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How do you handle transition in your life?

We all have periods of pronounced transition in our lives: We suffer a loss of a loved one, abilities or possessions; or we make a change in our residence, work or relationship. How does it feel when you go through something like that? Do you feel suddenly weightless? As if the earth under your feet has disappeared?

When we have big changes in our lives, often nothing seems the way it is supposed to be. We may feel disoriented and we struggle to find solid ground. From a Buddhist perspective, it’s better to simply be present with the weightlessness. Awareness of the transitory nature of life is something to appreciate rather than escape. If you think about it, we are always in a moment of transition. Life is like this. Wherever we think we are, we delude ourselves if we think it is solid and unchanging. This moment is always full of infinite possible directions radiating out. In any moment we can decide to go this way rather than that, or the winds of circumstance change our direction. Most of us tend to trod a solid-seeming path. If a GPS tracked our movements we would make a pattern of thick dark lines from home to work to our regular stores, restaurants, paths and hangouts, with a few faint traces for occasional adventures and bigger trips. There is nothing wrong with this. There’s no virtue in ‘shaking it up’ just to be different. But there is value in noticing that we are making choices all the time. Every moment is a point of transition.

There was an image that came to me many years ago that helps me understand this idea of being present with weightlessness: Imagine a balloon. What we call ‘life’ is inside the balloon. What we call ‘death’ is that moment of transition when the balloon pops or deflates and the air is released into the infinite air. And where are we in all this? Well, many of us are clinging to the edge of the inside of the balloon, trying to stay steady on what we believe to be solid ground, clinging to the surface, afraid of falling off. But some of us let go, for varying periods of time or indefinitely. We find that floating is possible, that the air supports us. We see in multiple directions and can turn freely. We can ride the currents, buffeted by winds that, if we were clinging to the side, would have our face smashed up against that chalky latex. Gag. When we’re clinging to the side so tightly, we might poke a hole in the surface.

When the balloon of life pops or deflates, if we are floating in the balloon we are whooshed out. That may be quite a ride but we know how to fly. We are not gripping to or getting entangled in the detritus of the balloon. We are used to being weightless, so even in this vaster air we feel supported.

I recently heard Buddhist teacher Tempel Smith talk about the importance of living a weightless life, so I was reminded of my balloon metaphor. Much of what we learn in Buddhism ultimately prepares us for the greatest transition point of our life, our own death. But the practice of living in a more mindful way has immediate benefits as well. Recognizing the transitional nature of life and noticing how we are in relationship with transition is useful if we are to live with ease, peace, joy and clarity of understanding. In our meditation practice we are cultivating awareness and compassion. No, life is not always pleasant, transitions can be challenging, and that’s part of our experience too. But if we are not clinging to some false sense of solid ground, feeling betrayed by change itself, we can dance in the air of existence, in a state of awe and wonder, weightless!

Worried? Read on!

Last week I had jury duty, so I made sure my calendar was clear in case I had to serve on a longish trial. It turned out that I didn't. But it gave me the opportunity to see how it felt to have a clear calendar, and wow, I have to say, it felt very very pleasant.

That sense of ease and openness made me realize that in my inner landscape of mental activity, future events are sometimes like black holes that suck up a lot of energy. This goes beyond simple planning. Long after the planning is done, the mind might be drawn into that black hole, circling around the anticipated event -- a trip, a social gathering or something like jury duty -- pretty much anything that has unknown elements, which is everything in the future, isn't it? Being a woman, charged full of oxytocin, the 'bonding hormone', I also expend a lot of mental energy worrying about the well being of my loved ones.

Sound familiar? Well, don't worry about it. It's part of the human condition. Over 2600 years ago, the Buddha identified worry as one of the Five Hindrances (Sensual Desire, Aversion, Restlessness & Worry, Sloth & Torpor, and Doubt). Maybe for you, one of the other Hindrances is more a presence in your life. Most of us have all of them to varying degrees. But why did he call them 'hindrances'? What are they hindrances to? They can get in the way of opening to and receiving this moment fully. This doesn't mean we have to get rid of these hindrances. Good luck with that! But we benefit by noticing them when they arise in our awareness, seeing them for what they are. Simply noticing them in a spacious compassionate way weakens their power to hold us.

