excuse me sir, there's past in this present!

"I can go outside and pick up a rock as old as the oldest song you know and bring it back here and drop it on your foot. The past didn't go anywhere, did it? It's right here. It's right now..." ~Utah Phillips


We are often told that we need to let the past go and try our best to live in the present moment. I agree with that. We can't allow what happened in the past to stop us from moving forward with our lives; trying something new; being something new.

At the same time, I also agree with what Utah Phillips has to say about the past, "it's right here. it's right now." 

How can it be that we both leave the past behind and simultaneously it's right here and right now.

In following metaphor he offers a concept of the past I hadn't thought of before:

"Time is an enormous long river and I'm standing in it, just as you're standing in it. My elders were the tributaries and everything they thought and every struggle they went through and everything they gave their lives to and every song they created and every poem that they laid down flows down to me. And if I take the time to ask and if I take the time to seek, if I take the time to reach out I can build that bridge between my world and theirs. I can reach down into that river and take out what I need to get through this world. Bridges from my time to your time, as my elders from their time to my time. And we will put into the river and we let it go and it flows away from us and away from us 'til it no longer has our name and our identity. It has its own utility; its own use. And people will take what they need and make it part of their lives." ~Utah Phillips

Traditionally we think of time in a linear sense. Linear time moves from point a to point b. The 1980s to the 1990s to the 2000s, etc. In this view of time, I am a point that moves from one moment to the next to the next along a (time)line. 

In Phillips' river analogy, however, I am a stationary point or vertical line, and time is the thing that moves. It is a field that moves through us and around us. 

Can you picture a vast river of all experiences, collective karma as it were, spread out around you, flowing to you, through you, and then from you, on to the next one? 

From our point in the river we have access to all else that has ever been. We only need to "reach out", as he says, for those experiences that are useful to us in our lives. Reusing and renewing them. We give them our own meaning and they become ours (for a time). And what is ours also flows down that vast river, ready to be scooped up by someone standing further downstream.

This image shows me the power of the past that we hold in our hands in this very moment. Our lives are folk songs once sung by our elders, now sung by me (albeit off key), and on to our children.

So let us not deny or forget the past, let us use it as a tool in our present.

Love,
R

what is my gift?

~ Leonard Cohen

Only from the careful and ongoing deconstruction of our selves can we bring anything true, honest, and helpful to the world and our fellow humans. 

Each time I judge my personality as worthless, uninteresting, friendly, kind, spiritual, smart, special, different, inherently bad or inherently good, I must try to catch myself and remember that I am not a personality. I am not what I think I am presenting to the world. In fact, my very perception of myself as a personality is taking me out of the connection I have with my real (capital) Self.

If I then shed those already threadbare layers of words I have been identifying with, discarding them glibly like a towel tossed in a laundry pile, I can come back to focus. 

The focus is not to make myself into something. That would be a fruitless endeavour. That is, again, in the realm of personality.

The focus is a quality of being. This quality of being is known in my body already. I know it as that which feels good. That which feels right. 

As I focus, I allow that quality of being to grow within me and then allow it to flow from me/through me into what I am doing. 

Therefore the focus is to know what I already am. To ground myself there.

It doesn't matter so much what action arises out of that grounding. Implicit in the action will be my unique gift.

The gift is given through me to the world as the one and only thing of value I can offer. Quite simply, I am all I have to give.

My job in life is to toss aside artifice and give the most of mySelf that I can.

That is what those lines mean to me:

From bitter searching of the heart

we rise to play a greater part.

Love,

R

a conversation with my body

I really have been to that place where I love everybody. Lately I am there more and more often.

But today I am not there. I feel kind of out of sorts and that really bothers me because I really like to feel happy. So I go about the business of searching for the feeling so I can feel it and in feeling it let it go.

I sit quietly and ask my body what it wants. It says, "sugar." 

"OK, are you hungry?"

"No"

"Are you low on energy?"

"No"

"What are you really feeling that you are trying to sugar-coat?"

"Anxiety."

"Please tell me more."

"I feel a bit lost and I want to reassure myself. Hold myself and tell myself it's OK. I want to feel safe."

"You are safe. Remember how safe you felt yesterday?"

"Yes, I remember but today everything feels different."

"How so?"

"Today I feel frustrated at some people. I feel like they aren't respecting me the way they should. I feel like they are in a bad mood and want to take me down with them. Why can't they see the effect they are having on me?"

"The question is why are you letting yourself be affected? You know these relationships are mirrors. Darling, what is really troubling you?"

