Unconditional Positive Regard for Carl Rogers

The above is from a very interesting series of film -- Carl Rogers (and Fritz Perls and Albert Ellis) all seeing the same client -- Gloria --  for 1/2 hour, to demonstrate each of their techniques.  Here he introduces his approach, and meets Gloria.


"Experience is, for me, the highest authority. The touchstone of validity is my own experience. No other person's ideas, and none of my own ideas, are as authoritative as my experience. It is to experience that I must return again and again, to discover a closer approximation to truth as it is in the process of becoming in me. Neither the Bible nor the prophets -- neither Freud nor research --neither the revelations of God nor man -- can take precedence over my own direct experience. My experience is not authoritative because it is infallible. It is the basis of authority because it can always be checked in new primary ways. In this way its frequent error or fallibility is always open to correction." --From On Becoming a Person, 1961

Starfish & Coffee

After some internet sleuthing, I found my high school guidance counselor's mailing address.  He'd be in his 70's now.  I wrote him a thank-you card and sent it off.  I hope he is comfortably retired in Florida.  He made a huge difference in my life, and I just finally let him know that.  


He was all about developing peer support at our school.  So he trained a handful of high school students in Rogerian listening techniques, and gave us some experience facilitating small groups (with an adult team member).  He saw some ability that I didn't know I had.  It's not hard to see how my career path as a therapist began here.


He started these weekend retreats, focused on learning study skills, as well as some aspects of emotional literacy, and he'd make this announcement to everybody on Friday night after dinner if anybody wanted to go home:  He promised to personally take anyone home in 24 hours if they still wanted to go home.  The catch was this:  "This Is It."  That was how you had to spend the next 24 hours.  Not, "When I get home, THAT will be it," or "When I graduate THAT will be it," or "When I get my driver's license THAT will be it," or the innumerable iterations of "This isn't it."  THIS. IS. IT.  Right now.  Here.  And he never had to take anybody home.


He loved to tell the story of the starfish -- about the little girl on the shore throwing starfish back into the ocean.  A guy comes up and asks her what she's doing, and she says she's saving the starfish from baking in the sun.  The guy says there's hundreds of starfish on the shore, thousands maybe, and she'll never be able to make a difference.  She throws one back in the ocean and says, "I made a difference to that one."


He had me draw a starfish, and he made these little buttons with the starfish on them that said "I make a difference."  Super sappy.  I know.  I think my Buddhist education began here.

The Attitude of Gratitude

Ain't just a platitude.

Experiencing life post-Sabbatical. I am so happy and grateful, it is way bigger than me. Turns out I really do enjoy my work as a clinical social worker, especially when it's not like drinking out a firehose. I used to say that I loved my work at the county, but there was just so darn much of it.

I just called my old supervisor the other day, and she said she couldn't believe it had only been a year that I'd been gone; that it seemed like 10 years. A lot happens there in a day. There's a reason people count their time in dog years.

It has been such a gift and an honor to focus on clients again. And keeping the focus on me, too.

I suspect the big changes in my diet and other health-related practices has also given me a boost to some degree. It certainly was a major change. I remember just feeling an energetic floor one day. Nice. And impermanent.

Social work is my trade, and I am very grateful that I have not had to stop practicing it. Especially at a point in my career when I have a little seasoning. I like to think it's about to get really interesting now.

I was describing the difference to someone -- that instead of treading water, it's more like water ballet.

Also I have an inordinate amount of gratitude about getting to ride the bus every day. Bus Practice is its own blog post, perhaps coming soon.

Here's a little clip from one of my top three favorite movies of all time, Stuart Smalley Saves His Family. It's such an affectionate sendup of the 12-Step programs and their wonderful slogans that only a self-depricating codependent insider could accomplish.

The attitude of gratitude -- it ain't just a platitude.

This Sangha Body

Our Sangha is actively grieving the loss of one of our members. Her unexpected death on Mother's Day has been a shock, and indeed, feels like a suddenly missing body part.

It turns out I have little to say. If I did, I would probably talk about impermanence. The preciousness of this life. Sitting with unanswerable questions. The physical manifestations of grief. The unimaginable excruciating pain of her surviving husband and children. Observing the heroic practice of Sangha members also touched by death who continue to show up and be present with fresh grief that awakens their own excruciating pain. Helplessness. Gratitude. A Buddhist funeral. Appreciating anew the incredible and unlikely opportunity we have to practice in this life.

