sheilaklewis on Once in a Blue Moon Once in a Blue Moon… on Once in a Blue Moon sheilaklewis on Enough, Already sheilaklewis on Enough, Already AJ on Enough, Already
There really is a “blue moon,” every year around this time. In India, the appearance of the fullest moon in the fullness of summer, is celebrated on the holiday Guru Purnima, which is today. I started my day teaching meditation, then attended a sublimely musical and meditative program at the first place I learned to meditate (Siddha Yoga Center), had lunch with dear friends, and then got on line to work. I took some time out (procrastinatorily, but enjoyably) to catch up on blogs and emails.
I recommend you bring color and imagination into your day by visiting the blog of conceptual artist/painter/writer AJ Atwater http://www.AJAtwater.com. This one is worth it. I met Minnesotan AJ at JCC’s morning meditation; she started coming to New York twice a year to paint and imbibe the city’s creative juices. The blue moon of creativity shines through AJ’s art. I wish you all an expanded day. Here’s a “Blue Moon” meditation you can try:
1.If you have clear skies (sorry, urban dwellers in dense spaces), wait until dark. Gaze at the moon. See its luminous light, brilliant against a dark sky. This can work in your mind’s eye, too.
2.Make a wish upon the moon. Ask for brightness to illuminate a dark or gray area in your life. On Guru Purnima, there is extra celestial power. Or, just enjoy the energies and feel what they bring into your being.
“At some point, the world’s beauty becomes enough,” (Toni Morrison).
I was walking around the quadrangle behind my mom’s building at the Senior Living Center. Marked by posts with how many steps walked and upbeat nature quotes, Morrison’s quote lifted my depressive morning mind from its usual abyss of careless worries. The word “enough” is fullness without complaint. When we push our plates away, and say “Enough,” we have chose fulfillment over excess.
As the agreeability of this planned nature walk shifts my restless thoughts from the waffling “what ifs” of youth to the wise acceptances of “mature” age, I think of my mom’s own mental transformation. She has no tolerance for complainers, as “life is too short.” She has learned to look on the brighter side of things. Her cronies at the picturesque senior complex on Long Island’s North Shore, are similarly upbeat. A self-selected group, they do not readily invite newcomers into their dining circle, as there are “enough of us already,” meaning people who are “positive, like us.”
If we look at our values as individuals, we each have to find that enough place inside, and set aside the pulls of family or a materially ambitious culture. When financial gain above or exclusive of all else is the driving value, enough-ness will elude us. A contemplative process such as the one below may help us feel at ease and satisfied with “enough, already.” With pen and paper at your side, try this:
1.Close your eyes. Take a few deep breaths, inhaling from the belly and letting it puff out. Pause before exhaling all air and drawing the belly in towards the back. Repeat a few times until you feel a shift, an interior spaciousness or stillness.
2.For a few minutes, scan your day or week for times you felt grateful, rewarded, or appreciative. Focus on one or two of those experiences and how it feels. Sit with positive or neutral feelings, even if they seem forced or trivial. Notice if it is hard to stay there. What resists “enough?” What welcomes it? Breathe fully as you let these feelings come and go.
3.Gently shift towards acceptance of what is without complaint or story. Be open to having a sense of “enough” as a base or foundation, even if that enough’s only a faint sliver or glimmer of awareness. Open your eyes and journal or take notes.
What simple action or shift in attitude can I take to feel that I have enough right now in my life? Or, as Catherine Ponder writes, “I am rich in mind and manifestation now.”
Nostalgia’s vague presence settles over me as I recall visiting my Dad at work in the Cooper Square offices of the New Hermes Engraving Machine Company decades ago. This weekend marks his yahrzeit; he died four years ago after the Jewish fast day Tisha B’av, which commemorates the destruction of the Temple. The children of Israel sank to an all time spiritual low, but a glimmer of hope redeems them at the end. Moses (Moshe) also speaks from his near deathbed as we start reading the fifth book of the Torah. My Dad, Morris Kaufman, was also a Moshe. His words come to me in images of his beloved Village (East and Greenwich, that is). This one’s for him: In the chill heat, July blankets the city like a warm snow. Passengers underground spread their gloomy cheer in shrill conversations with their devices. The subway is no cocoon. Stepping outside, the mind creates a cloudy mirror, a mirage of possibility, turning the day in its favor. I select its delights, ignoring the tiny giant cracks in the baked sidewalks along Eighth Street. Ramen shops have replaced the tattoo parlors and earring emporiums of my youth. The Bohemian hipsters look too affluent to be authentic. Iced tea is $4, Lattes $5. Oatmeal with chia seeds, $9. Morris, a salesman and artist, took us for $5 blintz lunches at the Ukrainian Restaurant and to sidewalk art shows. Today’s gentrified Village might jar him but also appeal to his urban sensibility and artistic scrutiny. Where have all the starving artists gone? What’s that monstrosity on the Bowery? What idiot spends $5 on coffee? Who do you remember? What is there legacy to you in all its complexities?
