Coach Aruni

Life~Works Mindfulness Coaching

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Tis the Season

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Tis the Season

Tis the season.

I’ve been wondering about this season.

Tis the season—for what, exactly?

Are there secret elves on our rooftops, cranking up the excite-o-meter, getting us mere mortals even more frenzied than we already are?

Is life not enough right now, with truth blurring into lies and lies becoming truth, to keep us internally agitated and vibrating?

Are there secret elves conspiring, along with reality, to take us out before Santa’s sled lands?

If ever there were a time to reframe, to realign, to recommit to the internal experience, rather than to submit to the over-culture’s assumptive, expectation-ridden, marketing-driven interpretation of the holidays—this is the time!

Let’s take the holidays back.

Let’s claim them for ourselves.

Let’s look inside and find our values, our meaning, our understanding of the season, and live into them, from inside, out.

Let’s consider—what is this season for, for you?

To what do you choose to commit, in this auspicious time, as the light is squeezed from the day, as the returning light still hovers, just out of reach?

From inside, out—what do you choose?

I choose kindness.

I choose kindness, first to myself.  

It is not comfortable, I am not comfortable, cozying up with my loneliness. 

It is not comfortable, I am not comfortable, being a woman, an aging woman finding my way forward alone.

Speaking of assumptions and expectations, I thought I knew, even within the narrative of my somewhat radical life, what It would look like, “It” meaning my moment, my reality, my future.

Nope.  I have no clue.

How I want to know!

How I want to put my life into some paradigm, some footprint, some format that makes sense of it, that pre-determines is evolution, it’s unfolding.

Nope.  There is none.

I choose to be kind to my loneliness.

I choose to befriend my heartbreak.

I choose to be kind to myself.

~~~

Secondly, I choose to be kind to you.

When I begin to look around, scouting hungrily for the source of my discomfort, for the being whose mere presence and actions have caused my feelings, I am walking on oh, such thin ice.

It is too damn easy to make my moments to be about you; deflection is such a profound and effective smokescreen, that does not ultimately work.

I choose to be kind to you.

No matter what my mind might make up, no matter the juicy narrative I have created to explain You as The Source (quickly followed by, “If only you did ___, I would be comfortable.”)  That is slippery!

Slippery.

Ineffective.

Part of the problem.

The solution?

Kindness to you.

No matter what.

As best I can.  

Unconditional kindness.

And when I can’t, whenever I can’t, because that is inevitable, then self-kindness flows in.

~~~

And finally, I choose to bring kindness to us.

To all.

In the midst of the calamity of this moment, the deception, the lack of morality, the baseless evil of this moment, how can I begin to find a place for myself in which to inhabit?

Kindness is the doorway.

I don’t know that I can do it.

And I don’t know how to do it.

But I believe it is the only way–

I don’t know that I can be kind to the mean, the misogynist, the heartless, the vain—yet I imagine my pushing them away somehow prohibits me from seeing those parts in my self.

Rejecting them inevitably equals rejecting myself.

As best as I can, one breath at a time, I choose to bring kindness to us, all.

“`

Okay, Aruni, all good ideas.  Loving-kindness, to self, to other, to all.

How does one practice?

How in the blazes do we do this impossible, this leap of faith into the void of compassionate kindness?

Metta meditation is loving-kindness 

To self.

To other.

To all.

We practice.

We just practice.

Here is a track I recorded over a decade ago, for my guided meditation album.  This track is called, “Cultivating Loving-Kindness.”  Please join me in this ten-minute practice.  And please, if it resonates with you, use it. Take it.  Weave it into your day.

Let’s practice.

Cultivating Loving-Kindness http://bit.ly/2PfVNJn

 

“`

Dear Friends,

May we honor the darkness, 

Both outside and in.

May we lean toward the light 

And relax,

Assured 

Of its return.

All blessings,
Aruni

Thanksgiving Sucked

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Thanksgiving Sucked

I ask you, is this sacrilegious to proclaim?  

Of course not!  

It truly sucked.  

That’s the truth of it.  

And that’s the lesson and gift of it, too.