Alive or dead? I won't say.

"I Suck at Sitting!"

I enjoyed a recent guest post on The Reformed Buddhist. Kyle's fiancee Jody, who had not practiced meditation before, went to a sit at a Zen Center for the first time, and then wrote about it. It was a pleasure to hear her experience, and just so familiar as well: "I experienced that I suck at sitting" she said.

I felt such an instant affinity when I read her post. OMG me too! I had trouble finding the words to sufficiently normalize her experience. It inspired me to dig out an old journal of mine -- the one I happened to be writing in when I had my first meditation experience --a three-day weekend retreat.

It was at Breitenbush Hot Springs, a very well-run hippie resort here in Oregon. In the Fall, Julie Wester leads a women-only Vipassana-based retreat there every year (and once last Spring), which she has been doing for about thirty years. I had no idea who Julie Wester was. All I knew was that I decided I needed to learn to meditate. I was also really hitting the wall in a few areas in my personal life at the time. So me and all my baggage went on a meditation retreat.

This retreat is not your typical Buddhist meditation retreat. As Julie Wester said at the outset, (but I didn't apparently hear or believe), "There's a lot of permission here." You don't have to go to all the sessions. You don't have to go to any sessions. If you need to get up and move, you do. If you need to perform an interpretive dance in the middle of sitting meditation, go for it (nobody did, but there was explicit permission for that). There isn't even any work practice -- it's all taken care of, and all there is to do is sleep, eat gorgeous food, soak in the amazing natural hot springs, meditate, rinse, repeat.

Nevertheless, there is a schedule offered. It includes lots of sitting, walking, movement meditation, Dharma talks, small group discussion sessions with the teacher, and the option for 1:1 with a senior student if you like. It was more sitting than I had ever done in my life, which prior to that, was none. And the usual proscriptions against reading and writing were never brought up. So I was just journaling away the whole time, and even writing during the talks. It was all allowed. Now I read these words with such a deeply compassionate amusement for that nervous, pained woman, courageously riding the retreat roller-coaster for the first time, and coming off of the ride full of gratitude and so much more awake to life.

I share these excerpts in the spirit of normalizing and encouraging beginners on the Path. I especially want to point out the benefit I received from hearing the other women's stories during the retreat. How being able to share what our difficulties were, and what we brought to our meditation experience there really helped me know that the discomfort is normal, and there are teachers and spiritual friends along the way to help us through these difficulties. The sharing helped calm me, and keep me going.

I learned how to just sit with pain and difficulty. And joy and contentment. What a gift that is.

Evening of arrival:

I am hurting still. I am nervous about this meditation retreat, as I may just get to confront / lean into all this pain. The daily schedule looks a bit daunting. What should I bring? What should I wear? It seems like many of the women here are not first-timers to this workshop. I am.

After evening session:

Well it just wasn't too bad. "Breathe with whatever you bring here."

7am Full Day 1:

I'm nervous about my first full day, but I think I can do it. This is not the retreat for the ADHD. The silence is a relief. No more chit-chat. I can use the meditation time to let go of this struggle over and over and over.

Noon Day 1:

I want to jump out of my skin much of the time in the silent sittings. I am tolerating more discomfort: An ache, an emptiness, a hole in my heart. So much chatter: Songs, words, pictures, past, future, planning, figuring out. And then the Boredom! The discomfort of being with my bored, uncomfortable self! I think I am settling down a bit, but so uncomfortable with myself. Obsessed with thoughts...I'm fighting myself and my thoughts, surrendering, and then they return. There's not much I've ever done with my eyes closed besides sleep or try to figure everything out. So much thinking. It's a stadium in there. Can this room, this area hold all that I've brought? Mostly uncomfortable. This is hard.

1:30pm Day 1

Serenity NOW! I keep fighting the chatter in my head rather than compassionately inviting it to do something else -- focus on breathing, etc. I think I am officially having a hard time. My relationship situation does not help. I wonder what I would be obsessing about if not for that? I just can't help but feel PAIN. Surely there is comfort and joy here too? This is the thing about letting whatever comes up come up.

