Day 1 of being a "Zero"

No, I am not being hazed at the monastery. But I am trying to be a "zero."

Everyone wants to be a "plus one" when they start...someone who will contribute and make things better and run more smoothly. But really, the best you can hope for at the beginning is to not mess things up or get in the way. So day one was dedicated to making sure I was on time to everything (from the 4:30 am wake-up call for chanting, to 7:30 am silent breakfast, to 1:05 - sharp for lunch, and 7-9 evening meditation) and making sure I didn't mess up scrubbing the toilets and folding laundry. I've been here before so the monastic schedule is no surprise to me but as a guest, I was participating in cleaning, cooking, and service activities on a volunteer basis since my main goal was to work on my thesis. Now, all these tasks are a necessary part of my awakening and responsibility to the monastery. It is beautiful and I am grateful to be here. Let's see how long mopping floors and scrubbing toilets feels like a blessing.

In fact, I actually did make the mistake of using bleach to clean a bucket because our head teacher, Soryu, is allergic to synthetic fragrances and the smell of bleach is hazardous to his health...wonderful. But, all in all, I've kept my toes in line which honestly, isn't the point at all...the point is to AWAKEN. During interview hours (a special one-on-one time with Soryu  during meditation) I asked him about expressions of joy.  He was encouraging my continued practice of feeling compassion with my entire body - every cell of my being and he told me to welcome joy and awe - not to suppress it.  This was interesting to me as the monastery can feel like a stifling place. It is so quiet at times and I usually attempt to refrain from being loud so as not to be a distraction to others.  We even try to breathe quietly! But I asked him about singing - if that was ok and he told me not to suppress anything - to embrace my authentic expression of joy as fully as possible.  I am excited to continue to explore what this means. I may end up singing and dancing around the monastery as that is truly one of my most authentic expressions of joy. Can't wait for that!

On a side not, my favorite part of the day was helping Autumn, my roommate and the only other female resident, clean and reorganize the fridges and upon consolidating two jars of grey poupon mustard, I got to lick the spoon! Yay! ...Yep. It's the little things out here.

Another very fun and exciting thing that happened today: I jumped in the frozen pond and ran around in the snow barefoot as part of my morning exercise... what an exhilarating experience! I plan to make a habit out of this.

The Human Machine

I've been driving this beautiful vehicle of a human body around for 25 years but I've never consulted the user's manual. I've explored some of my physical limitations through competitive soccer and some of my psychological limitations through personal experiences with grief, depression, and the challenging process of writing a thesis on positive death-care. But I've never created space in my life to dive deep into the capacities and limitations of my psycho-spiritual being.

I'm about to embark on three months of meditation practice at the Center for Mindful Learning - a center dedicated to personal awakening and service to the monastic community and the world.  It's starting to get cold up here in Burlington, Vermont and will get colder still through the months of December, January, February, March.   I am so grateful to be here - even relieved. 

My intention is to truly truly begin to understand the workings of my own mind; to begin to free myself from the prison that my own mind can become. To become well versed and knowledgeable of all the beautiful tools that this form has provided to me. And to find the inner strength, courage, patience, and compassion to harness the power of those tools to the best of my ability.  I believe I will be both clearing the debris and detritus from the dusty corners of my mind and heart and beginning to learn just what this form is capable of. Getting out of my own way, learning the way my body wants to move, connect, activate, becoming a master of this form and understanding and surrendering to my own limitations and capacities.  I am excited to explore what this form is capable of and above all else I am excited to give myself to great love - to express love in all of my actions, thoughts, and relationships - both with myself and the psycho-spiritual intimacy of my meditation community. 

Let the adventures begin!!

True Love Exists

What does love look like in the 21st century? 

Does true compassion exist? So often we love another in an attempt to validate ourselves. This is not love but self-love. And perhaps it's not even self-love because it is coming from a place of scarcity, from thinking we are not enough. We need to reassure ourselves that we are enough, that we are lovable, that the world sees and appreciates our value. Even making another person feel good or acting in a generous way can be an act of selfishness if our motivation for action is for the sense of reassurance that "I am a good person" or for the joy, peace, and comfort that comes from bringing joy to another person.

Granted, if all motivations of pleasure and pain are inherently selfish, not all forms of selfishness are created equal. Mutual rapture is light years away from sexual abuse. Giving to charity or helping your neighbor may be a selfish act if it is done for the personal validation of improving someone else's life but it is far superior to stealing from someone.

In the Jewish tradition there is a saying "the anonymous mitzvah is the greatest mitzvah." A mitzvah is an act of service or kindness. If you were to perform a good deed and ask yourself: "would I be doing this even if I never gained recognition for it" what would be your answer? If it would no longer be worth performing, perhaps motivation is coming from a desire for validation, appreciation, recognition, or love.

