http://dyingpractice.blogspot.com/

This is someone else who is currently doing the Year to Live practice; a monk, actually. I sent him off an email this morning thanking him for chronicling his experience. He is much further along than I am (in a lot of ways), but it's oddly comforting to know that even someone whose life revolves around spiritual practice has some of the same struggles I do. Mabye it makes me feel a little more enlightened. :)

If you're interested in learning more about the practice I'm doing, check it out. It's very, very well written and clearly explains the author's experience.

So I am more or less one month in.

It's been a very informative month. Everything is a little clearer to me now. I see the value in so much---especially the small things. I've always been able to really enjoy a beautiful winter day for instance--but now there are times when the simplest thing can actually move me to tears. Well, almost. I get a little veklempt, if you will. but there is no sadness, just a sense of being totally connected in that single moment--a feeling of complete prescence and total awareness and acceptance.

I feel like there is no barrier--or less of a barrier--between myself and the world. As if the roadblocks and walls I've built over the years are crumbling as I focus more and more on the soft-belly and metta meditation practices. This has been going on for a couple of years now, but in the last month it has intensified. The walls are breaking down faster now, and I don't care about shoring them up anymore. I don't care about being safe, secure, or cool.

All I care about is being free. Free from my conditioning. Free from the stress of trying to fulfill others' expectations. Free from the need to please others or be liked. Free from ego, from seperation. Most of all--freedom from fear.

While I was sitting the other night I had one of those sudden flashes of realization that happens during insight meditation (hence the name, I guess). I saw clearly how fear had dominated my life, from the time I was a child until the present day. How I lived in reaction to it, tried to control it, and tried to run from it.

Everything--except for the last few years--was completely fueled by fear. Fear of abandonement. Fear of being alone. Fear of being trapped in a relationship. Fear of not being in control. Fear of being IN control--and not being able to handle. Fear of not being good enough, smart enough, cool enough, tough enough, and so on.

I saw how much of what I do and say is done for all the wrong reaasons--to impress others, to paint an image of myself in their eyes, to be the center of attention. All of it done from fear, in one way or another.

I sat with the fear. We had become friends over the previous few months. Fear's not such a bad guy--er, thing, really. It just wants to show you where you need to pay attention very, very closely.

It's there to help, if you listen. But if you run away, turn your back on Fear, denying that it's there...well, then it gets pissed. He gets bigger. And stronger. And pretty soon that's all you can see--if you're lucky. If you never see Fear, you just bounce around life as it boxes you in more and more.

Fear feeds on itself. That's all it needs--a little resistance, a slight aversion to something we don't want to deal with...and it's there. And it will grow, consuming itself, consuming everything good in your life, and eventually, Fear will consume you.

The nice thing about Fear is that it's very persistent and has a loud, clear voice. It has to be that way, really, because in our society we are taught to run screaming from anything painful or unpleasant. Unfortunately, much of life can be either one--or both. And running from that reality, that pain and suffering and unpleasantness--is what creates Fear.

So I sit with Fear, and acknowledge it, and try to listen closely to what it wants me to learn. "Here" it says "right here. Feel this fear of losing, the need to win, to be the best. Why can't you try harder?"


"Or here. Remember this old hurt? What if it happens again? Maybe you should close off that piece of yourself. Don't risk it."

and of course the ever-present:

"What would X think?"

But even though Fear can show us what we need to work on, it only has one answer for all questions, and it's always the wrong one. It comes in different forms, but it's always the same message:

Contract. Hide. Withdraw. Don't take the chance. Be safe. Be smart. Do what you're supposed to do.

I am getting better at seeing the places in my life where I've allowed those to become the answers. Where I've accepted Fear's only solution, the one-trick pony of contraction.

I'm finding there are a lot of those places--but I'm not afraid of them anymore. After all, as part of this practice, I have the Big Fear to face--Fear of Death--and I need to face all the small ones first, for all sorts reasons. I need to face them to tie up loose ends--to finish any unfinished business. I need to free up my karma. I need to strengthen myself, so to speak, for the job of facing that fear of death--and the only way to do that is to face the smaller ones first, and work up to it.

And by facing those small fears, a funny thing happens; each time I do, I feel a little more free. A little clearer. A little less attached and a lot more aware.

Well, that's it for today; I do have work to do outside of this. So until tomorrow (or whenever)...

The Magic of Thinking Big

The Magic of Thinking Big is a book that has been floating around in my home office for a long time--probably a year or so.