I have written about all the hindrances in the past, and you are welcome to check out those posts, but let's stay with worry for now. You can see how worry gets in the way of being fully present. The mind is stuck circling that black hole of future event or the black hole of what someone we love is experiencing, and it keeps going there even when there is absolutely nothing more we can do about it now.

When we meditate, we are practicing making ourselves fully available to the sensations of this moment. With openness to whatever arises in our experience and compassion for ourselves when we find we've gotten lost in thought, we return our attention to the breath or other physical sensation. In that moment we come to understand the way of things: We see that there is impermanence, so we know that this too shall pass. We see that we are all of a piece here, made of the same microscopic stuff as the air we breath the earth we walk on and each other. And we see how when we forget those two things - impermanence and no-separate self -- we suffer because we get caught up in grasping at lifesavers and clinging to cliffs, shoring up barriers, chasing after empty promises and running away from imagined monsters. All of which takes a whole lot of mental energy.

So worry if you will, but be aware of the quality of worrying. Don't make an enemy of worry, but see it for what it is. Be compassionate with whatever arises. There's nothing wrong here.

Yesterday Will and I went on a hike on Hoo-Koo-e-Koo trail up in the hills of Kentfield, CA. Most of the trail is fairly level, following the contours of the mountain, in and out of canyons. In normal years there is at least a little waterfall running down each canyon, but now in early fall, after four years of drought, even the deepest cool dark canyon is dry. Standing there, surrounded by hillsides of bay trees, ferns and dried leaves and the boulders normally covered with a cascade, we stood still to listen to the absolute silence. The stillness I experienced there is akin to the stillness deep in a meditation. So peaceful. Accepting the moment as it is, not wishing the water was running; not worrying, in that moment, about whether there will be rain in our future: That is what we are learning to do with our practice.

Are you feeling out of balance in your life?

At the autumnal equinox, the midway point on the earth's axis, night and day are the same length. It always makes me think of balance. But does that mean that the rest of the year the earth is out of balance? Of course not. And our lives don't have to be out of balance just because everything in them is not equal. One of the major life skills we learn through the practice of meditation is equanimity, the ability to hold whatever arises in life without getting out of balance.

'Where am I out of balance?' is a question I ask myself if I'm feeling disjointed. I might realize that I've been over-efforting, with my 'eye on the prize' instead of being present in the moment as I do the work at hand. Or I might find I've been too sedentary. I do love to lounge but too much lounging leads to lethargy. Getting out for hiking or dancing lets me feel more alive and balanced. Maybe I've been tightly-focused in my thinking, going around in circles, and find balance in opening to take in a broader view. I might feel maxed out on being super social and need some alone time. Or vice versa. Each of us has different set points for activity, social engagement, etc. Where our set point is may change over time, but it's useful to notice.

The body is attuned to balance and gives us lots of cues when it recognizes that our thought-emotion override button has been pushed once too often. What are some of the cues your body gives you? Aches? Illness? Restlessness? Tiredness? In mindfulness practice we are learning is to notice physical sensation. As we develop greater ability in this area, we can also develop better interpretive skills, and take the body's message to heart. We might go for a walk, go to bed earlier, say 'no' to an invitation if we want to. We might say 'yes' to something that is outside our normal routine but somehow feels very right, if a little scary. As a Toastmaster, I felt myself and have witnessed many others take that first brave step to overcome the fear of attending a meeting or give a speech. I remember transitioning from believing that I was just naturally shy to overcoming a fear that was keeping me from so much I wanted to do in life. Taking that step was part of bringing myself into balance.

As we develop our meditation practice we also may find that we are less victimized by circumstances and better able to find a quality of equanimity regardless of causes and conditions. There are times in life when conditions are not perfect, when extra energy or extra rest is required. You're up all night with a sick child, for example, and there's just no rest possible. Or you are ill and resting is enforced by the fact that you're too weak to rise. At these times it isn't useful to be attached to the idea that in order to be happy you need perfect amounts of sleep or activity. Life does not always conform to these needs, does it? Making our own happiness dependent on certain conditions makes us ping pong balls in the game of life. Whack! In fact most of us have more stamina and fortitude than we ever imagined to do what we need to do when there's no choice but to do it. If we lace our thoughts during this period with worry that we will suffer greatly from lack of rest or over-exertion, then we set ourselves up and fulfill our own expectations of doom. But, once that period is through, then we allow for a balancing rest instead of moving on immediately to the next crisis, making this frenzied way of being the norm in our lives.