Here's the good thing: if you bring your attention to it, if you are willing to look at your moment to moment experience and entertain the idea that you may be acting out of selfishness, that selfishness can not hold. Selfishness breaks apart, dissolves, just like an emotion. It may come back again and again, in various forms but if we remain a compassionate and courageous observer it loses it's power.

I do believe that true compassion, true love, and true selflessness exist.

You Are Not Alone

Today is the five year anniversary of my father's death. He was fifty-five when he took his own life. I would say chose to die, but there is something less than autonomous about a desperate desire to be free from emotional pain. I think we both imagined a different future together. I know we did. And after a hard winter that left me reeling and healing and tender and simply grateful for air, I now understand just a little bit better how hard life can be, especially in the prison of our own minds. At least it gave me my new favorite tag line: some days, success is putting your pants on. I think I understand my father's desperate desire to replace pain with peace and yet, I have a fierce certainty that he would love to be here if he could.

I do hope my father is at peace and I know he truly was in a great deal of pain - he lost much of his autonomy in the last few years of his life to an addiction to oxycontin, he lost his job as a lawyer, was getting a divorce from my mother, was generally unhappy with these changes in his life.  The reason I'm compelled to share this information is because we don't talk about these things. On father's day I put up a relatively generic "I love you Dad and miss you" post but at the very moment I clicked to post, I remembered there was someone, somewhere, thinking about suicide, chilling in a psychiatric unit after a suicide attempt, or generally feeling uncomfortable in their own skin because being in the world and in our bodies can be incredibly uncomfortable at times.

This post is for all the people who have felt at their wits end, perhaps unwilling or unable to reach out or feeling that no one would be there to catch them if they did.  This is also for the people who genuinely have trouble understanding what it must be like to not want to live, to be in so much pain and discomfort that the only option seems to be death. This world can be an incredibly lonely and alienating place and sometimes, there is no solution to the things that ail us. But there is power in storytelling and conversation.  I am not ashamed of my father or of my own experiences with depression. Life is so hard some times.

So, this is for you dad - and for all of us.  My small truth offered up as a gift or a spark or a doorway or permission to be whatever it is you are, to feel whatever it is you are feeling. Free from shame or fear. It's hard enough without piling that on top.

And I can truthfully say I am grateful for the joy and clarity that my experiences have afforded me. The friends that have been by my side whether they knew this part of my story or not. Even as I miss my father on the five year anniversary of his death, and mourn the future we will never share together, I am grateful for the clarity and joy that lies hidden in the most unexpected and dark places. Grateful to be both living and alive which I consider a triumph of the human spirit. I would like to congratulate anyone out there who is doing the same.

**A virtual high five today if you are breathing and maybe even put your pants on**

Tasting Sunshine

I've spent the last week living and working on a Modern Monastery in Vermont and yesterday, I tasted sunshine for the first time.

Thank you to Miles and Peter for getting me out here!

In this beautiful natural setting, away from the hustle and bustle of Philadelphia and the consistent deadlines of a masters program, I feel like I am reawakening to the experience of being alive. This feeling of being more fully alive and aware of the present moment has revealed itself in small ways like really tasting the (distinctly sunshine-y) flavor of tender greens or being far more aware of my thoughts and emotions as they pass through my body. It is as terrifying as it is exciting because it's revealing how numb I've been for so long.

I am becoming more aware of my internal thinking, feeling, and seeing here.  I am noticing that often love and care come to me as both thoughts and feelings. I am noticing that humor comes to me as a thought: "that's funny" and as a feeling of amusement bubbling up from my belly. But the truly joyful sense has been internal "seeing." Ideas bubbling to the surface of my mind as images, pictures, abstract concepts, metaphors, ideas.  I didn't realize how rare and precious this form of thinking was. They come during moments of inspiration, joy, curiosity, excitement and yes, sometimes sadness. When I am imagining an acquaintance as they must have been as a child or trying to understand how the experience of eating hits my body I feel full after a time and I think how lucky I am to have food (or I think this soup could use a little more salt) but then there are moments when I see the flavor of a juicy piece of cantaloupe or a tender leafy greens in my mind's eye. I can see the delicate flavor of sunshine or sweetness as a burst of light or an abstract image. A visual idea.