How do people keep returning to meditation practice? It must feel good at some point. I hope I'm not missing a taste of peace. I guess I am feeling disappointed that I find it so uncomfortable.

4pm Day 1

I LOVED the small group. We got to talk about our pain and experience here and our concerns. (The Teacher) said it was hard to come here and BE with that pain and the boredom was a way to rest from the pain -- the pain is not boring, but to go through the pain is the path to freedom. She talked about how we are not really beginners -- we bring whatever our experience with other things is. I compare this to dragonboating -- it WAS painful at first, and I had not as much stamina.

It was good to hear the other women's stories. It opened up so much compassion, and if I could apply half as much of that compassion to myself, I'd be treating myself much more gently. Many of the other women sharing had to do with accepting pain as the nature of life. Impermanence. Change. Discomfort.

5pm Day 1

That (meditation session) was easier. Calmer. Do-able. Not so panicky. Glad I got to talk before.

7pm Day 1

I'm tired. Really tired. I've been leaning into pain and discomfort all day. So much focus. I'm sleepy. Relaxed. Calmer. Noting moments of contentment. Enjoyed pre-dinner soak and shower. So beautiful here.

Dharma Talk Day 1

(small excerpts from copious notetaking)

Liberated Feminine

No Tibetan creation story - Primordial womb / space is Boundless. That our of which Everything comes. Great Mother. Inherent Luminosity. Split into duality. Suffering = sense of separation.

5 poisons & Daikini families = reactive emotions. attachment, anger, confusion, pride, jealousy can be transformed into wisdom.

Stay present in our bodies

1) willingness - to allow it and stay present

2) drop the struggle - what is holding us back from who we really are.

Let go of 'I can't do this'. Obstacles -- we can't go around; just into and through.

Stay with what happens in your body. Transformation.

7:45am Day 2

I got up at 6:40a to get to the baths in time by 7. Which I did. I accidentally got out at 7:30, thinking the wake-up bell was the breakfast bell. But that gave me some time to make coffee (thank God) and journal.

Still thinking - getting songs in my head. Struggling to give up the struggle. I'm worrying about doing it wrong: Was I supposed to be at the sitting meditation today? But it SAID on the schedule silent bathing. I thought it looked like an option. She kept us up LATE last night and I got irritated because I was so tired exhausted and overwhelmed.

There's a sweet family of deer here, and it's nice to observe them being themselves. They're not thinking, they're being. I'm noticing love and gratitude emerging for the deer. Allowing that to be, just like the pain from before.

I see myself in the red Daikini family. Craving and desiring. So what if I allow that craving and desiring? She says that the other side of that is what?Clarity about what is needed in relationships? What have I been seeking all this time?

After Breakfast Day 2

I felt such happiness and gratitude and connectedness @ breakfast. I felt like the deer eating THEIR breakfast.

Later Day 2

Calmer, more accepting. Breathing with the songs. Breathing with the chatter and figuring out and stories. Breathing with the desire and craving.

Later Day 2

So much intensity. My anger and overwhelm acknowledged and validated. Intensity emerging I can't even name. Fears come up and subside. So much intensity - I am not used to it. I felt a ball of fear come up and pushed it away. The chatter and the songs -- what is it all about?

Still Later Day 2

I'm glad I signed up for 1:1 time. I feel confused and muddled. I sort of dread the silent sitting meditations. I wonder if I'll be uncomfortable, feel like I'm not doing it very well. I have a tremendous fear of doing this (+everything) wrong. I find the sitting meditations quite difficult. It's helped to add the "breathe with" all the chatter instruction. I'm tired. Sleepy and tired of confronting myself. That's why it's hard. I'm not just gently meeting myself as in 'Hey what's goin' on?' but 'What else is wrong with you?' I could be gentler with myself.

6pm Day 2

Sheesh. I hit the wall. I hit the self-critical, internal judgmental, mean-to-myself, slave-driving wall. I skipped moving meditation. Not before GOING to the 2:30 sitting one, and I was, I REALLY WAS too tired. I was nodding off and finally lay down + went to sleep. I thought everybody else was judging me. It was ME. How curious that this is what's coming up. Me not being gentle with myself.

