Practice

I watch people in the world 

Throw away their lives lusting after things, 

Never able to satisfy their desires, 

Falling into deeper despair 

And torturing themselves. 

Even if they get what they want 

How long will they be able to enjoy it? 

For one heavenly pleasure 

They suffer ten torments of hell, 

Binding themselves more firmly to the grindstone. 

Such people are like monkeys 

Frantically grasping for the moon in the water 

And then falling into a whirlpool. 

How endlessly those caught up in the floating world suffer. 

Despite myself, I fret over them all night 

And cannot staunch my flow of tears. 

Ryokan

Like one of Ryokan's monkeys, I can catch myself engaged in confused frantic actions, with the mind fixed tightly in some automatic or repetitive thinking mode. It is rarely restful, sometimes creative and excited, but all too often it returns to an ingrained habit of anxiety and restlessness. It is also the strongest reminder that I am making restlessness my practice - Oops, there I go again, worrying about whether the oven is off.... Did I manage to send that email? ... I wish my colleague and I got on better.... Is that a flu coming on?

We can find a tremendous process for transformation using a Contemplative Practice. We find a practice which brings us home. We might even come to accept that it may never be possible to prevent these momentary states of mind from arising. We are human, after all. That's nature being natural. However, we also come to know that these are passing states of mind, alluding to passing triggers and circumstances, in a world which is forever changing. The moon is not in the water. Planting ourselves here will not make us happy, safe or content.

You must rise above

the gloomy clouds

covering the mountaintop

otherwise, how will you

ever see the brightness?

Ryokan

It is in the practice of relying on our deepest Knowing, of being comfortable with Unknowing, that we come home to ourselves. We come to know we were always home all along, we just didn't recognise the house or the neighbours' cat.

The only true joy on earth is to escape from the prison of our own false self, and enter by love into union with the Life Who dwells and sings within the essence of every creature and in the core of our own souls...

Thomas Merton

When our own words fail us, when our understanding falls short, we lean on those who can remind us of Silence, Beingness, Presence, of our true nature in the depths of each moment. The continuous sinking back into Silence needs to be our primary practice.

You are not a drop in the ocean. You are the entire ocean in a drop.

Rumi

Pure Heart, Enlightened Mind

A friend of mine recently handed me a copy of this book which I had come across many years ago, but had never quite got around to reading. It tells the story of Maura (Soshin-san) O'Halloran, an Irish-American Catholic woman who was one of the very few women ever to be allowed to train at a male-dominated traditional Zen monastery in Japan. She was ordained a Zen Buddhist monk in 1982.


She was born in Boston in 1955, the daughter of an Irish father and American mother. They moved to Ireland when she was four. She spent most of her youth in Ireland, though the entire family along with her five younger siblings also spent time in Boston, and especially in Maine where her maternal grandmother lived. Her father died suddenly in a road accident when she was 14. She was very socially aware, and became active for social justice while attending Trinity College in Dublin, and during her early working life. She was a courageous and adventurous traveller, at times braving solo travel through Central and South America.


At some point during this time, she became drawn to the conviction that the social changes she longed for in her environment could possibly be more effectively brought about by changing oneself, rather than seeking to change others or institutions. Inspired by a family friend, she decided to visit Japan, to deepen her own meditation practice and to study Zen. She was very aware that control over her thoughts and mental processes was key to her sense of well-being and happiness. The book, told through her own journal accounts of her three years in Japan, give great insight into daily monastic life at two Japanese Buddhist monasteries under a master Zen tutor (Roshi). We learn about her life there, about Zen, about the sacred moments, the squabbles and the cultural diversities. Her journals also reveal her loving and open relationships with her family and many friends.

Of late I feel ridiculously happy. No reason. Just bursting with joy... Now I'm 26, and I feel as if I've lived my life... Any desires, ambitions, hopes I may have had have either been fulfilled or spontaneously dissipated. I'm totally content.

