activity that is our lives? I think Jesus embodied the Way: take a break. Reconnect.

Even when thousands clamored for his attention, he would go off to pray for a bit up the mountainside. When those in authority demanded an immediate answer to a delicate situation, Jesus paused, bent down, and drew doodles in the dirt. Then, he stood up and gave an answer. (John 8)

So today, when I feel like a spun top that's losing balance, rather than plow through, I intend to pause and take a God-break.

When I become aware that I am no longer rooted and inwardly still, no longer in alignment with my Inner Compass...or when I face a particularly challenging situation...or even as a preventative measure throughout the day...I intend to pause and go even deeper into "God space".

The way to stretch "God space" is not to lengthen morning meditation time or detach from the world, but rather to disperse "God breaks" throughout the day. It's not magic nor wishful thinking but rather a decision to pause long enough to remember deep in my bones who and what I AM so that I can be busy and inwardly still simultaneously.

Coming Out of the Closet...Again

I have a confession to make. I've been seeing someone. It's been very intimate and private. Yes, my partner knows about it, and it's ok. Where does this happen and who is it? Early mornings in my studio I close my eyes, relax and let myself descend into a sanctuary I've created in my own imagination. In that sanctuary I sense that something other than my conscious mind takes over. There I have met with my grandparents, my parents, Buddha, Mary, and animal guides. But the most frequent visit is with Jesus Christ.

I know that for many of us spending time with Jesus sounds like a fundamentalist's relic, laden with toxic theology. But this is not the stale, suffocating, disconnected-from-real-life Jesus Christ of organized religion. It is a living, fresh encounter with a vibrant Christ. During and after these times together I feel liberated, whole, inspired, encouraged, grounded and washed over with love. I feel as if life is starting over with unlimited potential.

What do we do? Sometimes, we sit in a beautiful garden and admire nature. Sometimes we enter a chapel and soak in the luxurious silence. Sometimes we look out over the ocean and chat. Other times symbols or feelings or colors or other sacred figures appear, each with a message or healing gift. It's as if I'm meeting Jesus for the first time and discovering that he's exactly what I had hoped he would be: warm, welcoming, insightful, funny, mystical...someone who really gets me, meets me where I am and gently leads me to a more authentic expression of myself.

So, what is really happening? Is it all just my subconscious mind creating fantasies in a state of half-sleep? Am I actually on tuning in to the Spirit of Christ, whatever that means? I'm not sure, and I don't think it's relevant. I only know that I am experiencing Life as freer, truer, lighter and more trustworthy. A bit more compassion is flowing for others and for myself.  And it's a result of rekindling a relationship I had almost written off as irreconcilable with my sexuality, intellectual honesty and my affinity for other faith traditions.

I'm not sure what to call myself as I come out of the closet and claim that I regularly meet with Jesus. The only word that comes to mind is "grateful".

P.S. Please join us for classes this spring on Self-Hypnosis and Mindful Photography.

The Body Mantra

I've been noticing a number of bad equations circulating in my head. These formulas equate two things which are, in truth, not the same. But I often act and feel like these formulas are valid. Here are a few of my untrue equations:

Someone is disappointed = I've done something wrong.

Someone is pleased = I've done something right.

GLEE still = good television worth watching.

Everything got completed and was done correctly = I'm a good person.

Things did not go as planned = I screwed up.

The script of any Twilight movie = ...Wait a minute, they had scripts?!?

What untrue equations still operate in you? Often I don't even realize that I'm being run by one of these faulty formulas until I've made myself, and most likely those around me, miserable.

I have, however, found a reliable way to change my operating system so that I'm running on a truer equation that yields better results. In last week's post, I wrote about living from a place of "belovedness", from the sense that I am already and irrevocably loved, and I am eternally ok.

I'm discovering that the key to living from this belovedness is physical, not mental. I can't think my way into belovedness. Instead I rely on my body. When I have felt in my bones, down to my core, that I really am all right...in those moments I sensed a warm, vibrating, open peace. Rather than try to reason my way back there, I get still and focus on returning to that same felt sense. It's not so much the feeling that I'm going for, but the shift in perception because everything looks much different from a felt sense of "all is well".

