Love is the Lens*

Why does it feel hard to write today?

Oh, and yesterday, too?

Wait, let me think.

Yep,

Maybe

Even

The day before that.

I don’t want to be “too down”.

Too bleak.

Nor do I want to be

Frivolous,

Ridiculously

Detached

From the reality

Of our moment.

Okay! I’m going for it—

Here’s my moment:

~~~

My moral outrage

Is exhausted.

Injustices

Plague our planet

WHILE…

As I open my eyes,

I see the softness

Of the morning light,

Creeping over the mountain,

Blossoming into yet another

Delicious day.

~~~

How do I continue

Witnessing the unraveling

Of our democracy

WHILE…

Waking into Niki’s

Furry little dog body

Cuddling into me?

~~~

How do I stay abreast

Of the national changes

Which I need to do,

WHILE…

Delighting in the

Bluest of blue

Summer skies,

Alive

With

Sunshine?

~~

How?

I practice.

I just practice.

Coming back to kindness.

Coming back to kindness.

Coming back

To

Kindness.

~~~

Here’s Swami Kripalu, that brilliant saint of a fella (literally and figuratively):

“Love is the lens we return to again and again

to true our alignment when we wobble

in our pursuits toward right action.”

Let’s talk about love.

I don’t know.

Love is feeling a tad

Above my pay grade

These days.

I’m going for kindness.

Can I just not be an asshole

When I drive?

Can I not rush around

The grocery store,

On some wild

Hunting and gathering

Survival

Mission?

Kind.

Can I keep coming back

To kind?

First to myself.

Then to us.

All.

If love is too much of a reach,

Fill in the blank for yourself.

What works for you?

Love?

Kindness?

Compassion?

Empathy?

Swami Kripalu would not mind.

He would want us to make it work,

Each in our own way.

I so appreciate his saying, “…again and again”. That is just the damn truth about practice, again and again and yet another again.

Like Rumi says, “…. Whether you have broken your vow 100 times, come, the door is round and open.” That is just simply PRACTICE.

We practice.

You practice.

I practice.

We do not get it right

And graduate

From

Something.

Damn it.

I love his use of “wobble”.

Wobble = to move unsteadily from side to side.

I don’t know about you…

But I have been feeling

A tad wobbly

These days.

Yes,

A bit wobbly

In my pursuits.

The days themselves

Seem to be

Wobbling.

And “right action”.

To practice aligning our intentions with our actions.

To take right action

And to

Let go

Of the outcome

Of our actions!

Swami’s quote calls us to a place of return,

Of renewal,

A turning point.

A tether.

A landing zone.

To land there.

To breathe in

Our commitment.

And from that commitment,

To take a step forward.

To just practice.

To just practice,

“Truing our alignment.”

Bapuji is giving us a formula for living.

And what a time it is,

What a time

For living.

~~~

Someone recommended this song to me. Intrigued by the title, I checked it out. Realizing it was a country song by Tim McGraw, obviously a big country dude, my very on-the-surface bias roared awake. I was sure the song and the video would be too—too—what? Too American? Is that the word? Too limited? Too church-y? Too exclusive?

I was wrong. Here is the most sweet and inclusive video, Tim McGraw and Humble and Kind.

~~~

Dear Friends,

Centimeter by centimeter,

May we find our way home.

May we practice

Returning to

Radical kindness for ourselves.

May we offer our kindness

To others,

To all,

Here

And

There

And

Everywhere.

We are all just

Pilgrims,

Finding

Our way home.

May all beings benefit from these shared words.