We find a balance that is in tune with the body's messages, based on what we've found fosters wellbeing, AND we accept that there will be times when a perfectly balanced schedule is not possible.

Finding balance at work is a challenge when the lines between work-time and off-time are blurred by the ease with which we can be reached at any hour of the day. We each make our own choices as to how available we will be. No job requires that we be on call 24/7/365. If you dispute that, talk to your supervisor. If you are your own boss, hire someone to give yourself regular respite, or simply define 'off' periods for yourself. The refreshed quality you bring to your 'on' times will more than make up for any delayed response. In fact, it is a gift to others to model this kind of balanced living. My neighbor is an in-demand author, speaker and consultant to Fortune 500 companies. She is her own boss and has no assistance. But she always claims set times for herself to garden, hike, cook and socialize. She has a balanced life. I was amazed when she told me she never checks email on weekends. There's a big lesson in there: To be effective in our work role, we need to claim space that is totally free from it.

Meditation practice most definitely needs tech-free space. On retreat at Spirit Rock Meditation Center, cell phones are left behind or deposited in a basket to be held by the retreat manager. There are no video or audio presentations, no radio or recorded music, only the pleasure of silence and the evening dharma talks of the teachers.  The retreat experience helps us to refine our home practice because it shows us the value of silence. Perhaps one of the reasons meditation has become so popular is that people find it so difficult to justify turning off their gadgets for any other reason. Our agricultural ancestors in the course of a day spent extended periods of time alone in nature, working or walking or riding. Inside any sounds were not funneled in on wires from elsewhere. It was quiet or there were homemade sounds. It's in our genes to need that quiet downtime in our lives as well. We can enjoy our gadgets all the more when we give ourselves periods of time away from them.

One of the ways we enjoy our gadgets is through social media that our pioneer ancestors would certainly envy. We can stay in close touch with friends and family around the world. And we make new friends based on shared interests, finding communities of like-minded people with whom we can share ideas. It's very easy (believe me!) to get a bit addicted to that sense of connection. But there's another sense of connection that is worth noticing: When we open to the trees, the breeze, the birds, squirrels and lizards, the clouds, the creek, etc. all right there available to make us feel intrinsically a part of nature. Can we come fully present in the moment, whatever we are doing, bringing ourselves into balance by being here instead of mentally pulled all over the place? Finding balance is being skillful in how we use the technology we've been given, and knowing when to set it aside.

When we give ourselves space and time to be present and attuned to the body without distractions, we naturally come into balance. We come home to the joy that is inherent in being alive.

EXERCISE

If you feel a little addicted to your phone or computer, claim some more space for yourself:

• If possible, turn the phone or the ringer off and put it in another room when you are sleeping.
• Check email and social media at a planned time once or twice a day rather than all day long.
• Consider taking a day or two off from it on a weekly basis.
• Take a trip into nature and leave your phone off.
• Tell friends and family you text with not to take it personally or worry if you don't respond immediately.

If you never seem to have enough time to meditate or take a walk in nature or have lunch with a dear friend, maybe you are thinking of them as rewards, and that you don't deserve them until you've accomplished something. If that's the case then stop thinking of them as rewards. These are necessary. Claim time for them. Note them on your calendar, not as rare  treats or defaults but as locked in and important.

Notice physical sensation, not just in meditation but always. Let the wise body guide you to balance.

What are you cultivating in your life?

Cultivate is a very accurate and satisfying word for what we do in meditation. We cultivate spaciousness. We cultivate ease. We cultivate kindness and compassion.

There is a quality of patience with cultivating. You plant a seed and trust that with regular watering something will happen. There is no immediate expectation. The process involves us but is not completely a product of our will. We are tapping into the nature of things. It is the nature of things to grow. It is within our nature to be peaceful, to have more clarity in our minds and more compassion in our hearts.