"I'm tired today and the house is a mess and everything is feeling a little out of control."

"And that is why you feel others have control over you right now."

"Yes, I can see that."

"Breathe. You are going to be OK."

"I am OK."

"Yes, you are."

...

...

...

"Now, release control entirely."

"Bless this mess."

Love,

R

dear rikki, please remember this if you ever doubt

http://www.elephantjournal.com/2013/10/i-am-you-a-message-from-a-writer/

"I, in humility" write this little note

This is a practice I got into, I don't even know how, during a yoga practice a while back.

It is so easy to get caught up in the chattering of the ego - the voice in my head that tries to convince me to judge myself and other people, to compete, to be perfect, to act a certain way, etc etc. 

I notice this in my yoga practice when I feel a bit wobbly in tree pose or my standing leg is burning through the longest balancing sequence known to God or man! The mind goes "come on, you could do this yesterday!" and "if you can't even do tree pose what kind of yogi are you?"

One day, out of nowhere really, I started to repeat what has become a mantra for me in my yoga practice and now in my life. I find that it quickly brings me back to my centre essentially by returning me to my sense of humour and lightness. 

This mantra goes, "I, in humility"

That's it, there is no ending to the sentence in words. It is given meaning by the action I am doing. For example, "I, in humility" *stand on one leg and look upwards*. "I, in humility" *attempt this unthinkable feat of strength in my burning leg*. 

Or, "I, in humility" *type these words*. "I, in humility" *attempt to communicate with the person I am with*.

When I invite humility into my practice with these words I am reminded that I am human, both strong and flawed. Perfect and vulnerable. Thoughtful and playful. 

I find that the result is usually first that I laugh at myself for taking myself so seriously. Then I am less hard on myself, my mind stops racing, and magically, whatever I'm doing becomes 100% easier and more enjoyable. It's like shrugging my shoulders and saying, "so what, I'm only human."

Why do I bring this up? 

Good question... I am searching for the answer...

I suppose I am bringing it up because in my own journey of personal growth, I am finding that there is a vast difference between sharing your own experience with someone and speaking from a soapbox, advising them of what they should do. I have been on both ends. I have both given and received unsolicited advice.

If I am being really truthful and honest with myself, I know only one thing about you. I know nothing about your history, your spiritual path, your desires, the other people in your life, all of the moving parts and endless dialogues you may or may not be running in your own mind. Even if you've told me, I can't know what it's like to be you.

The one and only thing that I know about you is that you are the same as me.You are a dynamic bundle of energy, growing, shifting, looking around all the time for the next experience, great or small. If I allow myself the pleasure of standing back and looking at (capital) You, what I will see is utter beauty unfolding before my eyes. I will see an incredible capacity to form opinions, make decisions, take action, be wise, exhibit qualities I didn't know you had, be unpredictable, and most of all, be human. 

To give advice from a soap box is to miss seeing that truth and beauty. 

So in my interaction with you I wish to stay in my humility, because only from there can I see the truth of the radiant being you are. 

When I apply the mantra to my interaction with you, "I, in humility" trust and know that you will find all the answers you seek; you will get where you are going; you are ok. The I who is in humility sees things as they are. 

"I, in humility" watch you dazzle the night sky with your shining light. "I, in humility" recognize the light that also shines from within me. "I, in humility" exist in this world as the only thing I know how to be ....me ...not you ...Me.

Love,
R

"I know I need my instrument but does my instrument need to be mic'd?"

It's official. I've been outed.

My friends and family now know the dirty little secret I've been keeping tucked in the darkness of my inner life for all of these years....

and I feel...afraid.

Yes folks, I like to write. I need to write. If the words don't get to the page they gradually suffocate me.

So with the start of this blog I've begun to breathe again, after many years. But there is something different this time. This time other people can...well, they can ...see...it...

Which brings me to these words from a song by Ani DiFranco:

"thinking maybe I'm just standing here

because I want to be liked

yes, I know I need my instrument

but does my instrument need to be mic'd?"

I know I need to write, but does it need to be on display for all to see?

I have struggled with this one a lot (understatement) and it really comes down to a feeling I can't quite put my finger on of ....completion? It's like the words are conceived in my brain and take form through my fingers and they need somewhere to go; they need to be born into the world.

Like exposing a wound to the air so that it can heal.

This brings me to my fear around hearing the opinions of others about my exposed wounds/newborn babies. What if the external manifestation of this is enough to change it for me on an internal level? What if I begin to write for all the wrong reasons?