Blessings, all—

Aruni

~~~

*Quote from Swami Kripalu, also known as Bapuji

Why are We Doing This?
Why are We Practicing?

What in the name of Jesus, Buddha, Moses and the Wood Nymphs might Sylvia Plath, Step Two from 12 Step programs and the 23rd Psalm have in common?

After hearing this quote below, I started thinking about Sylvia Plath.

Then I found myself pondering and considering Step Two from Twelve-Step programs, which plays a big role in my life practice.

And then flittering into my mind came the 23rd Psalm.

A funny combination of thoughts, indeed.

This cascade of thoughts began with Sylvia. Here is her quote:

“It’s a hell of a responsibility to be yourself.

It’s much easier to be somebody else

or nobody at all.”*

Knowing as we do the heartbreak and intensity of Sylvia’s life, I find this quote profound. Her creative genius, her mental health status, the era in which she lived, all these pieces pulled and pushed and vied for her attention, for her focus.

Being ourselves is the gift of our wisdom teachings. Deeper than the anxiety, deeper than the creative drive, deeper than the role of parent or child, friend or foe, our essence calls us home. Day after day, hour after hour, moment after moment, we can return, we can renew, we can remember what is truly real; that place inside all of us, regardless of externals, that place of silence and wisdom, always available.

For twenty years on a daily basis, alcohol and drugs were my only coping tools. Like Sylvia implies, they gave me the energy (or so I thought), to try to be like everybody else, to finally fit in. I literally thought smoking pot throughout the day was cool. I wanted that identity, that counterculture, anti-establishment attitude that drugs seemed to offer me. I was, of course, headed in the opposite direction of my authentic self. Little did I know……

And now, how many times a day do I forget what’s important, what’s real? How many times a day do I get lost in the externals, the news, the fears about what isn’t happening (but someday might, damn it!), how many times a day do I get lost in the shuffle of the external world?

When I got sober and, oh, so slowly began considering the Steps of the program, I found a rich and relevant and viable way of reconnecting to that authentic self. Here’s the Second Step:

Came to believe that a Power greater than myself could restore me to sanity.**

By practicing mindful reconnection to that which is greater than me, (call it whatever you choose), I am restored. Time after time during the day, I imperfectly practice returning to that place of calm and connectivity.

It’s a process, not an event. This practice is an ongoing process, which brings attention back to that internal place of stability and silence.

And finally, the 23rd Psalm. During my dad’s funeral in 2000, the rabbi read it. It was the first time I heard it, that first time I allowed it in. This prayer has served me so well. After the funeral, getting back to work, I found it difficult driving from my home to Kripalu, a 12-minute drive. I started repeating the 23rd Psalm aloud until I landed in the Kripalu parking lot. The Psalm literally carried me. And then, at some point, perhaps months later, it wasn’t needed. Since then, this is a prayer I hold close.

“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

He/she makes me lay down in green pastures,

She leads me beside the still water.

She restores my soul.”***

Whatever it is you practice, whatever it is that gives you solace and silence, is a doorway to restoration. A realignment. A reconnection. A gear shift away from external to internal.

Why practice? Because it restores us.

~~~

Friends, what do you practice?

Do you resonate with the concept of being restored?

How does that show up for you?

I would love to know.

~~~

Speaking of being restored, I find this video is extraordinarily calming and centering. Please do watch. It’s worth it.

~~~

Dear Friends,

Give us the courage and the strength

To keep practicing.

Give us the willingness and the intentionality

To open the door to restoration.

Give us the commitment to life,

To practice being with what is.

One breath.

One moment.

One nanosecond

At a time.

May all beings benefit from our time together.

Blessings,

Aruni

~~

A Strange Request

Folks, a few times a year I have a psychic reading to gather data for my life from another perspective.  This time, my Spirit Guides had a strange request.  They told me I need to get my message out to more people!  They were talking about social media and marketing!  Not exactly my forte.  Anyway, I humbly request, as you read my offerings weekly, please consider forwarding it to somebody in your life.

I appreciate it deeply.

~~~

*            Sylvia Plath

**          Twelve-step programs.

***         The 23rd Psalm

~~~

“At Its Own Pace and by Its Own Order.”*

Buddha who Lives in the Orchard Room, Kripalu Center

 

I would not call myself a patient person. Maybe I’d give myself a 6-out-of-10 rating.

I do want exactly what I want.

And clearly, I want it when I want it.

The flaw, of course, in that thinking is—I might know what I want.

But do I know what I need?

Being old helps.

I have so much evidence-based data that illustrates

The power, the benefits, the doorways

Available when I slow down.

At times, I can hold the posture.

I can chill out and wait for life to catch up with me,

To slow down enough to allow life

To do its business.

Most importantly, being old denies me the energy to push too-too much.

I don’t have it.

And that’s good news.

Of course, there are different levels of life calling for our patience, our pausing:

The inevitability of human annoyances—

• Tight parking lots without spots, alive with the treachery of cruising cars
• Grocery store shopping—too many people with carts in too narrow aisles.
• Waiting at checkout counters.
• Traffic—ugh. All of it.