At the beginning of a sitting practice, it can be useful to identify this activity of 'cultivating spacious ease'. Yes, it is an activity. Meditation is not completely passive, although it may look that way, and sometimes it may feel that way. We actively develop wise intention: to be present in this moment and to be compassionate with ourselves when we discover we haven't been present at all. We develop wise effort: that easeful balance where we are relaxed but alert. We are alert but receptive. We open to the generous sunlight of awareness and allow it to grow wisdom within us.

I have been finding that the phrase 'cultivating spacious ease' helps me to develop balanced effort. Perhaps later in the meditation I might find myself lost in thought. If the thoughts are judgemental, I might use the phrase 'cultivating kindness' or 'cultivating compassion'. Notice how different these are from 'I should be kinder,' 'I should be more compassionate,' or 'What a mean rotten person I am.' Cultivating these qualities accepts that I am not necessarily being kind or compassionate right now, but I am cultivating those qualities and with steady attention and patience they may grow within me.

Cultivation also allows for the unknown to be present in our meditation. In the garden we may cultivate seeds of one flower only to discover later, after the leaves and petals show up, that it is another flower entirely. Can we have enough spacious ease to welcome the flowers that bloom within us, whatever kind they are? In our lives we may think we know what we need, what will make us happy, what will make us feel fulfilled, but the truth is we don't have all the answers. Can we live in the questions themselves? Can we dance in the mystery of life? Our desire to have everything locked down, named, numbered and filed alphabetically, doesn't really suit the natural way of things. We may think it makes us more secure, but it's a ruse. Believing ourselves to know anything for sure only guarantees a more painful falling apart when it turns out differently from what we so firmly believed.

Cultivating spacious ease makes room for wonder in our lives: Both the questioning kind of wonder and the awestruck kind of wonder. Cultivating spacious ease makes room for our buddha nature, our own access to universal wisdom, to whisper its truth to us in our most quiet, relaxed and attentive moments of meditation. In that moment it might name the seed we are planting in the nourishing space we have created through our practice.

We are always cultivating something in our lives, aren't we? It's useful when we are in distress to ask 'What am I cultivating here?' Sometimes we are cultivating fear. We are using that hoe to dig up a lot of dirt! In that realization we might take the time to pause, access compassion and awareness, and plant the seeds that will nourish us.

Three Supports Needed for a Balanced Happy Life

When we sit in meditation, there are three points of support: the buttocks and two knees, if sitting on a cushion on the floor, or the buttocks and two feet if sitting in a chair. This is the triangle that provides full support to sustain our practice. In Buddhism, there are three supports as well:  The Buddha, the dhamma and the sangha. They work together and all are equally important. Traditionally these three are called the Three Refuges or the Three Jewels or Triple Gem. Both these feel true when you are already familiar with them. When you know the comfort and clarity they provide, you want to take refuge in them. When you are fully present with them in a balanced way, they radiate like jewels. But for beginners to understand them, I like to present them as supports because starting anything new, we need all the support we can get!

Let’s explore each a little more fully:

Buddha means awakened, and there is always some core part of us that is awake. It is often hidden under layers of dust, ignored as we chase after and run from the Eight Worldly Winds. Our buddha nature, that wise balanced presence, is accessed through regular meditation practice, where we cultivate spacious ease and compassion for ourselves and all beings. 

Dhamma (aka dharma) is the wisdom shared by the Buddha and other awakened teachers throughout human history. The dhamma is also taught by the forest, the sea, the hills and all the inhabitants who live in harmony with the natural way of things. We listen to the dhamma, we observe the dhamma, and we are inspired to insights into our own nature. We come to a deeper more compassionate understanding of life. 

Sangha is the community of meditation practitioners who support each other in our practice and in our lives. When everyone around us is living a distracted life, it can be very difficult for us to choose a different course. When we come together on a regular basis with people who share our intention to meditate and live mindfully, we are inspired to keep this practice of meditation a regular part of our lives and to live authentically from a sense of connection with all beings. We are reminded why we love the practice and how much it means to us. (I always extend my sangha to include anyone who supports me in my practice, even if they are not meditating themselves. In our class, most of the women have mates who do not meditate, but all are supportive of it because their wives are so much happier.)