This is one of those books where you find shelter. It is at times heartbreakingly moving and inspiring in its description of human effort, surrender of self, and realisation of the divine inner nature, or enlightened Buddha-nature to use Zen terminology. For me it was a pilgrimage, read during a recent short hospital stay. This time saw her transformed by her dedicated heart, heavy work load and prolonged meditation training into a Zen monk and master in her own right. She is now recognised in Japan, and by all those who have been touched by her story, as a Zen saint. In 1982, at the age of 27, Maura died suddenly in a bus accident, while travelling in Thailand on her return journey home.

Maura was engaged with the honorary role of monastery chef, but her daily workload often consisted of long arduous hours of cleaning, cooking, gardening and sewing. She had help at times from other monks, but remained primarily self-motivated to seeing work as a continuation of her Zen practice. Over time, she solved the various koans (Zen riddles), worked tirelessly to prepare for extended Zen retreats, engaged in the Zen practice of begging/blessing (Takuhatsu), often in freezing temperatures and snow while wearing only straw sandals, and long periods of sitting meditation including overnight meditation while getting one hour's sleep sitting upright. Her Zen practice became a minute by minute dedication to the task at hand with full focus, attention and presence. This was her primary training, life itself. Through this, she achieved great spiritual breakthroughs, and came into a deep sense of peace, surrender and self-abandonment, while growing in inner contentment, acceptance and joy.

Everything seems wonderful. Even undesirable, painful conditions have a poignant beauty and exaltation. So in a sense I feel I have died; for myself there is nothing else to strive after, nothing more to make my life worthwhile or to justify it. 

As she immersed herself more and more in her work and Zen practice, her own needs and desires further dissolved, and she became dedicated to helping others. The journey of her discipline and mindfulness practice is altogether uplifting and inspiring, and clearly puts our daily grumbles into perspective. Maura's journals take you on your own retreat with her. You appreciate her struggles to overcome her own conditioning, as well as her moments of hardship and discouragement. Mostly, you sense her vibrant energy, her great sense of humour, her excellent discernment, and purity of heart. I couldn't help but have a sense of companionship as I read on, that a compassionate listener was present.

Having always had a generous nature, she planned to open a Zen training centre in Dublin on her return.

I have maybe 50 or 60 years (who knows?) of time, of a life, open, blank, ready to offer. I want to live it for other people. What else is there to do with it? Not that I expect to change the world or even a blade of grass, but it's as if to give myself is all I can do, as the flowers have no choice but to blossom. At the moment the best I can see to do is to give to people this freedom, this bliss, and how better than through zazen? ( Zen practice of sitting meditation ) So I must go deeper and deeper and work hard, no longer for me but for everyone I can help.

There are poignant parallels with Thomas Merton's desire to help others and to be of service in the world, as well as his tragic death in Thailand. Some also compare her short life and deep realisations to that of St. Thérèse of Lisieux. Each have blessed us though their journals with the gift of seeing and understanding their inner journeys of liberation and transformation from the conditioned self to the realisation of the divine nature within.

Silence and Presence exist everywhere and in every tradition. However we feel pulled by Silence, it seems fulfilment and enlightenment lie in our ability to find rest there, and to let our actions move from there.

Pause For A Moment

A quiet day's pause 

Time slows to an easy pace

Nature is basking

Hurry finds no hit today

Contentedness arises

How lovely to find a long quiet day stretching out ahead, with no appointments, no deadlines, and nothing at all to be achieved. It is with a grateful heart that I find one, today.

Everyone needs a moment to immerse themselves in their own natural way. It is my constant prayer that my outside world becomes a more natural rhythm for me. In other words, it is my prayer that those internal disharmonies soften even more so that the external world then reflects this ease and harmony. Much energy is pulled from within when we find ourselves in an unnatural rhythm. It is not possible to sustain it for very long, without feeling exhausted and strained. The prayer is that we can adapt and move seamlessly from one role to the next, whatever the context, all the while following an internal natural dial. I don't think we were even meant to be anything other than this.

Our natural rhythm may be a quiet one for some, or filled with company for others. Either way, it's best to find our own balance. Some need a burst of spontaneity, of fun and laughter. Some need that elusive alone-time, others want to read, to write, to go for that long walk, to play music, to watch a movie. A nap, anyone? Do we even know how tired we actually are? Whether we have just a few precious hours, or the whole day, or joy of joys, a few days, make it a retreat for your heart, for the deep aches of the inmost self. Get re-attuned to your natural rhythm.