It's one of those old-style positive thinking books, written in the 1959. The author, David Schwartz, was a professor and educational consultant for most of his life, and the book reflects 30+ years of experience as a "life coach" well before that term was coined.

My inital reaction to these books (Think and Grow Rich, etc.) is aversion. After all, aren't my eyes on a different, higher prize these days?

In the past, I was all about success. Making money. Being "that guy", with the $1000 suit, the $100 haircut, the $2000 watch, the expensive car, the condo, etc. I was addicted to it; the thrill of the deal, the large checks, the lifestyle. The ability to do whatever I wanted...even though I never did, because I was too busy working, so I could make more money. So I could...do what?

My original plan was to save up, live lean, and invest. Retire by 40 and live simply, free and clear and mostly off the grid. But somewhere along the line, that got lost.

It started simply. Hey, I'm in sales. I need some nice suits. I need to look the part.

Now, I need nice shoes. A watch, one that is understated but luxurious enough to say "I'm on your level, and I don't need to flash my money around." A nice car. Now I need money to maintain that car, to keep putting 93+ gas in it. Now I can't park that car at my apartment, I need a condo, one that says "I've arrived" but isn't too big for me.

And that's what was important to me. Sure, other things were too: my girlfriend (at the time...who left mostly because, you guessed it, I was always working), personal growth (as far as success went), and pretending everything was great.

Except that it wasn't.

Looking back, I wasn't such a stereotype. I wasn't a bad guy, in fact people always praised me for my integrity and willingness to work my ass off for a client. I figured--and still do--that if someone puts their trust in you, you owe it to them to do your best and go way above and beyond what anyone else will do. That attitude, more than anything, is what made me successful at such a young age. I honestly cared about people, and wanted them to be happy.

Except I couldn't let that go. I got tied up in their dramas, their conflicts, their fears and worries about buying or selling a home. I went home at night with my stomach tied up in knots and drank to loosen it. A lot. Most nights I would go home to a very sweet and caring woman, mostly ignore her, and break out my bottle of vodka and few beers. By a few, I mean 5-6. And I would do a shot, and drink a beer, and do it again and again until I passed out.

Ah, regrets. Although I knew she and I couldn't work in the long run, I still regret not giving her the attention she deserved. She is a great woman and is married now, hopefully happily. Her life hadn't been easy but she always pushed on and looked on the bright side of everything.

Wow, holy digression Batman.

Anyway, back to my original topic: The Magic of Thinking Big.

Despite what you may think initially, these older self-help books are fantastic tools for personal growth. I know many of us who are on a more "spiritual" path tend to discount material success; but these books aren't really about that. they also tend to be written by people who actually studied and/or taught psychology and worked with patients, often patients who were recovering from traumatic and life-changing accidents or illnesses.

Schwartz's book is only peripherally about success in terms of money, and I think that is largely due to the inital audience for these books: executives and salespeople, almost exclusively male and above the age of 30. Which, in modern terms, means 40+.

But the real message--and the practical exercises it gives you--reach alot further than just making more money or getting ahead in your company.

Really, it's about seeing your true potential clearly. Not in a "trust the universe" froofy sort of way (don't get me started), but in a real, practical way. It's about learning how to see yourself as you really are-- as someone with vast unrealized potential and power.

Sound a little to Tony Robbins for you? Yeah, that's my gut reaction, too. The whole Gen X cynicism thing.

But I'm tired of that. Do we need that cynical bullshit anymore? What purpose does it serve, other than to isolate from what's real and good? None. All it really does is keep us safe, secure in our "too cool for skool" world.

Fuck that. Look at our president. Can you honestly tell me you don't feel real, honest hope? That real change isn't here--change the we created?

So why shouldn't that hope be applied to our own lives? Why should it be kept private, silent, shut away for fear of ridicule from someone too shut down and scared to see their own inner beauty, infinite potential and untapped strength?

Thinking big in some things means thinking big in ALL things. Setting huge goals, ones that scare you a bit--the ones that require real commitment and honest self-inquiry. Running towards them full speed and being OK with falling flat on your face a few times. Taking the risks--whether it's starting that business (ok...think of it as a non-profit. Hippie), having that painful but necessary conversation, or opening your heart to someone who you thought you could never forgive.

Form a Buddhist perspective, it also means believing that you...yes, YOU, can attain freedom. Liberation. Enlightenment. That you are worthy of it and capable of it, and that's it's available to you right here, in this lifetime.

Scary stuff. And exciting.

Off to meditate...

Mistakes Were Made

So it's been almost a week since my last post.