Are you enjoying the benefits of all three of these supports of buddha, dhamma and sangha? Are you finding refuge in them? Or are you forgetting one or more of them? Perhaps you have had glimpses into your own buddha nature, but have not set the wise intention to practice meditation to cultivate spacious ease so that you are operating from that buddha nature rather than being tossed to and fro in life, trying to be all things to all people.

Or perhaps you have a regular meditation practice, but it is dry for you. Is there enough dhamma in your life? (Not drama! Dhamma!) Are you reading, listening or attending dhamma talks? Are you taking quiet strolls in nature, pausing to notice what wisdom is there?

Or perhaps you listen to talks online or read books, and are inspired to practice, but have no sense of community, no one to answer questions that come up and no feeling of support in your practice.

You can see how the buddha, the dhamma and the sangha all work together to make a balanced lifelong practice that brings joy, ease and balance to your life.

If chanting is part of your preferred practice, here is the traditional Pali chant for taking these three refuges:

Buddham saranam gacchami (I go to the Buddha for refuge)

Dhammam saranam gacchami (I go to the Dhamma for refuge)

Sangham saranam gacchami (I go to the Sangha for refuge)

CLASS NEWS

Our women's meditation group in San Rafael, CA is starting up again Thursday, September 10, 2015 from 10 - 11:30. Contact me at stephanienoble.com/contact.html if you are interested in joining us for a nurturing, fun and inspiring sharing of dhamma in a sweet sangha of wise women with time to meditate and access your own buddha nature. If you are not able to attend but would like to follow along, subscribe to this blog at the top right of this page.

Infinite Joy in this Finite Life

In this life each of us has only a finite number of sunrises and sunsets, even fewer full moons, even fewer splendid seasons and favorite holidays, even fewer times with a beloved child at this unique phase of their life, and even fewer moments with an elder on the verge of transition. This thought can make us depressed. We want it all to go on forever so that we can relax and be casual about it, rest in it, trust in it. But it's so finite that we may scold ourselves for not gorging fully in every second of it. We may feel bad that we are not sufficiently appreciative of this gift of life.

These kinds of feelings can spark a renewed intention to practice meditation. We know this regular practice will help us develop the mindfulness to experience infinite joy in the finite moments of our lives.

What we find in the process is that meditation can help us develop compassion for ourselves as we live our lives in a way that works best for us. Yes, we are more present to appreciate this gift of life in all its variations, but we may see that we don't have to rush around to seek out every amazingly beautiful moment of earthly pleasure. We discover that even the most ordinary moment when fully experienced is infinitely satisfying in beauty and depth.

Take this moment for example. You are reading, I am writing. Let's both just take a moment here to notice all that is going on. Sense into the body. Notice the overall energy in the body, temperature, textures, the breath rising and falling, the feeling of support the earth provides, any sounds going on in this moment, and any smells available, maybe some discomfort or pain, maybe some pleasurable sensation. Now look around and notice the light, color, patterns, shadows, and the contrast of values. Open to this moment of being, releasing judgments, cultivating compassion, noting gratitude. Ah.

See what I mean? No matter where you are, if you greet this moment sincerely with all your senses, the moment reveals all its treasure.

My mother had a great lust for life, and in her later years every full moon she would organize an evening picnic on the easternmost point of our fair city overlooking the bay. Three generations gathered together to watch the moonrise. It was special, and I am so grateful she did that. In the years since she died there have been many times when I notice myself feeling guilty that I missed a moonrise, again. I have often had private moments with the setting moon out my bedroom window, so it is not the moon I am missing. And I am very involved with my own children and grandchildren, so it is not the three-generation event I am missing. Maybe I am just missing her. And I have a long habit of comparing myself to the woman she was and coming up short. But when it came to full moonrises, she knew she had only a dozen or so more to experience. And that is a great motivator.

I remember when my husband and I planned a trip to enjoy the autumn leaves in New England. After I had made all the reservations at cute little B&B's, his work informed him that he just could not be spared at this time, that he would have to postpone his trip. Postpone? Did they think the autumn leaves would just linger on the tree limbs until he could get time off? We cancelled the trip, but it started him thinking about the finite nature of the years we had left and not long after he quit his job and started being a full time artist. The next year we did go East to see the leaves, but wouldn't you know it, everywhere we went people would say, 'Oh, you should have been here last year. The colors were so amazing.'