Dichotomies abound here. I am currently typing on my computer and have the freedom to use my cell phone to call friends and family. It feels weird to have these amenities and reminders of the modern world in this place dedicated to presence and practice - and healing, learning, truth, goodness, love. But what I deeply respect about the Center for Mindful Learning is its ability to conform to the modern world without losing the intention of awakening and responsibility. We begin and end the day with two hours of meditation and chanting.  We eat breakfast in mindful silence. We support each other in the joys and sorrows of trying to be more fully awake - and alive, caring, loving, intentional, aware, present.  We ask each other and ourselves: are you breathing? Feel your breath. Breathe deep into your belly. What is your body feeling? What is your mind thinking? Are your thoughts words or pictures? As you sit in front of your computer screen or your cell phone, where is your mind? When you are eating breakfast where is your mind? What are you seeing, feeling, thinking inside and outside? Is there something beyond looking in and looking out? How can you sense a place between and beyond inside and outside of the body if you can not perceive of it with the human senses? Hmm.

It is so fascinating to look closer at the daily, moment to moment experience of being human. And damn, am I realizing how numb I've been for so long.

These are some things that have come up for me lately:

    I miss my Dad.

    I am scared when I think about the future.

    I feel regret, shame, embarrassment, disappointment, sorrow when I think about the past.

No wonder my unconscious mind and body have tried to protect me from these sensations.

I also feel a great deal of joy and humor - more than I realized was inside me. It bubbles up like a natural spring and I am so grateful to feel this - as grateful as I am to feel the darker sensations of being human.

It fascinates me to notice how I have denied the needs and messages of my own loving body.  Hello there body, thank you for working so hard - I am listening, looking, feeling - I am paying attention to the present moment.  I am grateful for this awareness. So grateful for the challenge of uncomfortable truth as it presents itself in various forms of longing, clinging, desiring.  Seeing these experiences - this suffering - as a gift, deploying curiosity and awareness as tools to understand and explore the important messages and information coming in and out through the body - I am excited (and apprehensive) to see what I learn next.

A bonfire and some authentic circling near the lake

Asking the Right Questions

What is more powerful: good advice or a good question?

When I was a sophomore in college, and my father was deeply entrenched in a drug addiction I knew very little about, I started getting headaches.  I went to the doctor to try to figure out what was going on - was I iron deficient, vitamin D deficient, under too much stress?  The doctor asked me a number of questions about my daily routine, my eating habits, my level of stress and then, seemingly out of the blue, he asked me "how is your relationship with your dad?"

He had somehow stumbled upon the right question.

My reaction was intense and immediate.  "Not good" I choked.  I began to tear up as we discussed my sadness and frustration about how disconnected I felt from my dad.  By the end of the appointment, I had a "prescription" to send my dad a letter - sharing my life with him on my terms.  I don't remember if my headaches went away immediately, but I do remember the tension subsiding from pinpointing the source of my stress and discomfort.

So how had my doctor known to ask the right question?

He made an informed guess.

I'm realizing now, years later, just how powerful a guess can be. And how powerful it is when we are willing to be wrong.

I recently spent a week volunteering at a non-violent communication camp on Vashon Island, Washington and one of my favorite lessons of camp was the value of an empathy guess. To paint a picture of this magical place: families come together for one week each summer to learn to be more courageous and loving with their words.  The farm that we stay on is grassy and warm, the blackberries are ripe and abundant, and if you choose you can set up your tent in the apple orchard in the shade of a ripe apple tree.  Meals are communal, time is more flexible and held by the ringing of a gong, and every offering is optional - even children are in choice about their day.  In this environment of intentional empathy, openness, and courage, transformational things can and do occur for individuals and groups.

An example of an empathy guess might look like this: "Are you feeling ____ because you need ____?"  Simple. It doesn't have to be this formulaic but the results can be profound. I have often worried that guessing at what someone was feeling might make them feel misunderstood or frustrated. I'm finding that it is more likely to show that person that you care.  And when you finally get it right the relief can be immediate.

My favorite analogy for the empathy guess is that of scratching a friend's back.  You might ask "is that right?" and they might reply "no, just a little to the left."  "How about now?" and perhaps they respond "a little further down."  When you finally find the itch  and scratch it the relief will be immediate for that person!  And the effort you put into finding the right spot will not be resented in any way...you are working together to understand the need and help it get met!

So to answer the initial question, good advice can be useful but good questions can be transformative. Asking a poignant question instead of suggesting, judging, coddling, or sharing one's on experience can allow an individual to explore their inner self in new and profound ways.  What is alive in you? What do you care about?  What could make life more enjoyable right now?  These are the main questions of NVC. Better than any advice I have ever received, I am grateful for the poignant questions that have encouraged exploration and growth.

