Song of Mahamudra

Do naught with the body but relax;
Shut firm the mouth and silent remain;
Empty you mind and think of naught.
Like a hollow bamboo rest at ease your body.
Give not nor taking, put your mind at rest.
Mahamudra* is like a mind that clings to naught.
Thus practicing, in time you will reach Buddhahood.
The practice of Mantra and Perfections, instructions in the
Sutras and Precepts, and teaching from the Schools and
Scriptures will not bring realization of the Innate Truth
For if the mind, when filled with some desire should seek a goal
It only hides the light.

*Mahamudra is the practice and teaching that leads to realization of One Mind
which occurs when the human conscience and the God conscience become one.

awake

Though we seem to be sleeping, there is inner wakefulness that directs the dream, and that will eventually startle us back to the truth of who we are.
-Rumi

on the "monkey mind"

Elizabeth Gilbert, in her hilarious and gaspingly honest memoir, Eat. Pray. Love., talks about the “monkey mind” and how by practicing to calm it through meditation, we gain the ability to be present. Presence, being the thing we most need, to first recognize and then change the conditions of our lives.

Like most humanoids I am burdened with what the Buddhists call the Monkey Mind – the thoughts that swing from limb to limb, stopping only to scratch themselves, spit and howl. From the distant past to the unknown future, my mind swings wildly thorough time, touching on dozens of ideas a minute, unharnessed and undisciplined. This in itself is not necessarily a problem; the problem is the emotional attachment that goes along with the thinking. Happy thoughts make me happy, but – whoop! – how quickly I swing into obsessive worry, blowing the mood; and then it’s the remembrance of an angry moment and I start to get hot and pissed off all over again; and then my mind decides it might be a good time to start feeling sorry for itself, and loneliness follows promptly. You are, after all, what you think. Your emotions are the slaves to your thoughts and you are the slave to your emotions.

The other problem with all this swinging through the vines of thought is that you are never where you are. You are always digging in the past or poking at the future, but rarely do you rest in the moment. It’s something like the habit my dear friend Susan, who – whenever she sees a beautiful place – exclaims in near panic, “It’s so beautiful here! I want to come back here some day!” and it takes all of my persuasive powers to try to convince her that she is already here. If you are looking for union with the divine, this kind of forward/backward whirling is a problem. There’s a reason they call god a presence – because God is right here right now. In the present is the only place to find him, and now is the only time.

coming home to an open heart

The practice of mindfulness, the practice of meditation consists of coming back to ourselves in order to restore peace and harmony. If we come back to ourselves to restore peace and harmony, then helping another person will be a much easier thing. Caring for yourself, re-establishing peace in yourself, is the basic condition for helping someone else.

-Thich Nhat Hanh, True Love

Profiles in Practice: Angel Kyodo Williams

Angel Kyodo Williams, is a spiritual teacher, activist, artist and founder of New Dharma Meditation Center for Urban Peace in Oakland, CA, a training center for engaging individual, community and social transformation as spiritual practice. She is the author of Being Black: Zen and the Art of Living with Fearlessness and Grace.
Below is an excerpt from her book:


When I got to the retreat, I kept to myself and didn't look at anyone. I could barely see anyway. My eyes stayed heavy with tears that wouldn't fall. I was determined not to draw attention to myself, and I didn't want anyone to try to "fix it" for me. What was broken inside me was mine alone to deal with. Before I knew it, four days had passed.

When you are very, very sad, wounded in a deep place, it is not only impossible but futile to keep your suffering hidden. If trapped, pain eats away at your insides and destroys your spirit from there. So while I didn't run around looking for a shoulder to cry on, I didn't stuff my sadness or bite down on it to keep it in check, either. I was grateful that no one said a word to me. Even though my deep sadness was apparent, they did not try to comfort me. Once, during a break, I stood looking across the big lawn. I was completely engulfed by my sadness. Julia, a warm English woman who always managed to be taking care of our group, handed me a tissue. I hadn't even realized I was crying. She handed me the tissue without a shred of judgment and just as quickly left me to my own space.

That same day, I finally went to the private interview to talk with my teacher face-to-face. As soon as I sat down, I blurted out how screwed up I felt my life was, how I had failed miserably in so many ways and couldn't stand my own self anymore. I beat myself up for a few more minutes before she looked at me and said, "You have to be gentle with Angel."

Pat Enkyo O'Hara Sensei is a middle-aged Irish-American woman. Sensei is what Zen teachers are called. At the time, she was a professor of new media at New York University. In some ways, we couldn't have come from more different places. But she looked at me so knowingly, it was instantly clear that all the categories, labels, and differences were unimportant.

She wasn't just looking at the young black woman sitting there with her face contorted in pain. We were not black and white or even teacher and student. We were just two human beings acknowledging suffering. Pat was seeing me and my pain. She was sharing my pain with me. In that moment and for the first time in weeks, I felt my despair lighten. I left the room noticing that I was finally breathing again.

That retreat was the beginning of not just healing the pain I was dealing with in that moment, but of opening my heart wider, expanding my vision farther than I had ever realized was possible. I had taken refuge in my teacher and my sangha. Through the simple acts of giving me just what I needed without asking for anything in return, Julia had pointed out to me that my dignity was still there. Pat, of course, taught me without teaching that I had to have compassion for myself in order to have compassion for others. Gentleness toward ourselves and others is too hard to come by.

As for the rest of the people to whom I never said a word and who never spoke to me, by being silently supportive and allowing me the space I needed to both acknowledge my sadness and not be isolated, they collectively taught me that healing begins at home, and that home is wherever you make it. For the first time, I understood Community. Our strange group had become a family and a home for me without my ever noticing it. While I was the only black person in the group, I directly understood that it was not about people looking the same, doing the same things with their lives, or being the same at all. It was an agreement to be mutually respectful and supportive no matter who you were. Everyone agreed to serve the community in this way. And we all benefited.

Taking refuge was not hiding after all. It wasn't weak or even passive. It was placing my trust in my teacher, in the lessons I gain from my own experience, and in my community. When I needed them the most, they all became a place in which I could begin to heal. When you are aware of what you are doing, placing your trust in someone or something takes a lot of courage. It's an act of bravery. It acknowledges that you are not alone in the world and that there is a connection between you and all things. It's like money in the bank. When we honor our community, maintain it, treat it like the precious treasure that it is, it returns our investment a thousandfold. Where can you get better results than that?

the power of new eyes

The only real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes.

-Marcel Proust

why meditation?

Wisdom springs from meditation;
without meditation wisdom wanes.
Having known these two paths of progress and decline,
let a man so conduct himself that his wisdom may increase.

Dhammapada: 282

The Shelter of Silence

As very young children, not having words at our disposal, we sense and communicate with our feelings; physical and emotional. As we grow, so many words, ideas and projections run roughshod onto us until we don’t know what or how we feel. But beneath the shelter of silence it all comes back. We arrive back at the beginning.