How is it for you? Do you feel the finite nature of this fleeting life? Does it make you feel you need to fill your life with amazing experiences?

In this consumer culture, it's easy to develop a consumer mentality around life experiences, acquiring stamps on passports, photos on the internet and checks on bucket lists. It's easy to get into an acquisitive relationship with life. But what do we really 'have' in the end?

Some people say they do extreme sports because it's the only time they really feel alive. Every year we see people doing increasingly dangerous things with the only bodies they have in this life. I am so grateful that none of my children seem to have that need! A less extreme way of feeling that aliveness is through travel where everything is new and engages us in a way our habitual life does not because we live on auto-pilot, get lost in past and future thoughts, and everything becomes a dull redundancy.

But it doesn't have to be that way. No two moments are ever the same. We don't need to go away to experience this moment as new, fresh and alive. Certainly we can travel to interact with other people, to practice other languages, to learn our way is not the only way, and to deepen our understanding of what it is to be in this body on this planet at this point in time. But no matter where we are, if we are fully present and compassionate, we won't have missed a thing.

We can bring the infinite joy of being fully present to savor each moment in this oh-so finite life.

Fire! Fear and Meditation

Last night a swirl of smoke moved in from the east where forest fires are burning uncontained in multiple areas here in Northern California. The brown cloud covered the sun, turning it bright red. My mind filled with scenes of tinderbox forests and golden hillsides in towering flames as valiant firefighters work endless hours to protect whatever they can. I send them metta, loving- kindness: May they be well. May they be free from harm. I feel a welling up of gratitude for their efforts. Then I look out at the forest where we Iive and feel the fear I always feel in this dry season, but especially now after years of drought. I don't want to think about the devastation that could happen before my eyes, taking away our home, our neighborhood, the glorious little eco-system on this hill, the restful green beauty that soothes me, but every time I hear sirens, I feel tension in my body as fear leaps into the foreground of my awareness.

What is the benefit of the regular practice of meditation, you might reasonably ask, if you still experience this kind of fear and worry? Shouldn't I, a long-time practitioner and a teacher of meditation, be all blissed out? I remember Mad Magazine's Alfred E. Neuman and his goofy grin saying 'What me worry?' I think of Janis Joplin singing 'Freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose.' This is why theoretically monks have a better chance at a bliss state: They have given up all material incumbrances. But the human mind is funny. It quite naturally builds 'something' even out of what some might call nothing. And then it protects that something fiercely. Remember the Tassajara fire where Buddhist monks risked their lives to defend the monastery? Brave. Foolish. Those two words are so often entwined.

People who have lost their homes to tornados always thank God that the family survived. Their house and all those mementos now destroyed and scattered for miles will be missed, of course, but that force of nature that tore through the neighborhood left behind a harsh but valuable lesson on what really matters.

Whatever we lose we can always imagine something worse. That is the nature of the human mind. And when that worse thing happens -- because we do lose family members, don't we? -- we amazingly find some way to live with that. 

It is the nature of the human mind to care, and I for one appreciate that. We care deeply! Meditation practice doesn't cause us not to care. It is not a drug to bring a state of oblivion. Instead it creates a compassionate spacious ease where we can see more clearly the activity of the mind and how we are in relationship to all aspects of our lives and the world around us. We can see how we cause ourselves and others suffering through grasping, clinging and pushing away.

Meditation can't stop the fires, of course. But the awareness that arises in meditation allows me to notice the tension in my body and the fear that causes it. I can pause and breathe into the tension, relaxing and releasing it to whatever degree is possible in this moment. I can see how my childhood fears of fire are easily activated. I see that little girl I was being terrified by a TV movie about children trapped in an elevator with the orphanage on fire, and how my mother, knowing how fearful I was, always made sure my bedroom in all the homes we lived in had a fire escape. And how that fear also made me the most qualified candidate in my elementary school to be Fire Chief. I used to get to decide when we would have a fire drill, and I and my four (boy) deputies would stay in the building to monitor the drill and then go around and give reports to all the classrooms. All of these memories live inside me and contribute to what is happening here and now. I don't need to get lost in them, but mindfulness practice helps me see not just what's going on but its source as well.