Anyway, I took a nap. I wanted more, but I got up to talk to Nan (senior student). She reassured me that I don't HAVE to go to every single thing on the schedule. She encouraged me to do a loving kindness meditation + she suggested labeling the thoughts of anger / disgust / frustration at the songs in my head "aversion" + to just notice my judging and gently label "judging".

Morning Last Day

It's a chilly morning.

Y'know what's funny? I'm sorta looking FORWARD to the silent sitting meditations!! I was dreading them before. No wonder. And my back / upper back where the critical judge lives is more relaxed. She's gotten off my back. The deer were my teachers this weekend. The trees too. They don't think. They just ARE.

Afternoon, After Closing Last Day

So much gratitude. So much compassion. Kwan Yin has stepped in. In myself, outside myself, and through the women here. I got a loving, compassionate, and motherly hug from the woman to my left. She said, "They'll go away", meaning the voices -- the harsh judging voices. And I believe she is right.

Why protect myself from love and pain. Fire. It is a part of life.

Julie quoted her teacher with her German accent (Ruth Denison)

"Self-knowledge is not all good news, dahling."

She also said that going into our bodies sometimes means going into pain. Can be a reason for avoiding meditation practice. You can't force it. You can only invite / allow it. This is a gradual awakening.

The Waters of Compassion

I've just returned from another week of Sesshin. During this Sesshin, the earthquake in Haiti happened. I guess it was on Day 2 of the Sesshin. Hogen Roshi would talk about it in each day's Teisho (a talk given by a Zen master during a Sesshin). As our hearts and minds opened through the week, he would take a little time to describe the tragic situation as the events unfolded.

We were not being bombarded by any images of it the way anyone who saw TV this week was. We therefore did not have to use any of the subsequent modern-life coping mechanisms of compartmentalization or numbing out. We just heard about the suffering, and with many hours to sit in silence, we absorbed it.

***

At Sesshin, we do oryoki at every meal. Oryoki is essentially ritualized, mindful eating. Each person has their own set of bowls and utensils which they individually clean after the meal, thereby preventing spread of germs. It is an ancient practice, pretty handy for use in those old monasteries of thousands, and still plenty useful today.

Oriyoki Bowls from Kanzeon Zen Center

Oryoki, once I stopped feeling like I was on the verge of a panic attack at every meal for fear of doing it wrong, has become a lovely experience. There is chanting before and after each meal, and built-in opportunities to cultivate generosity. For example, we place the spoon handle and chopstick handle ends facing away from us as a way to show that we are offering our food to others.

Oryoki requires slowing down. The process gives plenty of time to just observe the food prior to eating, and it requires some consciousness about those all around us. Oryoki also reveals thoughts and feelings of enough and not-enough, as well as an opportunity to experience and differentiate body hunger, mind hunger, mouth hunger, eye hunger, heart hunger, etc.

We use a small amount of hot water -- about a cup or less -- at the end of each meal to wash out our own three bowls and then we wrap the bowls and utensils back up. Great Vow uses three bowls, and usually there are two or three food items that leave a varying amount of residue, no matter how well you scrape your bowl with your little spatula utensil. So the hot water at the end is really needed to clean the bowls. It always ends up a little cloudy with whatever has been cleaned from the bowls. It is optional to take a couple sips of this water before it is then collected by the tall bamboo containers that get passed down the table. That water is then reverently offered to a tree outside the kitchen.

At this point, there is a chant:

We use this water to wash our bowls,

It tastes like heavenly nectar.

We offer it to the many spirits to satisfy them.

Om maha ku sha laya Svaha

I recall someone at a Mindful Eating retreat expressing her aversion to everything about oryoki (which I find quite understandable), including and especially the fact that we "drink dirty dishwater" at the end.

I had a powerful experience after lunch one of the days. As I was taking my sips of "dirty dishwater", I clearly, viscerally understood that this small amount of water, were it in Haiti this day, could have sustained the life of someones baby for perhaps another day. This realization was nearly overpowering.

I found myself beginning to cry. And by the time I was able to leave the Zendo, I ended up on my knees on the floor by my bed, just weeping. The tears were of sadness for the suffering and loss, as well as deep gratitude for being given this life for just a few more moments-- thanks to this bit of water and everything, everything else that I have been given, beyond that last cup of water, is so clearly just extra.