Zac the Dog flew away to dance in the heavens on Sunday during a big teaching weekend for me.  

Of course.  Of course, I would be teaching, the worker bee that I am.

Then I got a massive cold.

Of course I did.

I toughed it out, working till the holiday.

Of course.

By Thursday I was bed-ridden, plans cancelled, remote control bungeed to my dominant hand, sleeping and weeping and flicking Netflix options, rooting for and wildly changing allegiance for different candidates on the Great British Baking Show and waking up on a pile of dirty tissues, knowing everybody in the world was cuddling with their canines and their lovers and assuring myself I would never again smile, get out of bed, or even consider putting the remote control down.

It got bleak.  Then it got bleaker yet.

You gotta know, I am generally and constitutionally somewhat positive.  A nice-Jewish-girl-in-college-hippy-child-of-the-sixties, I have a solid buoyant-ness that has served me.

My buoyancy got up and bounced on without me on Thanksgiving.

(Except for my dark, morose side, which I just remembered!  In high school, I penned this poem on my binder: I fall upon the thorns of life…..I bleed!

Back to Thanksgiving—

Midday I struggled out of bed, a cough drop wrapper literally stuck to my cheek, finding my sea legs, gingerly made my way downstairs.

Miracle of miracles, I started reaching out to friends, via text and email.

Miracle of miracles, I started reading the emails I got back.

Miracle of miracles, I started writing.

Miracle of miracles, my landlady brought me chicken soup.

Miracle of miracles, I changed my pajamas.  

Miracle of miracles, my self-pity melted into grief.

Miracle of miracles, I felt shitty and so much better.

I felt heartbroken but not victimized.  

I felt untethered but not self-doubting.

I felt alone but not deserted.

I felt physically ill but not the horrible-imagined—a-fatality-disease-of-fantasy-land-what’s-going-to-happen.

And—what a miracle, in the midst of a sinus headache bigger than Berkshire County, a running nose unstoppable in its liquid mission—a wave of quiet gratitude sweep over me.

Gratitude for what, I wondered?

Here’s my list.

  • I am grateful for— life exactly as it is
  • I am grateful for—my dearest and most extraordinary canine companion, Zac Joe Doodle and all he offers me (present tense intentional)
  • I am grateful for—my willingness to live sober and not dash to the line at Theory Wellness, the fancy cannabis store, a stone’s throw from the pile of tissues clogging my bathrobe pocket
  • I am grateful for—my capacity, no matter what I’m feeling, to open the blank page of my computer and face myself
  • I am grateful for— each one of you, because without you, I would not be facing myself, I would not be writing as I am
  • I am grateful for—for every single moment of my marriage
  • I am grateful for—for every single moment of my love affair
  • I am grateful for—every Christmas tree looking at me from the Christmas tree farm across the road
  • I am grateful for— this moment, as it is.

I realized that snotty, sneezy afternoon that gratitude does not rely on upon feelings, that I could feel uber-crappy and still be profoundly grateful.  

I never had that experience before!

A Thanksgiving miracle?

Sans pumpkin pie?

Please check out this four-minute video:

How did I even find this video?  It found me. A Love Song to the World by Empty Hands Music is part of an international movement to share uplifting songs for life, love, and expansion.

Not a bad idea!  

Not a bad practice.

Gratitude in the midst of real-life……..

Give me the courage,
The willingness,
And the strength
To focus on 
What is,
Not
What 
Isn’t.