This little doozy was running all over my mind during my yoga practice today. But I found, as I let the fear come through me and settle in pieces all around my mat, that when I came back to the breath, there I was. The same Me. The eternal Me. The Me that is "independent of the good opinion of others" (Wayne Dyer).

That Me doesn't change because of anything anyone says.

I might get scared, but that doesn't mean I stop. It means I recognize that fear as thoughts in my head and feelings in my body and I return as soon as I can to my inner home. If I write from my inner home I will maintain my clarity of purpose. Things will occur for the right reasons, and fulfillment, peace and joy will be in the realm of the soul as it sings its music.

Wayne Dyer also says, "don't die with your music still inside of you." So here I am, flailing and caterwauling, a baby magpie learning its tune.

Love, 
R

I'm no Buddhist Vegan Yogi Pacifist Idealist Left-wing Hipster, and I politely decline to be categorized

Yes, another rant about not conforming to labels.

But I am honestly finding a need to draw a dotted line in my life between what people are saying I am and what I actually am. So herewith my little manifesto...

What I actually am is so simple and clear, whilst not really being easy to define in words. 

I am spirit

I am raw experience

leading edge stuff

I am the listener

I am the being who seeks 

I am so large that I am actually part of you and you and you

and I am a facet of that wholeness looking at itself

I am 

just me.


Don't you feel that too when you sit quietly with yourself?

I feel very uncomfortable and anxious when defined categorically as any of the above or etc. and I think that this is because I have glimpsed my true self and I know it to be so much more than a string of labels.

So when I go to a restaurant and my companion announces proudly to the server that I am a vegan, my heart kind of reaches out its fist and strangles me before my mouth can go into any explanation of the particularities of my food choices and how they relate to what meal I might be ordering that night. 

I am NOT a vegan. If I tell you that I am a vegan, it is merely for convenience sake, lest I launch into the truths I've come to know that have led me to make this choice or that one and you, zoning out in boredom, come to conclude anyway that I am a vegan, albeit with some weird fundamentalist beliefs that nevertheless make me feel I have to defend myself in the face of that accusation.

I do eat eggs, for your information, but only when I either know the chickens, or the chickens are friends of a friend. 

I am opposed to consuming another's suffering.

I will also turn a blind eye sometimes when chocolate is involved if I think that the chocolate will nourish me more than fundamentalism will in that given moment. (sometimes fundamentalism does win, but it's really on a case to case basis.)

And I enjoy honey! I have a couple of sweaters made of wool and 2 pairs of leather shoes, purchased before I read about some of the practices involved with producing these materials (don't worry, I say a little prayer of gratitude each time I wear them...no joke). I also wear silk. It gets to the point where we are splitting hairs and I lose all interest.

The essence of what I am saying, using the example of my diet, is that in any decision I make these days, whether about food or politics or spirituality, I hold that choice up to my heart's eye, like a little pearl, and turn it around, feeling its weight, its unique texture, its particular shade. I allow my mind to weigh in with some opinions it might have and then when the knowing is there in my heart I move forward. 

I think this is another way of describing intuition.

I will, therefore, not be bound by the label 'vegan' to eat in a certain way, or to make 'difficult choices' like whether or not to eat honey, or wear wool, or all of the numerous fundamentalisms I can get shoved into if I subscribe to that category.

I will not be found making statements like, "hey guys, I'm a vegan so can we eat somewhere that serves vegan food?" I rather stick to, "let's go anywhere you enjoy because I can always find something on the menu I like!" (p.s. I LOVE food!)

I will never never never call myself a Buddhist or Christian or Yogi, because all those labels mean to me are that I couldn't be bothered figuring out the truth within so I will subscribe to someone else's truth. However, I will save a rant about religion for another day (or maybe I will give it a miss...)

I am not saying that great and profound wisdom doesn't come from Buddha or Patanjali or John Robbins (author of my favourite pro-vegan book The Food Revolution). These teachings are tools that allow us to see and know. 

We can pick up each little pearl of wisdom we find amongst the sand and hold it to the light of our soul to see if our own image is reflected back to us in the radiant opalescence there.

We can wander blithely along the beach uncovering pearls, gathering them, admiring them, leaving one behind here or there, all the while keeping our vision turned up toward the horizon. 

Love,
R

"If I cannot dictate the conditions of my labour I will henceforth cease to work:" a loving meditation on my job

I am a corporate slave. 