Enjoy these accidental mini holidays, whenever they come along. Don't fill them with emails, phone calls, TV, chores, or social media. Everything can wait. This is an outstanding opportunity to spend the day listening and seeing, rather than planning and doing. This is a chance to receive the day as it unfolds.

Intuition tells us when to move on, where to go, and what to do or say next. By anchoring our attention on what surrounds us - listening to the sounds, seeing the activity in nature, following our intuition - we are in prayer. By being present to the Presence, we strengthen our ability to lead a contented blessed life, within the natural rhythm of Life, whatever our role.

This is a sacred discipline.

Every moment and every event of every man's life on earth plants something in his soul.

Thomas Merton, New Seeds of Contemplation

Recovery

A host of golden daffodils

I wandered lonely as a cloud

That floats on high o'er vales and hills,

When all at once I saw a crowd,

A host of golden daffodils;

Beside the lake, beneath the trees,

Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine

And twinkle on the Milky Way,

They stretched in never-ending line

Along the margin of a bay:

Ten thousand saw I at a glance,

Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they

Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:

A poet could not but be gay,

In such a jocund company:

I gazed - and gazed - but little thought

What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie

In vacant or in pensive mood,

They flash upon that inward eye

Which is the bliss of solitude;

And then my heart with pleasure fills,

And dances with the daffodils.

William Wordsworth, I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud. c. 1804.

At peak times of activity, work deadlines, family challenges and demands, we can often be left with a longing for rest time - a time to recover. It connects me too with the recovery time needed after a period of illness. There is often a blessing in the fatigue and weakness which we can encounter at these times. We have endured a period of hardship, and find ourselves empty and exhausted. 

Our strength and direction have momentarily left us. We don't feel able for much activity, if any, and even conversation can be demanding. At times of illness, we may have to hand ourselves and our well-being over to teams of doctors and specialists, who schedule us for tests, for diagnosis, and treatment. We are cared for by nurses or family members, who encourage us to eat something. 

In spite of it all, once pain is not excessive, we can be quite content in this momentary time of weakness. It keeps ambition and restlessness at bay - they too receive little energy or focus from us. That, in itself, is a great balm for the mind and body. We pace ourselves, getting a little exercise, eating a little wholesome food, snoozing, having a little read, a little conversation, and another snooze. Bit by bit, we continue to strengthen.

Recovery is a gentle time - time to rest, to be quiet, to let the inner rhythm dictate the pace. Time to admire the daffodils, the nesting birds, to feel the heat of the sun on our face, on our back. Time to see what nature is doing - it constantly gives us clues as to what we should be doing, or not doing, and the natural pace of the season. It is time to retreat, to go inwards and replenish. To go back to Source, and soothe the emptiness and confusion. It is a sacred time. Every now and again, it's good to recover. To take stock of our lives and our direction. To recover our balance, our rhythm, our natural way. To recover ourselves. 

To allow oneself to be carried away by a multitude of conflicting concerns, to surrender to too many demands, to commit oneself to too many projects ... is to succumb to the violence of our times.

Thomas Merton

Every season moves onto the next. We will move forward again soon enough.

Going Beyond The Shadows

Beyond The Shadows

There are times when we fight with shadows that don’t even exist. Then, there are times when we shock ourselves by the darker sides of our nature. We see that we contain openness and closed-mindedness and closed-heartedness. We contain dark and light, love and hate, peace and rage, acceptance and rebellion, hope and despair, success and defeat, approval and rejection. It seems the deeper we go into one polarity, the wider we can also swing in its equivalent polarity. We prefer the "nicer" places, and try and avoid the "darker" places.

We all have unloving qualities. We can rage against the flow of our lives. We can criticise others' weaknesses and interpret how they further complicate and frustrate our lives. We can blame Life and God for our difficulties and in spite of that, find no relief. We can move through our days and not once get beyond ourselves, our needs and demands. In spite of being dedicated to self-awareness, we lose control of our objectivity, we lose our patience, we get angry, we feel self-righteous or ashamed. Can we get over ourselves!