As long as I know our emergency evacuation plan, I have no reason to live in future thoughts. I can practice being present in this moment with all that is happening here and now -- the cool air coming in the screen door, the sunlight on the mountain, the sounds of birds, traffic, my husband doing Tai Chi on the deck, the feel of being supported by my seat, my fingers on the keyboard, my breath rising and falling. For many years  I have been training my mind to come home to this moment. This moment fully sensed can hold all my fears and worries, acknowledged with compassion. This mindfulness practice is so spacious that the worries are like little threads traveling through. They haven't disappeared, but I see them in context. I am not tangled up in them. They are not choking me. Quieting down and cultivating compassion and ease allows me to live with the vagaries of life and still fully experience the sweet gift of this moment.

Feeling a little tense, are you?

Sometimes I find myself all tense and worried about a current situation, and I fall into the belief that once this is over I can really relax. And then it is over and I'm glad, but my body is still tense! What's up with that?

The body has a strong preference for the here and now, so when the mind has cast a net into the future, the body tightens up, creates discomfort and even pain as a reminder to release the net and come back to this, just this.

The body so wants me to be here now that even as I'm writing this I can feel my body purring like a cat!

Oil painting by Stephanie Noble

If you feel tense, pause to sense into your body. What do you notice? Where exactly do you feel tension? We all have places we chronically hold tension and it's useful to know where they are so in a moment of crisis we can gently focus on that area, softening its grip.

Once you have identified the area(s) of tension, spend some time relaxing and releasing the tension in whatever way works best for you. Maybe send it the message 'Relax' or 'Release' or another word or phrase that soothes you like 'Let go'. Maybe imagine breathing into that area, softening it with the warmth of your breath.

Now notice other sensations in the body, places where there is no tension. Find a pleasant or neutral sensation and it will remind you that there is more going on in your body and in your life than just this situation that is causing you tension.

Use all your senses. Listen to the various sounds around you without getting caught up in attaching them to preferences or references that draw you into the past or future. It's just a symphony of sounds. Look around you and notice all the light and dark contrasts, the colors, patterns, shadows and reflections. See if you can smell anything. If not, you might go find something to smell - the cinnamon in the spice cabinet or the flowers on the table. (Smelling things was a big part of our childhoods but we often don't use it now except to notice something unpleasant. My little granddaughters sometimes generously share their blankies, offering them up to be smelled. All the comfort they derive from these little soft squares of fuzzy fabric is in that cozy scent.)

There are so many sensations available to us in any given moment: texture, temperature, the dampness inside our mouths, the breath that rises and falls in our chest, the feel of the earth supporting us. The more we are able to access sensation, the more present we are in this moment. The more present we are in this moment, the more we are able to live fully with clarity and compassion.

So come to your senses, release whatever tension you can and see if it doesn't make you purr!

Freedom is the American Way

I have never felt prouder to be an American than I do today. Most Independence Days I enjoy the parades and fireworks but am conflicted about this beloved country, how it has come to be the bully on the world's playground. I have sometimes chosen to call this day 'Interdependence Day' instead, rooting for us to play well with other countries and also treat our own citizens with fairness and respect.

But this past week I have felt such joy at the progress we have made as a nation, thanks to several Supreme Court decisions that assure patients the right to  medical treatment and same-sex couples the right to marry in all states and have that marriage recognized by the Federal government.

For those for whom this is not great news, please spend some time with your fears. Inquire within instead of just falling back on unexamined opinions. For example, some say that gay marriage threatens heterosexual marriages. In what way could this be true? When I saw all those couples lined up around the San Francisco Civic Center waiting all day to be wed in that first brief window of opportunity, I was reminded that marriage is indeed valued, a privilege, something worth cherishing. Those couples willingness to wait all day to be married (because they had been waiting for years for the right to be married!) naturally increased my appreciation for my own marriage, reminding me how fortunate I am.

What threatens marriage in our culture is not those couples who want it for themselves, who have committed relationships, who have created families, who contribute to the community with their dedication to make this a better world for their children. No, what threatens marriage is those who devalue it, like the heterosexual couple who gets drunk in Las Vegas and wakes up the next morning with more than a hangover, and then needs an annulment. What threatens marriage is people of any sexual orientation who take their vows casually, without consideration of the seriousness of this commitment.