The invitations to deepen our lives—

• Wanting to grow emotionally
• Needing to cultivate more generosity
• Learning how to respond to threats to our democracy.

In 12 Step we say, time takes time.

I like that simplicity, that conciseness.

It’s a good mantra for me.

It’s a tidy, easy reminder that carries a deep message.

I continue to learn from this quote by Viktor Frankl, the Austrian psychiatrist and Holocaust survivor, who said, “Between the stimulus and the response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response.”

Pausing gives us the freedom of choice!

Who knew?

Resting is a verb.

Stopping is a gift.

~~~

I saw this quote on one of the program room doors at Kripalu. I hadn’t read it before. I stopped me in my tracks. Here is Swami Kripalu, with his clear, precise wisdom:

Growth can be gradual.

The seed that is sown

Today does not sprout

Into a tree the next day.

It does so only

In the course of time,

At its own pace,

And by its own order.*

~~~

At its own pace,

And by its own order.

What about you?

How well do you wait?

How consistently do you pause?

How willing are you to allow time to take its time?

Oh, by the way, I asked my spouse to rate my patience level, 1-10.

She gave me a 4.

I thought that was a low-ball score.

Smile.

~~~

Here is—dare I say the word—inspiration. This song helped my heavy heart this week. Thank you, Mary, for sending it.

Here’s Lift Us Up, with Peter Yarrow, the guitarist from the folk group, Peter, Paul and Mary. Let me know how this lands for you.

~~~

Friends,

Give us the patience and the tolerance

To keep practicing.

Give us the willingness and the strength

To abide what we see about ourselves.

Help us to live in a place of kindness,

One breath at a time,

As best we can.

Help us to continue to return

To that place,

No matter what

Is happening.

With kindness,

With strength,

With patience,

With tolerance,

Help us to become more

Of whom we really are.

May all beings benefit from our shared words.

Blessings—

All,

Aruni

*Title quote by Swami Kripalu

The Time for Pacing is Now

It’s hard to know where to begin.

Also causing confusion these days, is where to end.

A friend just said to me,

“The world is on fire”.

My breath catches,

Holds,

Stops.

I breathe again.

Breathing myself

Out of my sickbed.

Disconnecting from healing-through-daytime-Netflix-streaming.

Only two more episodes of The Closer are left.

I am bereft,

Trying to space them out, for most savor-ability.

Truly. Captain Johnson got me through.

I’m off to the Inner Quest Intensive.

This program, in a life filled with gifts, is one of life’s most profound gifts to me.

The gift that keeps giving,

The one that keeps teaching me,

The one that keeps showing me

That which I need to see.

I head toward the program room tomorrow

With a new practice,

Something demanding my attention.

The current point of healing for me:

How to pace myself?

I am an unconscious anti-pacer.

I go for it.

This weekend?

My body is demanding,

The Time for Pacing is Now.

~~~

To pace =

To regulate your own energy for a task,

To control speed, rhythm or movement over a distance,

Conserving energy.

~~~

Teaching calls my energy out.

The Inner Quest is the pinnacle of my teaching experience.

I adore, ADORE offering Kripalu’s Legacy Teachings in this format.

Intensive, hell, yes!

Let’s commit.

Let’s look.

Let’s relax.

Let’s practice kindness to ourselves

No matter what we see.

That’s the curriculum of the Inner Quest.

And it calls me forward, and it hypes me up.

And the hours are longer, and more energy is expected of me.

And I LOVE that.

Yet, this time?

After being so sick,

After recouping for so long,

I must pace myself.

How? You might ask.

Damned if I know.

Perhaps I can:

Step out of the program room for a few breaths more often…?

Rely on my staff more…?

Commit to not dancing and jumping around. (the hardest ask)…?

And…?

We will see.

We will see.

I believe in the power of my intentionality and my willingness.

I’m counting on it.

What about you?

In what activities in your life does pacing yourself matter?

How do you do it?