It's much like meditating with a mantra. A mantra is a word or phrase chosen before meditation begins. When the chatty-Cathy mind inevitably starts to wander, focus returns to the mantra as a way to re-center. When I drift off into a Sea of Bad Equations, my body feels tense, closed, cold and agitated. By shifting my focus back to that space of "all is well" within me, I use my body as a mantra that resets my entire way of interacting with life. My body becomes the sacred path back to reality.

Those false equations still float around within me, but I don't have to be run by them anymore. My body tells me so.

P.S. If you'd like to practice creative ways of resetting your old equations, join us on Tuesday nights, starting April 16, for a weekly gathering called Tuesday Night Live.

Lord of the Dance

My prayer time and meditation practice has felt rather stale and empty lately. The emptiness I'm ok with because I want to be emptied of all my silly stories and ego patterns. Yet, even in this necessary spaciousness, I've sensed that something essential has been missing, though I could not put my finger on it. Well, they say that when the student is ready, the teacher arrives. My partner Herb recently gave me a lovely miniature bronze statue of Shiva Nataraja. Nataraja means "Lord of the Dance". This figure symbolizes the heart of both Hinduism and of our human experience.

The statue depicts the contradictions that define our lives. In Shiva's upper right hand is a drum that beats the sound from which the universe was born. In his upper left hand is fire, which destroys creation, reminding us of the constant cycle of birth and death, creation and destruction. The ring of fire represents everywhere that this dance occurs, which is the whole of the universe. And the statue sits on a lotus flower, symbolizing that the whole of the universe rests in the human heart or consciousness.

What Herb and I find most intriguing is the only moving part: Shiva's hair. The hair strands winging out to the side of his head look like a halo and are reminiscent of the Biblical character Samson, whose locks gave him great strength. The tradition is that Shiva's hair, usually wrapped up in a pyramid atop his head, starts to unravel and flails with reckless abandon as the dance becomes wild and ecstatic. He is fully embodied, sensuous, and on fire with life.

Oddly, Shiva's face is impassive. His expression represents that tranquil nothingness out of which all creation springs, reminding me of the emptiness I've been experiencing in meditation. It identifies neither with the joy of creation nor the pain of destruction, but rather holds it all with an accepting perspective. His gaze is eternity; his dance is the temporary, fully-engaged rhumba of the here and now.

I am realizing that this symbol speaks directly to my own spiritual path. I have focused so much on the gaze of eternity, that I've been missing the dance of life. Both are essential experiences. So, I'm starting to experiment. My morning devotional time still features quiet, but I'm also incorporating movement, vibrations of a singing bowl, images from my dreams that lead to inner dialogs, St. Francis' prayer spoken aloud while standing, and the warming beams of the sun's early rays. The silence and the sensuous are starting to spill over into the rest of my day, enabling me to experience that tango between the infinite and the finite.

While I don't have any hair to fling wildly in ecstatic dance, I am sensing the drumbeat of the universe in my own heart...and in my spontaneously tapping toe.

When You Can't See the Forest for the Trees

This past weekend my partner and I went to Muir Woods National Monument in search of Coho salmon, which are starting to work their way from the ocean into fresh water in order to spawn. Because of the heavy rains, the water was too muddy to see anything. While strolling through the skyscraping redwoods, I noticed an interesting phenomenon, "tree rain". While the skies were almost clear, the trees were so saturated with moisture that it felt like a steady rain was falling under the canopy. The unexpected precipitation was made all the more magical by the sun's radiant beams bursting through the dense foliage.

Sometimes it takes a broader view to see reality. When all that's visible is water descending from above, the obvious conclusion is that the storm still rages. A more panoramic view, however, reveals a truer picture in which sunny clarity beams above and at times through the drizzling darkness.

When all we sense is gloom and pain, a more expansive container for our experience is available. Whether we call that our Inner Wisdom, the Web of Life, God, or Higher Power, the invitation is to take a step or two back, look up and around and within.  Yes, we are getting wet and it's unpleasant, and there is also more going on that gives context and hope for our dampened spirit.

Brother David Steindl-Rast said that hope is the willingness to be surprised. In the midst of your obvious difficulty, is something surprising also starting to shine through? How can you get enough distance to be able to see it?

Spirituality is just a pious term for the intentional practice of welcoming surprise. It is letting go of our allegiance to what we think is going on until what is currently beyond our field of vision becomes visible. That view usually comes as a surprise, a gift, but the preceding willingness to release our narrow viewpoint is a choice. To have hope and notice life-giving Spirit everywhere is not a miracle reserved for saints or the lucky. It flows from the intention to open the aperture of the soul from narrow to panoramic.