Help me
To see
Your Grace
In 
All 
Things,

No matter 
What 
I 
Am 
Feeling.

~~~

Thanks, dear friends, for the outpouring of love and response you had to Zac’s blog.  Your words are so kind, so comforting. I will keep them forever in my heart.

I think Zac might have shattered some record for the volume of response to an on-line-canine-written-blog!  

Word has it, He is right here, loving us and taking care of us.  

I choose to believe that.

To a day of gratitude, no matter what we are feeling.

All blessings,
Aruni

From Zac Joseph Doodle

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From Zac Joseph Doodle

I’m a dog and I’m writing my mom’s blog.  Things are happening inside her nose, a cold, is that the word?

She is very sad.

Sometimes stuff just happens inside our bodies’ pieces and parts.

I’m dead but I’m very much alive, too.  And because I’m dead and alive at the same time,  I wanted to remind you of some things.  You funny and silly people, you work so hard at such easy stuff, like breathing, like relaxing, like letting go.  

I want to remind you about what’s important, stuff like moving your body and fun and people you love and good, yummy treats.  Oh! Bunnies. Bunnies smell so good. What smells good to you? Go toward that smell.

Here’s my list, what’s been important to me, Zac Joe Doodle, the dead-and-alive dog:

  • Watching the wind come and go, as it dances around the yard.
  • Feeling the changes in the warmth of the sun on your furry head when it creeps and crosses the sky.
  • Seeing the shift in light as the day opens, peaks and slowly, slowly fades.
  • Sitting next to the people you love so much more than anything, even bunnies—maybe touching their foot with your whiskers, your hindquarters against their side.
  • Resting your head against your favorite toy, fun stuff can be so comforting, and hold us up so perfectly.
  • Repeated patterns, ritual, the deep and warm knowing that dinner time will come as the light darkens, or when the car door slams, that most wonderful person in the universe is coming toward you again and again and again.
  • Loving those special people, our people, as fully, as best, as wholly and truly as we can—human ambivalence irrelevant, banished—going for it, lean into loving.
  • Having people who love you so much they are willing and able to help you leave this earth—that’s how much they love you.
  • Being able to support and love your peoples, even when they split up and break your heart, even and especially when they break their own hearts.
  • Letting each moment be as it is—if it’s that nasty next-door neighbor dumb-dog barking at me, if it’s one of their stupid chickens walking on my lawn, letting each moment be. 

Oh, there are many things I loved about being alive, especially my mommies.  I had two mommies, that’s how special a dog I am.

I won’t be watching the wind—I am the wind.

I won’t be feeling the warmth of the sun—I am the sun.

I won’t be lying on the porch, my porch, legs crossed, watching the light in the day.

I am the light in the day.

And I won’t hear my mommies’ car door slam anymore. 

I won’t be barking and running around in glee because they are coming in the door.

I am deep inside my mommies’ hearts.

I am my mommies’ hearts.

I live there.

I told my Mommy Aruni to pay attention, to watch me, to see how I surrender, how I will leave, how I let life be.

I tell you all now, pay attention—don’t waste time working too-too much.  Don’t waste time wanting life to be different. Don’t waste time worrying.

Relax and breathe.  Nap on the sofa. Look out the window.

Listen for the sound of your loved-one’s car driving down the road, their footsteps on the porch, how they smile at you.

Smile back.

Pay attention.

Smile back.

Live into this moment.

I told my mommies I would live until I die.

I did that.

You guys, do that, too!

Don’t’ sit around and wait.

Live into your life.

Savor the lessons.  

It’s all coming to bless you.

And if you need help, just call for me.

I’m right here.

I’m your friend,
Zac Joe Doodle the Dog

Oh, p.s. Mommy Aruni says, if you heart has been broken, if you have been disappointed and hurt and scared because of something you lost, something that’s changed, something that’s different, come take our program, Savoring Life’ Lessons, Grief—Loss—and Renewal, December 13-15.  I’ll be there!
http://bit.ly/savoringlifeslessons

Nowhere to Go and…

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Nowhere to Go and…

Nothing to do

How would you rate yourself on a scale-of-busy, from 1-10, 10 being the most plugged-in-busy-busy that one person might be?  

