Breath

The breath doesn’t disappear when you stop breathing at the end of your life. It is the source of your breathing, and it continues, just as your spirit continues. Indeed, breath and spirit are one and the same (identical word in some languages). This is a wisdom we come to as we pass from this world to the next. The Spirit that brought you life as you know it here on Earth, through your breath, is never-ending.

If you are fortunate, you may come to this awareness within your lifetime. Sudden jolts to your habitual way of perceiving the world can awaken this cognitive/emotional expansion. Crises or change, as well as deep spiritual practices, frequently have a transformative effect on your view of yourself and all of life. What seemed solid and unchanging suddenly becomes fluid and ever-shifting. You begin to realize that the “unknown,” that which we haven’t yet solidified into facts, is perhaps your greatest source of expansive wisdom.

Birth and death bookend our physical lives, but eventually we see them as illusions that we invented to explain what appears to be a beginning and ending. In truth, we are part of an infinite continuity of being, the eternal Spirit that fills the universe and our physical forms with awareness. A profound soul awareness that expands with each breath we take, each experience we live. The entire universe is within you, as you are within it. Sounds contradictory but only when your mind organizes the world into inner/outer, beginning/ending. From the soul’s view, everything is one, without polarity or edges.

Some religious traditions see eternity as a heavenly after-life in which we are reunited with our loved ones who have already passed into a world similar to the one we live in here—but where peace prevails. We often picture gods and goddesses who inhabit that world, there to comfort and guide us. Yet perhaps it is we who are the gods and goddesses living on Earth in human form and there is no after-life, only the eternal Now. Divinity is everywhere.

The human mind longs to find truth, to define life and death, so that we can keep fear at bay. Fear, however, is a product of the mind and of the need to know. Peace arises from the heart and soul, from a profound acceptance and understanding that is beyond questions, answers, and definitions. I find that when I become lost in fear of the unknown and the vastness of infinity, it is because my mind is frantically spinning its wheels. If I breathe deeply and allow a deeper awareness beyond the mental to arise within me, I settle into the “peace that passes understanding.” This is the eternal breath. The journey of my lifetime, of all of our lifetimes, is to recognize that peaceful presence as Home and one another as soul family. In doing so, we experience eternity with every sweet breath in each present moment.

Softening with the Years

I hope to soften as the years go by: my voice, my thoughts, my footsteps. My heart. More love, kindness, and gratitude; less worry, fear, judgment. More listening, less talking. Of course, I am already in the age bracket people refer to as “older.” Older than what or whom, I’m not sure. At any rate, I do feel softer now in my approach to life. Years of spiritual seeking and practice have laid the foundation for that. I stopped hanging on so tightly to my carefully crafted version of reality. I opted for meditation and inner peace over angry political disagreements and the need to be right. Of course, I am not always successful, but all in all, I am less attached to my reality as the ultimate Truth.

There are so many “truths” in this world. If we could only see them as ever-shifting variations on a theme instead of finalities that need to challenge one another. Every person we meet has a different perspective, a different voice. A different inner story. If we listen carefully, beneath the words, we can hear it. And that becomes one of the dearest gifts in life, hearing another’s life story. Because it takes softness, a receptive, tender heart, to hear what another carries within their heart. Often it is in being vulnerable ourselves that we find that others can be vulnerable with us. An experience shared opens the door to another’s sharing, which then unites us as one heart, beyond all stories.

All this comes with softening, realizing that we each are travelers in this life, finding our way step by step. As we age, our steps are sometimes slower, which is the perfect opportunity to see and hear more of the world around us. I’ve taken walks all my life: on city streets as I ran errands, in nature habitats as I watched birds and animals, in my own neighborhood as I appreciated others’ yards and gardens. Sometimes I walked fast to reach a destination or complete a task; other times I walked slower, or stopped entirely, to watch a butterfly or bumble bee or listen to a bird singing. Now I walk slowly most of the time because I find contemplative walking more fulfilling than rushing quickly without really seeing the beauty around me. It is a softer approach to life, available to us at any age, but perhaps life gives us more opportunities to receive this wisdom as we grow older.

I know that many people hate the idea of aging and fear the loss of their self-image and physical/mental abilities. Perhaps we could let go of some of our anxieties and trepidation if we saw each year as an open door leading to new experiences and ways of being in the world, possibly more expansive than anything we have ever known. No one can predict how their life will unfold or how long it will last, but we can appreciate each day we are given. I find that the more I soften the need to know what comes next, the more I can accept and love the present moment before me. I also have discovered that the softening of the passing years is a gift in itself, one filled with unexpected wisdom and the kindness of friends and strangers alike. 

Peace of Mind, Now

How do we find peace in troubled times? It can often feel impossible. Yet the soul is always at peace. The mind, on the other hand, can easily slip into recycling opinions about, or conflicts with, others or the world at large. Previous judgments or disagreements have laid down tracks in the mind, which facilitate high-speed train-of-thought trips if triggered by something from the outside. Perhaps a passing comment or behavior, the news, a memory. However it begins, the mental editorial debate continues and repeats in an almost unstoppable manner, unless we consciously intervene.

The nature of the mind tends toward problem-solving in which any perceived conflict is something that needs to be resolved by logical discourse. So the mind repeats and repeats potential responses meant to convince, change, or solve. At times, my mind-train travels down those tracks. A stranger’s seeming unkindness or a news item about some political discord can springboard my mind into action. I find myself in the midst of an imagined argument, trying to convince a nebulous or specific “other” of the necessity for (choose any or all) compassion, environmental protection, human rights, the end of guns and war, etc. The very idea of trying to convince others of the need for compassion seems fruitless and somewhat ridiculous if I pause for a moment. Actually, it all seems completely unnecessary in that paused moment. The Pause is key. As is repeating the Pause, one breath at a time, until the train is derailed.