If you have ever had pain (who hasn’t), you may have tried two techniques to “get rid of it” with some degree of failure. Either you deify the pain, that is, really get into it, inviting others to join in your pity party, or you defy it, ignoring or distracting yourself from it, soldiering on. This is true of all kinds of pain, but it’s more obvious to see with physical pain.
As someone who has endured pain from klutzy accidents not entirely “my fault,” I’ve found that no singular approach works. A combination of time release “pain meditations” helps. If you have fallen, say, and fractured your fifth metatarsal as I did six months ago, defying pain is not so good. Conscious, grounded awareness on how to move and what makes the pain better or worse, is what’s called for. On the plus side, such an accident allows us to tune in with greater sensitivity. Bossing people around or complaining as a pain deifer is not so good either as we risk magnetizing pain’s grip on us, and feeling more pain instead of less.
Here’s a pain meditation that can strike the right balance. Try a gentle dose:
Assume a relaxed and comfortable posture that allows for ease of breathing. Close your eyes and take a few deep breaths, breathing in “space” and breathing out “tension.” Notice and feel the area of pain, but without dwelling on it too much. Give it some space. Do this mentally and visually, nudging it to shift its shape just a bit.
Ask the pain what it needs, and be open to any answers or a well of silence. Perhaps the painful area needs a little massage, a certain vitamin or cream, or to be surrounded by golden light or the soothing sound of music. When ready, open your eyes and follow through on your promise to pain, without defying or deifying it. Be sensible in giving it what it wants. So, how do you deal with pain?
Meditation purists might cringe at the notion of meditating for a tangible result other than inner peace or calm. But with age comes more practicality. Sometimes calm or the absence of upset is fine, but often the opposite of that is what’s needed. In her fine and thoughtful book, Introvert Power: Why Your Inner Life Is Your Hidden Strength, author Laurie Helgoe makes a strong case for temperament on the introvert/extrovert spectrum. I build on that by saying that, depending on your temperament, circumstances, or blend of personality factors, intrinsic and extrinsic motivation are valuable for different reasons and results.
How does intrinsic motivation arise in meditation? Assuming we’ve already relaxed our body/mind/spirit the usual ways—breathing, letting go, etc.—we can direct our awareness to subtle or persistent thoughts, remnants of mind’s activity. Tune into the ones that are vaguely unsettling. Should they be attended to before going for the calm? Sometimes there is an insight, a creative urge, or a must do nudge in an area of mundane life, like health or work. These are intrinsic motivators. We can act upon them now—as in the case of a burning house or heart attack—or later. We can jot down the “laters” in a notepad by our meditation seat, and then continue to meditate in peace.
How does extrinsic motivation work in meditation? As author Helgoe and others have stated, we are living in an extroverted culture. We are connecting with others when plugged into our electronic devices (however superficially), and spend less time engaged in deep introspection and quiet reflection. How many of us check our email or cell phone pings as we write? I believe that extrinsic motivation can lead us to the exhaustive collapse we call “meditation,” usually at the end of a long day, often as a reward. We unwind and unplug to recharge from working so hard and caring for others. Meditating after strenuous feats, like mountain climbing or meeting a brutal deadline, is sublime. External motivation leads us to an internal process: restful, restorative meditation.
If you can easily still your mind and balance your energy in meditation, then ignore the above and go for it. If you need an aid or boost, then try this:
1.Start your practice the usual ways. Sit comfortably, close your eyes, and take a few deep breaths. Let go as best you can by watching your thoughts come and go.
2.If silence or stillness does not come upon you after some time, notice if a persistent thought or subtle sensation wants attention. Do not force yourself to let it go until you’ve sat with it for a bit. Let it speak, then let it go. If that fails, write it down and resume meditation. Feel yourself relax or become more still. Take a few deep breaths before coming out of meditation.
I’d love to hear your thoughts, intrinsically or extrinisically.