How would you rate yourself on a scale-of-doing, from 1-10, 10 being the most plugged-in-doing-doing, that one person might do?         

How many of us are in those double digits?  I bet, plenty.

I certainly am.

I am the Queen of Busy, the Empress of Doing.

In attempting to work less this year, I have worked so hard.

I have worked so hard at working less.

Going to the grocery store with myself on a “day off” can easily become a bit of a senior-citizen nightmare, with hyper-intensity and uber-focus.  

I work at shopping.

I work at driving.

I push and go….somewhere else…..to do something else.

Do you identify, folks out there in the Land of Blog?

We do live the Land of the Human Dilemma.  

Here’s a story—

In the ancient days of the Kripalu ashram, perhaps in the early 1990’s, of all the most illogical job placements, I was running the Kripalu Kitchen.  I am—not a cook, I hardly manage my Kitchen for One and get real food into my mouth, yet alone to understand, strategize and operate the magic Kripalu kingdom of food services, the ordering, buying, preparing, presenting and cleaning up of food for hundreds of people, day after day.

There was a subtle, non-spoken seva/selfless service policy operating in those mid-ashram days; if you were skilled in one area, you were put into another one, for the growth and evolution of your soul.  Cooks might be found in the editorial department, while writers might be found running a massive food service department, for example.

Perhaps it worked well for our souls, not so well for the business model.

It was a time of great disconnection from my body.  I struggled hard to make it through each day, feigning an attitude of spiritual nonchalant, like a holier-than-thou-I-got-this.

I did not got it.

In the midst of my short tenure as director of food services, we had a visiting teacher, as it often happened.  Kripalu was part of a spiritual circuit and our guru, Amrit Desai’s monk and swami buddies would come, teach and hang out.

This teacher’s name was Rishi Prabakar, a short, intense, passionate Indian man.  Teacher, guru, and Indian master, he was quite the character; he wanted our 450 ashram members to experiment with raw food, which was His Thing.

Trying to implement this into the Kripalu kitchen flow, rather than cooking from the consistent rotation menu, was, at best, chaotic.  I spent most of my time during Rishi Prabakar’s teaching week either in my office worrying (most helpful) or in the kitchen interacting with other people, who were also worrying (doubly not helpful).

When I did finally stagger into the Main Chapel to hear Rishi speak, sitting in a back-jack way at the back of the Chapel, attempting to land in that moment, his message landed with a THUNK in my chest.  I hear him distinctly say:

There is nothing to do and nowhere to go!

That was his message.  

What?

Damn, I thought, I have much to do and many places to go, to pull off this week.

And pull it off I did, of course, because that’s who I am.  I muddled through, most of that time now a blur, Rishi’s words lingered annoyingly, circling around me.

There is nothing to do and nowhere to go.

Rishi has stayed with me.  His words have continued to fascinate me.

I understand the concept—great concept!  From presence, from right here, from right now, take action.  Start always from that place of stillness and presence.

I know he’s on to something—I know and can hear the truth in his words.

And then there is life.

Here is Rishi Prabakar, teaching about non-doing and Grace:

In any moment we can choose to turn to Grace—we can empty ourselves and immediately receive Her.  There is no distance to travel. There is no technique to master. It requires only saying yes completely to our experience of that moment.  There is nothing else to do. There is no knowledge, no special learning required. No amount of doing will take us there. In fact, it only happens when we stop doing.  Stop trying. Not effort, but only courage is required to take the leap into the unknown. For indeed, it is in the vast spaciousness of the unknown that we most often meet Grace.

Right?  Makes sense, and yet, what a practice.  What a challenge, what a practice.

Mary Oliver, who, in her own way, certainly is a guru, says it so simply:

Sometimes I need
Only to stand
Wherever I am
To be blessed

As I sat with this teaching all this week, with apathetic procrastination around writing, I found myself humming a song with a similar message.  This song came to me and I want to share it. Here are Simon and Garfunkle, from their 1981 concert in Central Park, NYC:

Slow down, you’re moving too fast,
You got to make the morning last
Just kicking down the cobblestones
Looking for fun and feeling groovy