However, as my bum sits in the ergonomically designed chair behind the ergonomically designed computer desk, designed thusly in the recognition that the bum was not meant to withstand such violent lethargy for 8 hours each day, my mind is mostly free to wander (little mental engagement is needed for such tedious and inconsequential data entry).

It wanders many places, but as suggested by my last post, of late it's been exploring the idea of purpose. Purpose. Clearly, my job is not my (capital P) Purpose, which is the inspired action where internal purpose and external purpose merge. My job is an external purpose. That purpose being, of course, to make some money to fulfill other external purposes. My point is not to complain.

I recently dug up a CD done by Ani DiFranco with the words of Utah Phillips (The Past Didn't go Anywhere, 1996, Righteous Babe Records Inc). Phillips was a self-identified anarchist, a beautiful speaker and poet. His unique way of looking at societal structures is really blowing my mind and I am meditating on the following recollection from Phillips of a conversation he had with someone who we would consider to be on the fringes of society.

"...And that's where he said to me (he'd been tramping since 1927), he said, 'I told myself in '27, if I cannot dictate the conditions of my labour I will henceforth cease to work.' You don't have to go to college to figure these things out. He said, 'I learned when I was young that the only true life I have is the life of my brain. But if it's true that the only true life I have is the life of my brain, what sense does it make to hand that brain to somebody for 8 hours a day for their particular use on the presumption that at the end of the day they will give it back in an unmutilated condition? Fat chance!'"

It made me think of this article I read in the Sydney Morning Herald a few weeks back about the "modern phenomenon of nonsense jobs."

What are these statements pointing to? Where is it all going? What does it mean? And why am I bringing it up?

These statements point to the recognition that there is something fundamentally wrong with the way much of the world operates. Because, why did I come into this human body? To valiantly serve this corporation in whom I own no stakes and to whose values I am vehemently opposed?

And where is it going? Well, it is going towards a shift. And that shift is on the level of me.

What does it mean? It means I am responsible for the freedom of my own mind and, in time, for the freedom of my own body. 

Of course, I bring this up because, lest I be a lethargic bum on an ergonomic chair, maybe I can start contributing to society in some meaningful way.

Love,

R

where do my internal and external purpose meet?: Inspired Action

I'm new to blogs...(yes, I've been living under a rock) but one of my recent favourites is by a guy called Ben Riggs. He discusses many different topics related to spirituality and has a beautiful way of using words to point to the truth.

The following is an absolute doozy of a composition (meant in a totally awestruck sort of way) and I would love to share it.

http://refugegroupbr.blogspot.com.au/2013/10/organic-spirituality.html

I love to read and re-read (especially) the beginning of this piece and carefully unfold each delicate layer.

Here is what Riggs writes:


 "There is a manner of living pre-ordained by my whole person. 

This manner of living is intuited in the body and this intuition is rendered at the level of consciousness as a journey. 

When the map is written in symbols which relate to the immediacy of my incarnation—the unfolding of my Being into the present moment—then the journey is first and foremost an inner-journey, reflected in the world I live in.

When the map is written in signs, which fail to point past their obvious meaning, the journey is seen as some sort of obligation to the external world."

Here Riggs eloquently defines the difference between Eckhart Tolle's "internal" and "external" purposes. The "whole person" he refers to is the being that extends beyond the physical. The bundle of karma of many lives, or Deepak Chopra's "Listener" (turn your attention to who is listening). The pure energy (capital) You. 

There is, of course, a way to live in alignment with You. You will know you're there when you feel the inspiration. Everything falls into place. There is an undeniable sense of well-being. 

I love how Riggs brings the physical body into this equation with "intuition". It is as if you can FEEL in your body what is in alignment with You and what is not. And can't you? If you really pay attention to physical feelings in your body aren't they saying things like "I can trust this person," or "don't walk down that dark alley," or "time now to rest and rejuvenate," or "don't eat that second piece of cake"? I love the depth of purpose this affords the body. (Like, oh shit, now I know why I have feelings!)

When we live in the "immediacy of [our] incarnation", (i.e. the present moment, or rather, when we are conscious) our soul sings its purpose into the realm of the manifest. We are "tuned in, tapped in, turned on" (Abraham-Hicks) and our inner purpose is reflected naturally into/as our external purpose. If we start at the end (external) and work backwards (to find 'meaning') our soul is bound in clumsy physical chains.

As someone who has spent her whole life 'trying to find my purpose,' these words are healing beyond measure. Who knew that all I need to do is be (capital) Me.

Love,

R