This was not an experience of guilt, but one of deep, profound gratitude. I experienced gratitude for everything I looked at and touched, but mostly, experienced gratitude on top of gratitude for this practice, which is what enables me to even see the truth of that water, the truth of how precious everything is. How is it that I am not falling to my knees every moment?

May the people of Haiti be free from suffering.

Please click here to donate to Mercy Corps, a Portland-based international relief organization currently assisting the people of Haiti, and relieving suffering all over the world.

It Ain't Just a Platitude

While occasionally, my perspective can be a bit lost, generally, I am grateful more often than I am not. I love making gratitude lists, whether in my head, or on paper, at the beginning of the day, or at the end of the day. Thanksgiving Day is a great holiday, and I am not sure if this is true, but sometimes it seems like I can feel the gratitude in the energy all around me as most of us allow ourselves this focus.

I have called my parents, and feel grateful for the simple fact that they are still alive.

Assuming that the next few hours bear some resemblance to today's plan, I am about to take a hot shower in a lovely house, put on a few layers of warm, dry clothing to take a half-cheese-covered, half-vegan casserole to the Zen Monastery where there will be a giant room (former grade school cafeteria) full of my dearest spiritual companions.

One practice Chozen Roshi has taught is that of connecting gratitude with this very moment. To cultivate gratitude in any moment, even while just sitting and breathing. With each breath, repeating the phrase, "This is what is being given to me now."
To be given life in every moment is such an incredible mystery. One that in moments of sanity, I can actually appreciate.



And dogs. I so appreciate dogs. Maybe one is on its way to come and live with us someday soon. It's been almost a year since Cody died, and I find my heart opening more to the possibility of another dog. Here's some video medicine from the Oregon coast two weekends ago. May we all live with the exuberance and wholeheartedness of our canine Roshis.


Happy Thanksgiving!

The Five Remembrances

I am of the nature to grow old;
there is no way to escape growing old.

I am of the nature to have ill health;
there is no way to escape having ill health.

I am of the nature to die;
there is no way to escape death.

All that is dear to me and everyone I love
are of the nature of change;
there is no way to escape
being separated from them.

My deeds are my closest companions;
I am the beneficiary of my deeds.
my deeds are the ground
on which I stand.

Epiphany

I thought I would wait until after the Life Vows Sesshin to make a decision. Then I would know it was coming from a clear mind. But that's not how it happened.

Companion

It was just the right conversation at the right time, with the right person (my gratitude is boundless, Tay). And whatever movement that occurred then and there was certainly also the result of all of the work that had come before. The last snowflake to fall before the avalanche. No turning back now.

Burnout: February 2007

I have decided to take a Sabbatical. Finally. Just writing it makes my shoulders go down, and I exhale extra long. It also causes a subtle surge of energy to flow upwards through my body, and it causes a feeling of hopefulness and interest. Curiosity. Excitement.

Workhorses

How did this get under the Protestant Work Ethic Radar? What on Earth kind of justification did I come up with to legitimize this? Who do I think I am?

Inner Critic

Tay just calmly encouraged me to make a Plan. Look at Sabbatical applications and proposals from university websites, write objectives, market it. Indeed. I now have a manila folder labeled "Sabbatical," which proves it's real. I even have articles and information in said folder. I have also borrowed three books from the library on the subject. I am in the "geeking out" phase, and I am learning a lot.

I have yet to decide a few things:

1. Exactly What I Will Do
2. How Long It Will Be, and
3. When.

I do have a multitude of ideas for #1. And many of them are career-related, which is one way I have been able to throw a few bones to the Inner Critic and the Inner Puritans. I would like the answer to #2 to be a year. That's what my heart wants. And according to the books, I need to give my workplace LOTS of time to prepare, and also give myself lots of time to make this plan so I can submit a proposal. I have a couple obligations there that I can forsee needing to last into late Spring.

So right after this avalanche, my friend Senryu had an "Epiphany Party," which was something she made up because she noticed that Epiphany was on the calendar for January 6th, and became enamored of the word, and decided to have a bunch of her favorite women friends over, bringing all their crafting materials to share and to make something that would carry an intention into the new year.

I got there faster than you can say "glue gun."