What is God? And Four Other Unanswerable Questions

Last week I went on a retreat to the New Camaldoli Heritage, which overlooks the Pacific Ocean and the heart-melting grandeur of the Big Sur coastline. In those days of quiet, I meditated on five questions. Below, for your consideration, are those questions and the responses (as opposed to "the answers") that came to me in prayer and meditation while in that glorious location. What is God? The very name is an inadequate misnomer for the Source from which all has come and which infuses every quark to galaxy cluster with an unfolding consciousness. That consciousness, "Is-ness", Ground of Being, Source beyond all naming, is what we call God because we don't know what else to call it. Even when Moses encounters the Holy in the burning bush and asks for the divine name, all Moses gets is an enigmatic wordplay (or smart ass response): "I AM THAT I AM". You can't shrink wrap the Source of All into a nicely wrapped concept, name, doctrine, or even a personality. Source is more than a person, more than a Presence, more than an Intelligence, yet is all that...and more.

What am I? I am a fractal of the Source from which everything springs. The stars in their incomprehensible vastness of eons and expanse down to the smallest subatomic particles and every possible permutation and parallel reality, all of it is of a Mind, a Christ Consciousness, an Unfolding Expression of a Reality beyond personality, beyond what we can understand but yet refer to as "God". I am of that mysterious stuff, and yet it is more than I am. I came from it, and I return to it, and I am never separate from it, and can never be other than it.

What is my purpose? To live what I am. To have the embodied, full-bore experience of myself in this skin with one eye on the experience of being alive from this perspective in my own individual skin, and the other eye on my Source that connects me to all other life. As a human, I have this glorious privilege of being "double-aware". My purpose includes living as my own unique reflection of that Essence, reflecting upon it, revering it in everything and everyone I encounter, surrendering to it, communing with it, and consciously aligning with it.

Why bother with spirituality (with being aware of this Source)?

• First of all, it’s in my DNA. Consciousness unfolds in increasing complexity, diversity and self-awareness. That's its nature, and I reflect that. To live this life authentically I align with this evolving Conscious that compels me forward, inward, and outward.
• Secondly, it’s more fun, interesting and sustainable than simply living an animalistic, ego-driven existence. The self-generated suffering dissipates when I let go of my separatist, egoist illusions of self-absorbed, needy, anxiety-prone myopia. I find all I externally strove for has already been given within. Operating from gratefulness (great fullness), I discover that my existence flows with greater lightness, joy, clarity, equanimity, compassion, hope, openness, confidence, courage, self-celebration, integrity, and cosmic humor. In other words, when I live from that space of “all is well” within me, nothing around me has the unfair expectation of making me well inside.
• Thirdly, the world needs it. Our self-destructive, consumption culture is a symptom of a lack of interiority, a lack of aligning inside with our own innate wholeness. Without a deep connection to something greater than our own egos, we need, consume and abuse everyone and everything to feel safe, approved, and in control, not realizing that what we do unto others inevitably affect us all. "Sin" is one name for this illusion of separation. Redemption is awakening to Source and then living that wholeness from the inside out in communion with Nature, in peace with each other, and as willing, conscious participants in the unfolding story. Less at war within ourselves, we war less with everyone and everything else.

What happens when we die? We return to Source, the same Source from which we came and which animated our every breath. Perhaps Source assimilates our experience and embodied learning and that energy goes into a new cycle of living, furthering Christ/Cosmic conscious and evolution.

Those were my reflections on those five unanswerable questions. What's bubbling up from your heart and mind?

P.S. Please join us for the new series of day retreats I'll be leading this fall, and/or spread the word to those you think might be interested. Details are on the Classes page.

Lose Your Mind and Come to Your Senses

When you see the word "freedom", what comes to mind? Weekends? The Fourth of July? Never hearing a Michael Bolton song again? Freedom always has at least two aspects. We get free from something: old habits, an overbearing boss, pain, or a lousy cell phone contract. We also get free to do or be something: be happy, start a new business, or speak the truth fully.  Unless we channel our "freedom from" into a "freedom to become or do", our freedom is likely to be short-lived, either because our new found energy is taken captive by another draining situation or because we squander it on self-absorbed gratification, which becomes its own prison.