As we lapse in our Contemplative practices, our meditation, our awareness of Silence, our gaze and consent to Spirit, we land into the shadows, into upheaval, disharmony and chaos. It is inevitable. Restlessness is the natural way of our mind and emotions. We won't change this reality. Contemplation gently reminds us again to take the focus off ourselves and the events of our ever-changing lives, to widen our gaze, and plant it on Presence, on Stillness, on Silence, on Spirit, on whatever or however God is manifesting in our lives.

The shadows remind us we have become compromised. They help tire us again of our restlessness and self-centredness, and return our hunger for balance and harmony. They remind us not to settle for anything less than awareness and trust in the higher order playing out in our lives.

We are multi-flawed human beings, with plenty of shadows. Humility and surrender allow us to admit them, to admit our forgetfulness and our lapses, and to seek forgiveness from ourselves and our loved ones who witness our flaws up close. Circumstances not going our way mostly reveal that our way is insufficient and incomplete, and perhaps not loving to everyone concerned, and would therefore not serve us well, either. We are softened and emptied out even more, ever more.


The way of Love and Harmony will always win out, and we end up being thankful this is the case. It's never about us. It's always about how Love is unravelling itself in us.

When our attention is on ourselves, in the image-blindness of the ego, everything is a distraction from God. When attention is in God, with the vision of faith, everything reveals God to us.

Laurence Freeman OSB, The Selfless Self

Lead Kindly Light

Stained Glass at Mount Melleray Abbey

The Pillar of the Cloud

Lead, Kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom; Lead Thou me on.

The night is dark, and I am far from home; Lead Thou me on. 

Keep Thou my feet; I do not ask to see the distant scene; 

one step enough for me. 

I was not ever thus, nor pray'd that Thou shouldst lead me on; 

I loved to choose and see my path, but now lead Thou me on.

I loved the garish day, and, spite of fears, pride ruled my will: 

remember not past years. 

So long Your power hath blest me, sure it still will lead me on, 

o'er moor and fen, o'er crag and torrent, till the night is gone; 

and with the morn those angel faces smile 

which I have loved long since, and lost awhile.

John Henry Newman, at sea, 16th June 1833

Lenten Compline Hymn, Mount Melleray Abbey

I was very blessed to join in a prayerful retreat at Mount Melleray Abbey, near Cappoquin, where the above hymn was sung by the monks at the Compline office (evening prayer). It was composed by John Henry Newman in a period of turmoil, as he struggled to get home to England from Europe, and to pursue an inner pull to transform the Church. He endured loneliness, illness and a deep yearning to begin his quest, though he did not yet know what truly lay ahead for him.

I am in great gratitude for the presence of these inspiring Cistercian monks, who honour and live out their devotion to God, Love, Silence, Community and Contemplation, and allow us to join in and anchor ourselves there too. We know not what lies ahead for us, but by anchoring ourselves in the strength of our prayers, our deep inner knowing, and Silence, we invite and embody Rest.

Silence

God's poet is silence! His song is unspoken 

And yet so profound, and so loud, and so far,

That it thrills you and fills you in measures unbroken -

The unceasing song of the first morning star ....

Joaquin Miller, The True Poet

There was a beautiful calmness this week, a gentle invitation for the Spirit into Silence. It was restful, with a grateful recognition of peace, simplicity and community. And then, typically, a familiar moment of turmoil arrived, with its not-so-welcome recognition of panic, confusion and isolation. It amazes me how our default polarities sit so closely together, pulling us from one extreme to the other.

The spiritual masters, saints and mystics have recommended for hundreds and thousands of years, that we consciously place our attention on Silence and Presence, rather than on the story or object of our disharmony; focus on the Presence rather than on the circumstances of the turmoil; focus on the background Silence in which this is all taking place. In this way, the circumstances are acknowledged, allowed and absorbed into the entire background, rather than so dominating our foreground that we cannot even sense Silence as the background.

This is a practice of prioritising Presence over the restless, ever-changing, often weary landscape of our minds. It is the repetitive action of placing our attention on God, on Silence, like the hall light we leave on through the night while we sleep. Ramana Maharshi tells us to concentrate on the light, rather than on what is illuminated by the light. This is our permanent landing place. This is certainly one reminder I constantly use, and somehow, I recognise my true Self there, in recognising God, and an ease comes to the Spirit.