And made this little Altoid box portable Shrine: It's a Shrine to the Transformation of My Relationship to Work (see front of shrine atop this post). My friend Robin is a wonderful collector and appreciator of little objets like these, and I acquired a few of the items from her last February. This little shrine has been wanting to be made for quite some time.

There are many butterflies for their obvious transformational energy. A star to orient myself in the right direction-- stars can only be seen when the sky (mind) is clear. A broom and what I thought was Cinderella's Fairy Godmother (close enough) to help me out of the toiling mind. There are lots of fully blossomed red paper roses. I am no longer a puppy in this field. A little frog in the corner -- they always symbolize Wise Mind to me -- a synthesis of Logic and Emotion Mind, because frogs can live on land and in water. I even dared to include that wonderful admonition from Joseph Campbell to "Follow Your Bliss," even though that still seems rather impossible.
I got to meet with my professional support group today, and share all this. I received so much validation and support. So much encouragement and love. This feels very real. And then tonight, while Patrick is away at a Blazers game, and I have the house to myself, I finally went to the mailbox, and there was a letter I had written to myself six months ago.
I wrote it at the Omega Institute when I was taking the training in Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction. The teachers gave us this task, and promised to hold our self-addressed letters until some undetermined time, then they would mail them. And of course, I had by now completely forgotten what I had written to myself then.

It was a lovely and reassuring message, with some heartfelt good advice. A reminder to Pause. Encouragement to keep the Inner Critic in perspective, because she is not going anywhere, and to treat even her with compassion. But mostly to treat myself with compassion.

Kwan Yin

"Go to bed early." This is so true. Laura of July 11, 2008, you were so right. That was coming from a very clear place. "Go to bed early" is the cornerstone of any subsequent regular morning practice. "Go to bed early" requires attention to my evenings and how they are spent. "Go to bed early" comes from that inner mother, that self-nurturing presence. "Go to bed early" is a way to be gentle with myself, and give love to myself in a very tangible, physical way.

But most importantly, to just allow myself to Be. To experience this life. This one wild and precious life. Thank you! Thank you everybody who is supporting me. I am so blessed.

The Paramitas and gratitude

In Autumn, our Sangha (the Buddhist word for "congregation") arranges to intensify our practice for a time known as "Ango."
Here is a wonderful description of what we are doing, cribbed totally from our "Head of Ango," who also happens to be my sweetie, Patrick. He wrote this for our Sangha's Facebook group:

We are about to enter our Autumn Practice Period, or "Ango". Ango begins Thursday November 6 and runs until December 18. It is an invitation to bring more practice into our life.

Ango, literally "peaceful dwelling," goes back to the time of Shakyamuni Buddha. During the rainy season, the wandering monks would come together for a time of increased meditation and discussion of the dharma. They must have felt a renewed connection to their Sangha as they all sat together with increased diligence.

So what does Ango mean for us? Typically, we make an increased practice commitment. It could be increased sitting at the Dharma Center, sitting zazen every day, mindfulness practices, chanting, mantra practice, or mindful eating. We will have a handouts for you to get ideas for things you might choose for Ango. Feel free to talk to one of the teachers or others for ideas.

The theme for Ango is the Six Paramitas, or "Perfections":

1. Generosity,
2. Ethical Living or Precepts,
3. Patience,
4. Diligence or Perseverence,
5. Concentration, and
6. Wisdom.
   

Dharma talks, readings and discussions will involve exploring the Paramitas and realizing them in our life.

So, please begin to ponder in the weeks ahead, "how will I invite more spiritual practice in my life?" "What commitment or practice vow will I make?" "What kind of support will I need?" Just as many of us can sit for longer periods or more still when we are together in the zendo, increasing our practice together can provide great support.

My own Ango commitment has included, as well as an increased home practice, a creative expression of each Paramita. This could manifest as a SoulCollage card, a blog entry, a photograph... anything.
We've been taking the Paramitas one per week, and have covered Generosity and Ethical Living. Here are the SoulCollage cards that have come from these:
Generosity. This card is inspired by something I read one time. I can't find it at all now. It wasn't The Giving Tree. It was some spiritual writing about generosity and giving, and how we sometimes can feel constricted, and often want to judge those to whom we give as "worthy" or "unworthy." We want to pick and choose to whom we are generous. Yet the pear tree, weighed down with fruit offers itself wholeheartedly and without any such condition. The pear tree gives freely. This was a vision that stuck with me, and I knew I had to have a pear tree in my generosity card.