How to do that? How to remember to invite the soul to take over instead, to bring peace to the mind’s agitation? It takes repetition and intention. And conscious interrupters, like walking outdoors, birdsong, music, yoga…whatever centers you in your heart (gateway to the soul) instead of the mind. The mind is useful for daily functioning in the material world, but it can get out of control, and it needs calming on a regular basis. Meditation serves that purpose as do quiet walks in Nature. Anything that silences the mind’s chatter and repetition of old recordings.

And the alternative to internal or external debate? Living the peace and compassion instead of arguing about it. When the mind is at peace, it is not moved to engage in disagreement, dissension, or judgment. A mind at peace is aligned with the soul, and the soul sees oneness not separation. In these turbulent times, we need every ounce of peace available—and it is always available when you remember to Pause.  In that moment, look up at the trees, the stars, the infinite universe around you—therein lies a soul peace that is beyond the mind’s understanding but will fill your heart and the hearts of all those you share it with.

No Where

If you walk or sit in silence long enough, you blend with everything. You are no longer separate from the world around you, gazing outward, because there is no out or in. The mind stops grasping and relaxes into blankness. You are no where—because where ceases to exist. This is infinity. Some call it Presence or universal consciousness. It is pure awareness without parameters or definitions. Just being.

I sometimes find myself there when I am walking in Nature or deep in meditation (and once as I was coming out of surgery). But even there is a misnomer because how can there exist in no where? I assure you I am not trying to trick you with word games. I am attempting to move beyond words to the silence of the soul. Of course, you can’t really find your way to silence with language. To describe the process of becoming completely silent seems almost contradictory.

Yet perhaps it is not entirely impossible to offer directional metaphors, as the poet Rumi did in all his work. Recently, a friend commented that the deep meditational experience of infinity was akin to being in the field Rumi describes, which is “out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing,” judging. Remembering the words of that poem immediately opened the door of Presence even further for me. A field that is empty of everything but shared spirit.

That is exactly how I felt within the depths of the profound silence of no where. Separation completely fell away. No opinions, no judgments of others, just awareness without any definitions or language to infringe on the vision of the soul, pure and true. Perhaps this is the purpose of all life: to reach that experience of being completely immersed in the silence of the soul. Because within it there is no longer inner or outer conflict, only peace.

We humans often talk of peace on Earth and aspire to it. Yet it seems to drift further and further away. Maybe that distance is an illusion, and in truth we are moving closer to it whenever we reverse our gaze from outward to inward. Because that is where peace lies, undisturbed and eternal. Our inner vision can direct us every day to living in a peace that radiates outward to all those we meet. In spite of the conflicts of the times we are now living through, more and more people are being catapulted inward by outer discord.

Our souls are guiding us in this direction, to seek the harmony and oneness that lives at the center of all creation. The no where within the where. Perhaps we came to Earth for this very reason. To experience the extremes of separation and then stand in the field of infinity, recognizing all that we see as one heart, one spirit. Humanity and divinity as one. Home at last.

Waiting…

We humans spend so much of our lives waiting: for the bus or train, in traffic, in the dentist’s office, in the checkout line, for vacation. Waiting to be 21 and then waiting for retirement. In a blink of an eye, our entire lives have passed in waiting for the next event or experience. Often we miss the moment we are living through because our minds are preoccupied with looking to the future. Yet the future doesn’t really exist; it is always running ahead of us, tempting us to forget where we are now.

The wisdom handed down from spiritual teachers like Ram Dass is to “Be here now.” Because now is all we have. The fantasy of the future and the memory of the past are mental distractions, which often keep us stuck in dissatisfaction. If we can learn to focus on each moment, appreciation and peace of mind arise and help us relax into being instead of aspiring.

I was thinking of this recently when Anne and I stayed at Kripalu Yoga Center in Lenox, Massachusetts, for a few days. Daily life there is very simple: yoga, meditation, meals, walking in Nature, resting or reading. No TV or video; cell phones restricted to use in one room only. Breakfast is silent; quiet, contemplative presence is encouraged. Coming from the external world of noise and activity, Kripalu visitors may discover that it takes consciously letting go to become aligned with a state of being that is actually quite natural to all of us.

At home, I meditate and do yoga every day as well as walk quietly in Nature, so this was not new. However, at Kripalu, I found myself facing my habits of checking emails and going online for one reason or another. Daily routines of busyness. Without them, I realized I was “waiting” for the next meal or yoga session, feeling a bit lost. Even though I have been to Kripalu and other retreat centers many times, this awareness of my own “waiting” mindset was a real teaching for me.

The energy of the external world can catch us up in its fast pace at an unconscious level. We think it is normal. Empty space and time can feel odd. And yet they are completely natural, and it is why I and so many people go to places like Kripalu. To live fully in each moment without looking behind or ahead. So, I sat with that awareness. Within it, I remembered that I could easily bring myself back to the moment, wherever I am, by focusing on some detail in my environment: a tree, a cloud, a person, a pattern of light on the wall, birdsong. Or my own breathing, which is the Presence focus in so many traditions. The breath is only ever in the now. When I step into that soul space of pure being, I stop waiting.

So, the best part of my visit to Kripalu was reawakened awareness of living fully in the present moment without waiting for the next one. It’s a practice, an ongoing reminder of how rich each second of our lives is. No need to “wait for it,” It’s all here, right now.