In the attitude of silence the soul finds the path in a clearer light, and what is elusive and deceptive resolves itself into crystal clearness. Our life is a long and arduous quest after Truth.

Mahatma Gandhi

Silence, as Presence, as Beingness, is the background which holds all else, and into which everything is absorbed and dissolves. It is Silence in the presence of turmoil, peace, fear, frustration, joy, disappointment and inconsistency. It is Silence in spite of noise, interruption, disharmony, joy, progression, success. It is the Silence within which our inner knowing is revealed.

In an attitude of trust and silence, we bow everything to God. Contemplation confirms that a higher order of balance and harmony is working its way out in us and in Life itself. These moments of turmoil take us beyond Resilience. We just need to keep our eye on the light, and watch it continue to shine forth in and around us.

Returning to silence is returning to peace.

Returning to peace, the world reharmonises itself.

Lao Tzu

Withdraw yourself from all care

Withdraw Yourself

Presence speaks in many wordless ways. The events of our life as they unfold are the clearest words. Life is endlessly speaking wisdom into our hearts. Life is challenging us to allow even greater ease, even greater freedom, disguised as hardship and limitation. Once allowing is allowed, it presents our deepest places yet longing for freedom, longing to be allowed. Present all to the Presence that breathes wisdom and clarity into our being. We will know what to say when the time is right.

Withdraw yourself from all care; trust not in yourself but in Him; do not be anxious or solicitous to perform great works for Him until He leads you Himself, by obedience and love and the events which His providence directs, to undertake the works He has planned for you and by which He will use you to communicate the fire of His love to other men.

Thomas Merton

A Contemplative Practice

Contemplation is a form of prayer and inner knowing. Thomas Merton calls it the intuitive grasp by which love gains certitude of God's creative and dynamic intervention in our daily life. Contemplation isn't something we do, but rather an explanation or description of how we are transformed from within. St. John of the Cross wrote about this inner transformation in The Dark Night of the Soul. We become emptied and purified by life's trials and experiences. It is in the daily, often unsure, living of our lives when we consent to this process of being transformed, that we can ultimately rest back into our true nature. Here, Wisdom grows, and we recognise ourselves. A daily Contemplative practice helps us surrender moment by moment to this process, and brings us back to Resting in God (St. Gregory The Great).

In the dark night of the soul, bright flows the river of God.

If a man wishes to be sure of the road he treads on, he must close his eyes and walk in the dark.

St. John of the Cross.

Here are some contemplative practices which help to stay anchored in the Heart:

1. Exercise every day, even if it is a short 15 minute walk. The body needs it.
2. Get out into nature, or at least let your eyes visit it. Nature knows balance.
3. Have a moment of prolonged silence. Practice meditation or meditative movement. Plan a retreat to immerse deeper into Silence.
4. Develop the ability to hear intuitively. Practice listening and receiving. Surrendering is allowing situations to be as they are. Active times move seamlessly into times of retreat and then forward again into action. Move and respond to this rhythm.
5. Let music feed your Spirit.
6. There is a season for everything. Allow things and people to ebb and flow.
7. Know yourself. Forgive your flaws and habitual reactions - they'll probably always be with you. Contemplation brings them to rest. Allow others to have their flaws.
8. Laugh, a lot.
9. Love. Someone at rest with themselves can love easily.
10. Be willing to grieve how little you know, how little power you have, how misunderstood you can be, how painful your circumstances can become. This is purification - the dark night of the soul. Grief transforms into a deep peace and inner knowing.
11. Know what anchors you and brings you inner Rest. Consent to it.
12. Read sacred enlightened texts daily. Remember and recognise Truth.
13. Consent to Spirit/God/Presence within. This is Contemplative Prayer. You are being prayed into Being.

Start thinking about a practice you can manage. Contemplation invites you to make anchoring your practice, and then do it continually. There is no success, no failure. By allowing the current moment to be as it is, Rest is welcomed. You are home.

Beyond Resilience

Each life is a mystery that is never finally available to the mind's light or questions. That we are here is a huge affirmation; somehow life needed us and wanted us to be.