Before I go on, I'd like to let my reader(s) know--that is, those of you who don't know me--that I lead an odd and irony-filled life.

Meaning irony pops up for me, over and over and over, often in hilarious ways. Usually not that hilarious at the time. The odd stuff that happens to me could fill a library, and is a subject for other posts. Suffice to say, I am pretty sure the way my karma is working itself out is proof of a higher power. One with a sense of humor. Sort of.

Usually the odd/ironic stuff is showing me exactly what I need to learn. Which is nice, especially since I find it tragically hilarious. Sometimes it's just so perfectly shitty you have to laugh.

To get a sense of what I'm talking about, watch a bunch of Ben Stiller flicks. The ones where you cringe because ridiculous things keep happening to him, over and over. Sure, it's funny. As long as it's not you.

Turn it down a notch and you have my life.

So anyway, last week was chock-full of drama. All of it related to the subject of my previous post regarding relationships. I'm not going to get into specifics, as I care very much about the person(s) involved...but it was upsetting, and exhausting, and intense.

It's not fun when someone you care for deeply is suffering and you can't give them what they're asking for. Especially now, when I am so wired into other people's suffering. It feels like my own.

That's one of the lingering effects of last year, amplified by my metta and vipassana practices. I am really aware of the pain others are in. I can see it in their eyes, their face, their posture, and the awareness--and the compassion that it creates--is so strong at times it's almost overwhelming.

Compassion. It's an interesting word. It literally means "to suffer with" . That your heart feels another's pain as your own. Of course, part of that awareness is that you don't want them to suffer anymore.

Anyway, the events of the last week were stressful, enlightening, and even great, in some ways. Not in a feel-good way so much as a "look at how much work you have left to do here" sort of way.

And I was thinking last week how super-awesome and sorta enlightened I am. How well my practice was going, how much more aware and open and alive I felt. How GOOD everything was. And then Life says "What? Are you fucking serious? Hey, here's a big pile of shit you fucked up. Have fun, Mr. Enlightenment!" and walks away laughing.

Hilarious. I hate that guy sometimes, but he's better than the alternative.

So due to the events of the last 6 days, I am now quite aware of many of my own conflicting fears and desires regarding relationships. More aware than I wanted to be, to tell you the truth. Awareness can suck. It can be too much to take in, and it makes me hesitate, too fearful of making a mistake. Eventually I know it will all settle in and I'll be OK with it, but right now it's a little much. It feels like I am a little out of sync with the rest of the world.

In some ways I feel good--I have come very, very far to a place of awareness and internal quiet. On the other hand, I realize I have a lot of work to do--especially with the first month of my last year almost gone.

Man, if I knew what I was getting into when I sat down on that meditation cushion for the first time...

Loose Ends, Fresh and Old

A big part of the Year to Live practice is tying up loose ends--i.e., making amends, forgiving those people you need to forgive (including yourself), finishing any unfinished business, and so on. Basically, the idea --at least as I understand it--is to clear up any negative karma or attachments so that when you "die" at the end of the year you can move on peacefully.

Ok, sounds simple, right?

I thought so. Until it dawned on me that the other side of tying up loose ends is not creating any new ones. Not causing harm (physical or emotional) is the most obvious form of that, and something I work with every day.

Yes, really. Stop laughing. You know who you are.

Now let's stop right there for now and address somethign:

It's been brought to my attention that I have caused quite a bit of emotional harm to people in the past. Particularly in relationships. While in some cases I have sought out the person I hurt and made amends and/or asked for forgiveness, in other cases I have studiously avoided writing a letter or even sending an email to the person in question--let alone actually...you know...talking to them.

I have come to realize how much of my life has been lived for me. Not in a positive way, either, but a "fuck them--my life sucks, so I deserve this" sort of way--especially when I was younger. For the most part that is gone, although I still find myself operating from a place of carelessness. I try very hard to be aware and to avoid creating false expectations--but it still happens, and people still get hurt. So how do I avoid that, short of becoming a monk?

Now, though, I find myself wanting to...you know...like be nicer to people and stuff. And for the most part, I am. Metta practice has really broken down the walls between my ego and other people. It's very rare these days that I find myself trapped in my head in a "me vs. the world" dynamic. Sure, the old reactions are still there. But like I wrote yesterday, there is a bit of a gap. A stop before the action, a little bit of awareness and space.

On top of not causing harm, though, there's the question of not creating unfinished business. Being recently single again after a 4 year relationship, I've started dating again--really just in the last few weeks. And it's been really great. I'm not out there looking for "the one", just looking to meet women who may be great friends, fun dates, or...maybe something more.