How do we get free and stay free? A good place to start is to take the advice of Fritz Perls, the founder of Gestalt Therapy:  "Lose your mind and come to your senses."  The controlling, critical aspect of the mind keeps us trapped in old patterns that rarely serve anyone, yet we continue to justify the status quo with any number of irrational rationalizations. What's needed is a trip back into our senses, our subconscious, our deep spirit, our inner light and our deep joy.

Whether we do this through nature, meditation, prayer, creating art, singing, yoga, or playing with dogs, the form is not as important as the benefit, which is liberation from our habitual thought patterns. When the old mental chatter simmers down, clarity emerges in which we see things as they really are and respond appropriately with grace and ease. We become fully alive.  Our hearts and minds open.  We freely give back all that we are, all that we have, and all that we do to Life, to God, to the common and highest good of all. We finally come to our senses.

Coming to our senses is more likely, fun, and enduring when we collaborate with others who share a common intention, supportive energy and wise feedback. If you would like to take a deeper dive into freedom, come join us for a series of day retreats this fall. The theme of the three retreat days is "Path to Freedom: Using Challenges to Revitalize Your Life". For more information, check out the page on Classes.

How Many Light Bulbs Does It Take to Change a Person?

This week I unleash my "Inner Geek" with a Star Trek reference. In an episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation, Captain Picard is interrogated by a sadistic captor, Gul Madred. Day after day, Madred tells Captain Picard to look at an overhead lamp with four light bulbs. He asks Picard, "How many lights do you see?" When Captain Picard responds with the correct number, he is tortured and starved. Madred wants Captain Picard to claim that he sees five lights, when, in fact, there are only four. Shortly after he is rescued, Captain Picard confesses to his ship's counselor that toward the end of his captivity he believed he could see five lights. Self-delusion is a common occurrence, particularly when we are under duress. It's easy to see it in others. The homophobic preacher battling his own repressed sexual orientation. The "peace" activist who is angry and belligerent.

Of course, by definition, we tend not to see our own self-delusions. We may see ourselves as basically kind, generous, virtuous, open-minded or sophisticated. We tend not to see, however, the times in which we are or have the capacity to be mean-spirited, greedy, promiscuous, judgmental or a total geek.

Self-delusions can be a gift.  In a crisis, we only see the part of reality we can actually process. In our formative years, the emerging ego creates a partially-true identity that helps us navigate the tricky social structures in which we live. However, to be mature and whole and avoid self-sabotage, these delusions must eventually give way to a more accurate perspective.

When I was in Japan, I went to verdant Mount Koya-san. Accessed only by funicular, over 100 Buddhist temples populate its slopes. At the temple where I spent the night, guests are invited each morning to join the monks for a fire ceremony.  All of the monks except one sit together on the right side of a screen that divides the temple in half. They play drums and chant while surrounded by massive urns that house their sect's sacred scrolls. On the other side of the partition sits one monk stoking a large fire. The fire symbolizes the goal of the chanting meditation, which is not only to burn away our self-delusions, but also to illuminate them when they return throughout the day so that we can make more conscious choices that are appropriate for the moment.

Besides meditation, methods of burning away and illuminating self-delusions include:

• Ask a partner or trusted friend for honest feedback without defending yourself
• Pause for self-reflection once in a while when you sense an unseemly urge, thought or feeling emerge within you
• Journal about what you consider to be unbearable in other people and then get real about the ways in which you behave (or are trying with every fiber of your being not to behave) in a similar way
• Lighten up. These self-delusions are part of the human coping system and are not unique to you. When from a place of objectivity you see them for what they are, there's no need to take them personally or too seriously. You might even laugh at yourself...and everyone else.

What have you found helpful in illuminating your self-delusions? Please share your ideas in the comments section below.

Illuminating our self-delusions takes courage to boldly go within in order to become more present, clear and real in our daily lives. Every time we see through a delusion, we have an "aha" experience as a light bulb goes on. How many such light bulbs does it take to change a person? Who knows? Wisdom is less about changing and more about accepting the fullness of who we are, as we are, and then choosing to act from our brighter nature.  I can think of at least five Star Trek references I could use to make this point crystal clear, but I am choosing not to unfurl my Inner Geek again...for the moment.