~~~

Dear Friends,

As the holiday season speeds up the pace of life, what are you going to do to make the morning last?  How will you look for fun? Feeling groovy? What might that look like in your world?

Please do keep in touch.  I am aruni@rnetworx.com.

Blessings for a Thanksgiving of ease and grace,

To you and yours,
Aruni

Food -Glorious Food*

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Food -Glorious Food*

*From the Broadway show, Oliver

Is it possible—how is it possible—that I have written a weekly blog for years now, and not even mentioned, not even whispered, that four-letter word, “food?”

I have written about childhood, about aging, about transformation, about fear and faith, about hope and heartbreak, about trusting the process and railing the f___ against it.

I have not talked about food.

I find this extraordinary, considering how my relationship with food is such a shiny mirror, such a profound and painful forever-teacher of mine, considering how many of my clients, over the years, struggle with food, considering how so much of my work, both personal and professional, has been about learning the gift of patient, kind, self-nourishment?

Fascinating.

I, at times, am fascinated by the power of both my denial and my willingness, and the extraordinary tango that these two parts of me together dance.

Food!

What is there to say?

Let’s do a little checklist.  

Do you:

  • Know a lot about nutrition but eat whatever your mind wants, anyway?
  • Eat good, healthy whole foods, but eat too much of it?
  • Dive into the fake, Fraken-Foods (think, Frankenstein) when the emotional shit hits the fan?
  • Want your body to be different?  Thinner? Stronger? Younger? Tighter?
  • Eat to numb rather than nourish yourself?

If you have answered yes to any one of these questions (I just made up), then welcome to the human dilemma.

If you have answered yes to more than one of these questions, welcome to life in a body.

If you answered yes to all these questions and any other unspoken questions about food, take a deep, long breath of self-kindness.

You are not alone.

Our bodies know what we need.  When we are younger and more authentically connected to them, we are better able to nourish, to give our bodies what they need to grow and strengthen.  Yet, as our minds continue to grow and we inevitably fade from a more connected relationship with our physical selves, our minds tend to take over.

Our mind overrides the wisdom of our body.

Bummer.

The words of that great sage, Tillie Futuronsky, my dear mother, nailed it: 

“Your eyes are bigger than your stomach.”  

How I railed against her knowing me that fully, in ways I couldn’t imagine knowing myself, as I sat at our green Formica kitchen table, working my way through a mass of food, a thousand years ago.  

And how incredibly insightful she was.

How to realign?

How to recommit?

How to take a proactive stand, as that danger zone, the “holiday season” hovers?

Here is my bottom-line formula for realignment and rebalancing, the ongoing practice of eating with mindful choice; radical self-acceptance plus the right use of will.

NOTICE WITHOUT JUDGMENT.

Notice without judgment.

Without making your choices wrong, without blaming yourself, just watch.  See what you eat, what you want, what you are and are not able to give yourself.

Notice how the food feels once you have eaten them.  

Are you energetically strengthened?

Or are you diminished?

Watch and breathe and acknowledge—there is some lingering comfort in these old patterns.

And from the groundwork of that radical kindness to yourself, lean in the direction you choose.

LEAN IN THE DIRECTION YOU CHOOSE.

Put down the fork, the cake, the massive chocolate croissant that wouldn’t fit in the bag (I’m speaking from a current personal moment).  Whenever you can and as you can, breathe deeply, filling yourself up with kind breath and presence.  

And practice—practice leaning toward your choice, your choice of health, of balance, of that which ushers into your life vitality.

Here is a track on mindful eating, from my CD, Life~Works—Meditations for Mindful Living.  (I know, it’s antiquated, indeed—guys, I am old.)  Here it is:

https://www.dropbox.com/s/1lh7mhv73houys1/05-Eating-Practice.mp3?dl=0

One bite at a time, may we practice kindness toward ourselves.

One bite at a time, may we lean toward vitality and nourishment.

One bite at a time, may we honor wherever we find ourselves on our journey.

One bite at a time, may we continue to practice,

Again

And again

And

Again.

~~~

Friends,

Oh, life in a body.  The never-ending saga of practicing nourishing ourselves, not through the hungry ghosts of our mind, but through the wisdom and the clarity of our brilliant bodies.

I say, let’s be as kind as we possibly can with ourselves.  Let’s be beyond-kind.

Let’s be beyond-accepting.

Let’s be beyond-loving.

Why would we not? 

And, in the earth of that radical self-kindness, let’s plant the seed of this question:  What am I really hungry for?

Dear Friends, please keep in touch.  I am aruni@rnetworx.com.

All blessings,
Aruni

P.S. Oh, you can download several other tracks from my CD of guided meditations on my website, visit  http://coacharuni.com/lifeworks/. My gift to you. 

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