John O'Donohue

What we can miss most at times of turmoil is Rest, the ability to move through our daily activities with the often unappreciated comforts of familiarity and knowingness. Turmoil introduces change, doubts, insecurities, frustrations, and an unknowingness of what new direction will unfold.

At times we overreact. We grade the level of turmoil as being higher than it actually is. Even a small trigger can catch us believing for a time something hugely significant is happening. At other times, we are shocked how wide the ripples and how deep the implications of change which are thrust upon us.

I always felt resilience was one of the most enviable of human qualities, found more in some people than others. Resilience and adaptability help shorten the adjustment time in periods of change. This bounce-back-ability is often seen to be at its peak in children. They may cry in pain after a fall or a falling-out with a sibling or friend, and then quickly recover and begin a new game together. The compulsion for fun and the enjoyment of the moment or the game, or the company of their buddy, by far overrides any pain they can now hardly even remember. It seems at some point, the felt pains stack up, even for children, and a subtle strategy to avoid pain begins, and can last a lifetime if left unchallenged.

Even for those lucky adults who have a high level of resilience, there are many times when they too find themselves at a loss and struggle to adjust to what life is presenting. Grief, illness, relationships, home life, work, finances, and funnily enough, even the weather can severely affect our equilibrium. We need time to come back to Resting. (See Be Yourself Post)

I knew I was hearing Truth when I realised Contemplation concerned not so much a quick-fix solution or a dogma, as a re-directing inwards of my attention and focus. It invites the fullness and impossibility of a situation to exist, and with it, the full vulnerability of Unknowing. In time, we gain tolerance for this vulnerability and this Unknowing, and a wonder at the harmony with which each new situation becomes resolved, too often in spite of us. This takes us beyond resilience.

One of the strange laws of the contemplative life is that in it you do not sit down and solve problems: you bear with them until they somehow solve themselves. Or until life itself solves them for you. Usually the solution consists in a discovery that they only existed insofar as they were inseparably connected with your own illusory exterior self. The solution of most such problems comes with the dissolution of this false self.

 Thomas Merton

A Christmas Wish

Rest
Let a quietude come upon you.
Take a breath and come into the present moment.
Put aside your cares, worries, frustrations and distractions.
Allow your current state to be as it is.
Have one long unhurried moment.
Forgive your failings. They're part of being human.
Be present to the Presence.
Let Silence nourish you.


This Christmas
Get out into nature. Walk. Run. Swim. Sit. Laugh. Play.
Share a moment of complete beauty with someone you love, and with someone new.
Let something impact you. Let someone inspire you. Let your Heart fill to overflowing.
Look for the Absolute in everyone. Recognise the Absolute in you.
Notice one magical happening. They’re all around you.
Silently help someone who may not even know they need it.
Forgive someone.

In the silent, still night, may the blessing of Jesus’ birth embrace you. 

And may Presence cause a thorough contentment in your Heart.



Image copyright Lucy Learns Ltd.

Take a moment and light a candle

Take a moment and light a candle

As our friends in the southern hemisphere settle in for a long summer ahead, of summer rain storms, high temperatures and humidity, we in the northern end of the world are seeing shorter days, dropping temperatures and a sense of hibernation approaching. We will soon see the shortest day of the year.

It is also a time when the frenzy of Christmas preparations begins in earnest. Plans are made for family gatherings. Children are frantically finalising letters to Santa. They may well and truly burst with excitement over the next few weeks. Parents take even deeper sighs. A joy underneath it all is getting ready to unleash. One of the most grace-filled times of the year approaches.

Yet, life continues. Loved ones pass away. Illness calls on our doors. Successes are celebrated. Hurdles are overcome. A homeless person sees a sandwich placed on his lap under his downturned eyes. Elsewhere, hard-earned presents are purchased and carefully hidden. Loneliness calls. Surprise homecomings from overseas beckon. Friends call for help. Busy lives make weary. The human experience continues.

In this moment, take a moment, and light a candle. Follow the pace of the flame. Let silence surround you, for a moment. Feel the natural heart-beat of life, today. Take a sacred moment to find your place in it. Catch your breath. Blend it with the silence. Contemplation allows all to unfold naturally. Lean back, just a little, and allow it.