And the "something more" is what gets me. What if I DO meet someone who I'm interested in pursuing a relationship with? How do I approach that? Do I want to do that at all? And besides all that...how do I avoid causing anyone any emotional harm?

That's some pretty heavy unfinished business. It almost...almost...makes me want to scrap the whole thing and go back to being celibate (yes, I was celibate for couple of months after the break-up...yes, it was intentional. And interesting. But that's another post.). BUT...isn't that denying life, really? Wouldn't that just be running from the really important work?

I think so. But I also think I need to tread carefully, and with real awareness--but without expectations or "rules" about what may or may not happen or develop. I know my spiritual development is my prime concern right now, but really...that encompasses everything in my life, including (especially so) relationships of all kinds.

Hm. That sounds like a lot...lol. Have I bit off too much, I wonder?

Metta Practice

So despite the name of this blog, I have been slacking (big time) on my metta practice. Honestly, today was the first day I'd meditated in 3 days...and man, I could see a difference. Everything was...off. Before I sat today my mind was a mess, I was anxious and agitated and worn-out all at the same time.

The interesting thing is I was very aware of these mind states, and that they were there because I wasn't sitting. In the past, I wouldn't have had that awareness and wouldn't have been as mindful of my reactions and conditioning. But now there is the tiniest gap between thoughts arising and my actions. A little stop before I react.

So even when I'm feeling not that great--tired, irritable, anxious, etc.--I'm getting better at keeping my awareness centered and being mindful that those mind-states don't have to influence my actions--that they are just things, habits of the conditioned mind, and not part of me.

But despite that, I'm still not very good at writing when I'm this tired...so I am ending this now before I fade into total incoherence. I wonder if any of this will make sense tomorrow?

Snow. And focus, or lack thereof.

A Note to My Smart Ass Friends:

So a certain someone mentioned he resisted the urge to post a smart assed remark on my blog/Facebook page...

cough...JAKE...cough...

In all seriousness, I know some of you funny bastards are reading this and I welcome your tomfoolery...so post away. Nothing is sacred. Come on, who's writing this again?

I want to see some offensiveness on these comments, toot sweet.

Mary Oliver

Last summer I discovered the work of Mary Oliver. Somehow, even though I say I'm a writer, I manage to stay in my own little box of short fiction, poetry, and novels I like...and sadly I'm seeing that's more out of laziness than anything. Too lazy to read new writers...how weird is that?

So I've been listening to new music (genres and artists), reading new writers, and trying new things and new approaches to old habits and ideas. So I've been getting into anti-folk/urban folk (Regina Spektor, Pablo Das, and Xavier Rudd are favorites right now), new poetry, new art, new philosophies (reading Heidegger's "Poetry, Language and Thought" right now), and so on.

And I've been approaching my days with new awareness, trying to be mindful of my old habits, my old routines, my old conditioning and ways of viewing the world. Stopping and getting in the gap of awareness is so different ow. With my "death " looking over my shoulder and whispering in my ear...everything is more present, more aware, more mindful.


It's very enlightening, especially in light of the Year to Live practice.

Anyway, here is something that Mary Oliver wrote that I thought was really fitting. I copied it out in my journal a couple of weeks ago and just saw it today.

Next Time

Next time what I'd do is look at
the earth before saying anything. I'd stop
just before going into a house
and be an emperor for a minute
and listen better to the wind
or to the air being still.

When anyone talked to me, whether
blame or praise or just passing time,
I'd watch the face, how the mouth
has to work, and see any strain, any
sign of what lifted the voice.

And for all I'd know more--the earth
bracing itself and soaring, the air
finding every leaf and feather over
forest and water, and for every person
the body glowing inside the clothes
like a light.



-------------

This fits so well with where I right now. Which isn't really surprising--Oliver is a long time Buddhist practicioner and is well-known among the Buddhist community.

But there is no next time, is there? Not in the larger sense--i.e., a next life, another chance at the big game--and not in the day to day or moment to moment sense, either. This second, this moment is all there is. We don't get do-overs, we don't get second chances; when this moment is gone, it's gone, and the next one is arising and already falling away. And on, and on, and on. So all we can do, all I can do, is be present in this moment and engage fully, without fear or aversion or clinging or attachment.

Shit, have I bitten off more than I can chew???

Ah...Neruda. I think that if you can read this with no reaction, you either haven't lived enough or you are so shut off from life itself that you might as well lie down and give it up.