What does pacing, honoring your energy, knowing when to stop, look like?

~~~

Shifting gears, I’ve never heard of Amy Grant before yesterday. Thanks, Martin, for sending her along to me. A Christian music performer who crossed over to pop, Amy has won a Grammy and has a massive, passionate and longstanding following.

This song and its video are so powerful for me. Amy lovingly invites us to consider how we have gotten so far from Yasgur’s Farm, the site of the Woodstock Music Festival in 1969. Not to ignore the serious issues that came forth during the Festival, nevertheless, Woodstock emerged from a subculture committed to peace and justice.

By nature of my age, I belonged to that subculture committed to peace and justice. And I miss it so profoundly.

Pay attention to Amy Grant’s images. She is telling us so much about our “world on fire”.

Amy Grant

~~~

Friends,

 

May we continue to learn.

To see.

To grow.

May we continue to acknowledge what was.

May we continue to commit to what is.

May we continue to pray for what might be,

A world where justice and peace prevail,

A world where kindness and integrity live.

Give us the courage and the strength to keep practicing.

Blessings, all—

Aruni

 

Leaning Toward Solace

Friends,

As I oh, so slowly make my way out of my sick bed, both literally and figuratively, news from the outside world clenches at my heart.

Events in our country, events in our world feel upside down. Wrong. Just wrong. And yet, reality wins. These things are happening.

I heard a quote this morning from Maryanne Williamson who said:

“A thin river of misery runs through my life.”

OMG. OMG. I so identify with this.

And in my identifying, I remember.

Again and again:

It is my responsibility to lean away from this river.

It is my personal and collective commitment to lean toward solace.

My comfort, my safety, are not dependent on external factors.

They are dependent upon my willingness to draw on the practices that bring me solace.

Solace = comfort, consolation in times of distress and sadness.

~~~

Strangely, I haven’t written much about my days as a member of the Kripalu Ashram. From 1989 until its dissolution in 1996, I lived in Shadowbrook, Kripalu’s main building, with a community of 450 volunteers. Our main practice was seva, or selfless service.

I was fortunate to come to Kripalu in 1989 as a sober woman. I had taught for almost two decades in Newark, N.J., had lived a few years sober, and was able to hunker down in the ashram, with my 12 Step support, to receive the blessings of living with a mindful community. Our teacher was Amrit Desai, whom we called Gurudev. My experiences were rich and wild and exactly what I needed to become more of who I really am.

They formed me. They baked me. They grew me.

On Thursday nights in the ashram, we would gather for satsanga, which means in the company of truth, with Gurudev. He would lecture, not my favorite part. After it, however, we together would do call-and-respond chanting together. Chanting, as I understand it, is a practice of bhakti yoga, the yoga of devotion.

In the repetition of those prayers, oh, how my head would quite down. Oh, how my body would relax. Oh, how my heart would open. Sometimes, the next morning upon awakening, I would find the chant there, waiting for me.

Being sick these past weeks have wreaked havoc with my routines, my practices. I am making a commitment today, this first week of January, to reestablish this practice, to bring bhakti yoga back into my days. All I have to do is nothing, just listen. Just allow the words to open me.

Listening totally counts!

Here is a wonderful mantra, called Tvameva Mata, sung by Carrie Grossman, a Kripalu presenter. I have listened to this mantra all week. It comforts me.

First, here are its words and their translation:

Twameva Mata Cha Pita Twameva

Twameva Bandhu Cha Sakha Twameva

Twameva Vidya Dravinam Twameva

Twameva Sarvam Mam Dev Deva 

 

You alone are my mother, You alone my father.

You alone are my family, You alone my friend.

You alone are my knowledge, You alone my wealth.

You are everything to me, O Great Spirit,

You alone.

Friends, listen to this.

Sit and breathe with this. Thank you, Carrie.

More Information about Carrie Grossman

 

~~~

What will you do this week to bring yourself centering, solace, and peace?

I will practice turning off Netflix (the healing powers of streaming are real!) and give myself other ways of healing.

~~~

Friends, for you, for all of us, let’s end with metta meditation, lovingkindness to self, to other, and to all:

 

May I be present.

May I be whole.

May I ride the waves of my life.

May I live in peace no matter what I’m given.

 

May you be present.

May you be whole.

May you ride the waves of your life.

May you live in peace no matter what you’re given.

May we be present.

 

May we be whole.

May we ride the waves of our lives.

May we live in peace no matter what we’re given.

 

All blessings,

Aruni

~~~