Intentional Living and Tikkun Olam

In the last three weeks, I have floated in the dead sea, snorkeled in the red sea, splashed in the sea of galilee (known in Israel as the Kinneret) and frolicked in the sand of the Mediterranean.  I have dipped in a purifying mikvah, explored an underwater cavern, prayed at the western wall, and sung in an abandoned cistern.  I have eaten shwarma, falafal, bomba, and more than my body weight in hummus. I am amazed at the beauty of this place; the limestone rock used for almost all construction, the amazing mix of languages, accents, ethnicities, and stories. I’m not sure I realized how beautiful a desert could be before coming here. I’m not sure I could have imagined the resilience and daily intention of a group of people.  And even when my opinion or point of view differs, perhaps especially when it does, I have found myself deeply impacted by the people and ways of life here.

Intentional Living

The gaza border

Near the end of my ten day adventure with Israel Outdoors, we visited a kibbutz in Sha'ar Hanegev - a community minutes from the gaza border. The act of living in this community - the simple act of breathing - takes courage and intention and I have been blown away by it. No one chooses to live in a war zone, within range of rocket fire, just because. It's not something that just happens, it is a conscious decision.  While getting a tour of the kibbutz from one of the residents, I was able to hear her story of why she has chosen to live there - putting her children and herself in harms way.  She has chosen to live on the perimeter of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict because she believes with her whole being that this is the best way for her to support her country.  It is hard for me to imagine doing the same, but the power of her commitment is something I respect on a very deep level.  I was equally amazed to hear the sound of child laughter all around us on the Kibbutz even as we spoke about such an emotionally and politically charged topic.  At one point our tour guide paused to regain her composure and all I could hear were children as they laughed and played on the playground. It is amazing and a little unnerving to see how life continues here.  It is amazing to see the resilience of the human spirit in action.

Children at play on the kibbutz playground minutes away from
the gaza strip and seconds away from potential rocket fire

After leaving Sha'ar Hangev, I couldn't get the idea of intentional living out of my head.  It is one of the things that has struck me most about daily life in Israel - not just near the the gaza strip or the west bank but throughout the country.  People seem to truly be living each day, compelled by the constant reality of death and danger.  I am now a week and a half into an extension program with Livnot U'Lehibanot - which in hebrew means to build and be built.  I have been volunteering and learning in an orthodox jewish community which is an experience all together new to me.  Again I am struck with the existence of daily intention, this time in a religious form. My amazing coordinators (who I feel honored to now call friends) pray three times a day and before every meal.  I am in awe of their dedication and commitment to their beliefs.  Many of them even practice shomer negiah (guarding touch) which means they are saving their touch for their current or future spouse and do not touch anyone else of the opposite sex who is not a family member. Once again, this is a way of life that I can never envision myself participating in, but in their absolute commitment to their personal beliefs, they have my deepest respect.

Our fearless coordinator, Yifat,
 making challah for shabbat

These instances of intentional living inspired me last week to do a 12 hour speech fast as way to exercise more intention into my own daily life. It was truly a wonderful experience. I have a desire to listen more, talk less, and make sure that my words are spoken more for the benefit of others than myself. I realized after the fact that it was my first time fasting or restricting myself in any meaningful or purposeful way. I intentionally chose to restrict one of my most natural and comforting forms of communication and it was interesting to see how it changed my interactions with those around me. There were moments when I felt silly surrounded by my peers – the only one not speaking, but they were beyond supportive.  I am incredibly grateful to my new friends in the Livnot program for giving me the safe space to experiment and try this out.  It has definitely added more weight to my awareness of the power of my words and I am so excited to continue incorporating intention into my life in new and meaningful ways. 

Tikkun Olam

There is another concept that has left a deep impression on me while in Israel and that is the Jewish concept of Tikkun Olam - repairing the world.  There is this idea in Judaism that it is our duty as human beings to perform mitzvahs or acts of kindness and that these acts elevate us, drawing us closer to the most authentic and selfless version of ourselves. The world we live in today is deeply suffering and deeply in need of healing and a greater commitment to selflessness.  Being in this country and hearing the stories of daily violence, fear, anger, and misunderstanding has only made it more apparent to me.   For someone committed to compromise and love, this country poses a huge challenge and my time here has uncovered far more questions than answers. I am amazed at the realities I am discovering and at times incredibly overwhelmed by the issues at hand - the polarized ideologies that turn people to us vs them mentality. In spite of this, the stark reality of these issues only strengthens my resolve  to do what I can, where I can, when I can  to make this world a better place. Tikkun olam – repairing the world.   In this concept I have found the theme of my trip and I truly want to dedicate the next few months, and perhaps my entire life, to this idea.  I want to take personal responsibility and personal action to leave this world better than I found it.  At every turn I want to contribute light and goodness to the proverbial melting pot. I know there is only so much one person can do, but I find comfort in knowing that I am not meant to do it all.

The city of Tzfat