Sonnet 20 (Tonight I Can Write the Saddest Lines)


Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

Write, for example: "The night is shattered,
and the blue stars shiver in the distance."

The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
That I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

On nights like this one, I held her in my arms.
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.

She loved me, and sometimes I loved her too.
How could one not not have loved her great, still eyes?

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel I have lost her.

To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.

What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is shattered, and she is not with me.

This is all.
In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

My sight searches for her as though to go to her
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.

The same night whitening the same the same trees.
We, we who were, are the no longer the same.

I no longer love her, that is certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her ear.

Another's. She will be another's. Like my kisses before
Her voice, her bright body. Her infinite eyes.

I no longer love her, that is certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting so long.

Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms,
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer,
and these the last verses that I write for her.



Amazing.

350 and counting...

15 Days In:

On January 1, 2009 I began the Year to Live practice, outlined in Stephen Levine's excellent book of the same title.

I set January 1, 2010 as my "death date", the day I am thinking about and creating my life around for the next 12 months. Well, 11.5 to be exact.

So why would I do this? Why would a perfectly healthy (as far as I know) 33 year old guy want to spend a year thinking and living as if it was his last?

I'm glad you asked.

In the last 12 months I have lost 3 people close to me; 2 mentors and a friend. Two of them died of cancer, one of them in an accident. None of them got to choose when or how they died. None of do, of course--but we forget that in the day-to-day hassles of life. We --at least in my case--let the 1,000 little stresses of our lives cloud our vision. We forget what's important to us. In short, we're usually so busy getting through the day that we forget to live.

But my friends who suffered through their illnesses were so present, so appreciative of what they had. Brave and resolute even in the depths of treatment, but aware that their time was limited and every second precious. I wish I had listened more closely to that upspoken lesson then, that I had spent more time on the phone, visiting, writing letters and emails to them. I wish I had one more day. Or even one more hour, or minute, to them them all how much I appreciate them and what they've meant to me.

That's one reason for taking on this practice--the awareness of life and it's endless opportunities to connect and drop our defenses. To be real and vulnerable and honest.

How often do we do that? How often do we miss that opportunity to connect with someone we love because we're too busy, distracted, worried, and so on?

I also had a 4 year relationship end-- with a woman who I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with. Coming on the heels of so much loss, it threw me into a shell-shocked form of mindfulness--a sudden and violent awareness of my own suffering as well as the suffering of others. An awareness so intense and so vulnerable that it was almost overwhelming.

In the past I would have run into the haze of drugs, alcohol and casual sex, usually leaving a trail of wreckage, confusion and suffering (mine and others) in my wake. And then I'd do it all again, running into the refuge of a relationship.

This time was different. I chose to live consciously, to suffer, to grieve. To be fully present with whatever was happening in that moment, no matter how unpleasant or painful.

It wasn't fun, by the way.

But it was needed. And now there is a new openess, a spaciousness that wasn't there before. A better and deeper sense of compassion for the suffering of others. A little less resistance and a little more acceptance, too.

And there is the pain of watching the slow decline of my father's health, and wondering how long I have with him. The experience of watching him always put his needs aside for others, and never living in a way that was true to his heart's calling.

Sometimes I stop and think, "What an amazing opportunity for learning I've been given". Other times I rage at the injustice of it all and hold my anger and suffering tightly to my chest like a long-lost and well-loved child.

The truth is, I am happier now than I have ever been. I have seen, really seen, how incredibly precious, fragile and beautiful our lives are. How close joy is in our daily lives--even when we can't see it. I am grateful even for the most painful experiences, when everything seemed dark and dead and I was choking on my own grief and suffering and thought I'd never feel anything good again. Even those moments are beautiful, precious and vibrantly real--and without them, compassion and loving-kindness aren't possible.

I have seen how we all ignore our Buddha nature, that which is best is us, and believe what we're told: that somehow, we are all inherently a little bit bad. That guilt and suffering are how we are meant to be. And I know none of that is true, and that we all have something within us that is pure and indescribably beautiful.

So in light of all that, I have decided "to live life deliberately", and to leave behind that life "of quiet desperation " that so many of us lead. That I have led.

I have decided to live fully every day, to love completely and honestly, to make amends and ask for (and give) forgiveness. I have decided to live every day with the awareness of my death over my shoulder, always there, whispering in my ear: "Pay attention. This is all you get."

I'll be writing about my experiences here and hopefully other places, if someone sees fit to publish any of this. :) Hope you enjoy the journey.