Right Speech. I had initially gathered a bunch of images from the first Five Precepts, and thought I'd be putting them all in one card:

• Not to kill, but to cherish all life.
• Not to steal, but to respect the things of others.
• Not to lie, but to speak the truth.
• Not to misuse sexual energy, but to be honest and respectful.
• Not to misuse drugs and alcohol, but to keep the mind clear.

But it's kinda hard to get all that into one. So I looked and noticed that a few of the other Precepts deal with Right Speech too:

• Not to gossip about others, but to be understanding and sympathetic.
• Not to praise myself by criticizing others, but to work on my own shortcomings.
• Not to denigrate the Three Treasures, Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha, but to cherish and uphold them.

I certainly know that this is an area I can always use some attention and focus on. I try to remind myself with a Gatha -- a verse to recite that returns us to mindfulness-- by Thich Nhat Hanh. This is taped to my bathroom mirror:

Brushing Your Teeth

Brushing my teeth and rinsing my mouth,
I vow to speak purely and lovingly.
When my mouth is fragrant with right speech,
a flower blooms in the garden of my heart.

I am certainly practicing this, like everything else, imperfectly.

We are currently on Patience. Thich Nhat Hanh also has a book that outlines the paramitas as beautifully as anything. It's called the Heart of the Buddha's Teaching. He expands the definition of this paramita beyond this idea of patience, that can seem like so much foot-tapping, waiting, and just managing to tolerate a problem. He goes beyond patience and calls it inclusiveness. Inclusive like the Ocean is inclusive. Like the Earth is inclusive. Like Fire and Air are also inclusive, and completely non-judgmental, all having an infinite capacity to receive, embrace, and transform.

More on this later. I am brewing a card for this somehow. And it also wants to be connected to a concept I have the pleasure of teaching at work from DBT (Dialectical Behavior Therapy) called Radical Acceptance.

But until then, something I stumbled on in our earlier focus on generosity was the connection to gratitude.

In order to prime the pump for generosity, we can focus on our gratitude, and pay attention to all that we have; appreciating this life. This can be dome in every moment by simply reflecting: "This is what is being given to me right now." For some, it helps to say, "This is what God is giving me right now." This is a way to have constant contact with one's Higher Power. Always there is the breath. Life. Always there are the senses. What amazing gifts they are, and how wonderful to be reminded to appreciate them. This opens the heart, and helps with that feeling (andsometimes posture) of constriction. And it can also be used in difficult times. Looking back, I can see how the most difficult times were actually powerful gifts. It is nice to step back and see everything as a gift.

My sweetie just had an injury to his Achilles tendon, requiring surgery, which he just had yesterday. I am so grateful that he is and will be OK, that his surgeon is so wise and skillful, and that I can take the time to take care of him. We are so outrageously blessed with a community of friends and loved ones, and were cushioned by so many well-wishes of love and light. And just walking around in this Thanksgiving air; it seems like I can feel the gratitude practices all around me. Even the TV news has been showing all these heart-warming stories of generosity and kindness. Why the hell don't they do that all the time??? I might actually watch it if they did!

So that's the main thing. Grateful for the good fortune and comfort we enjoy. Grateful for a new presidential administration that may just allow more Americans to enjoy the same kind of comfort that comes from having health coverage. Grateful for my spiritual practice. Grateful for my home and my elderly dog, and old-lady kitty. A gratitude list can go on infinitely. I can be grateful for my tennis shoes and these cute arm-warmers my friend Dawn-- aka bamboolioness --made for me (and matching hat!). Check out her etsy shop. A sweet and gentle artist who is creating these lovelies from the last-chance content in the bins of the Goodwill.

And HOLY CRAP I actually won the drawing that my friend Tay was holding this month! I can't believe I won a piece of her stunning and wonderful jewelry! It's funny because even though I totally forgot about having entered the drawing, this morning I decided to wear a pair of earrings made by her (they are teeny little hammered metal bells with teeny little freshwater pearls that make them ring gently and non-annoyingly right in my ears). You MUST peruse her website at Honey & Milk. Also her etsy shop here. She is also an amazing artist and an awake and traveled soul.

Happy Thanksgiving!