I remember in the 1970's it was very hard to be married because for a marriage to thrive it needs to be supported by the community, by parents and friends, but also by the culture. My husband and I were fortunate to have the support of both sets of parents. But when I met new people, coworkers or friends of friends, and they took note of my wedding ring, it wasn't unusual to hear the question 'Why are you married?' So many people were getting divorced. The single life was supreme. Our local Fourth of July parade which today is full of family-oriented floats, was back then a long series of bands playing on flatbed trucks, each one sponsored by a singles bar wanting to promote its venue. Standing curbside for that parade with our children could be at times a little iffy, as the floats were floating on more than gas and goodwill, and the writhing dancers on them sometimes lacked good judgment. All in fun, but a very adult brand of fun.

Heterosexuals are sometimes squeamish imagining gay sex. The ew factor. I suppose that goes both ways. So don't imagine it! It's private! Not our business! But it IS our business as fellow human beings when others are being shamed and funneled into a world of casual encounters for their basic human needs. And that's what the denial of the right to marry really has meant historically. The back alley bar and bathhouse activities that may have been viewed as 'gay' were really the result of the cultural and legal denial of normal channels of meeting, dating and marrying. Imagine if you and your mate had such restrictions? It wasn't that long ago that just being gay could get you arrested and imprisoned. What if you and your true love had no rights and no future, and you had to keep that most treasured part of your life an absolute secret and live a lie. In my parents' youth they only realized a friend was homosexual after he committed suicide. No one was out of the closet. And that was bad for everyone! It was bad for me back when I was a single woman dating. On occasion I dated men who confused me by claiming to want me but seemed conflicted. My 'gaydar' was not very sensitive, but my feelings were, and I had them hurt when a man played the part but could not honestly reciprocate because, though he so wanted it to be otherwise, he was only attracted to men. Society told him to keep trying to be straight and that was very trying for me and other single women. I imagine there were also men who were baffled by the inability of their girl friends to work up any enthusiasm for romance. I remember a guy I knew in college who I dated only briefly because he was so scarred by his last girlfriend who finally confessed she was a lesbian. With me he had to keep doublechecking, 'Could you imagine me being a girl?' and other weird questions. Poor guy. How much better it is today when we can love who we love and not mislead anyone else out of a desperate desire to conform. And a desperate desire to not be arrested, fired from our job and ostricized by our community.

This supreme court decision is a victory for all of us, not just gays. We aspire to be the land of liberty. We pride ourselves on the freedoms our country provides. Sometimes it takes us a while to see that the traditions of the past have not always been clear-seeing in this regard. It took a while for many to see that slavery was wrong, and a hard fought war created an untenable rift in our American family that is still being felt today as some cling to the flag of rebellion. It took a while for many to see that women are people and should have equal rights. It took a while to see that this land was made for you and me, not just white men. And it will still take a while for some to see that gay people have been denied a most basic freedom, the freedom to marry. Now a gay person is assured the right to marry the person they want to make a life with, the person who will be there through sickness and health, the person who will be a helpmate and equally responsible for raising their children, the person who will raise them up when they are feeling down, the person who will be by their side when they are dying. They will have the property rights that hetero couples take for granted. And their children will have the security and respect they deserve. How can anyone who has taken the marriage vow, who has enjoyed the many benefits of marriage feel justified in denying it to anyone else?

A great injustice has been righted this week. And my appreciation of my marriage and my country has deepened because of it. Happy Fourth of July! We have a lot to celebrate.

All about birthdays

Ah, my birthday. Again.

I remember when birthdays took forever to arrive. All that anticipation! One of my granddaughters recently turned five and she could barely contain herself with the anxious excitement. It seemed like her special day would never come, especially since she had to somehow survive her little sister's birthday the week before. By the end of that day she retreated to her bed, all pouty and sad. I whispered in her ear that in a few more hours it wouldn't be her sister's birthday anymore. I don't know if that was skillful, but it certainly cheered her up.

At my age birthdays seem to come around much faster, in turn making them seem more ordinary. Every day on Facebook it's some friend's birthday. It's like a birthday ball bouncing around in a circle and each of us holds it for a brief moment before it passes on to someone else. In that moment it's fun to be the center of attention, but it's also a relief to let it go.

Some of us dread our birthdays as annoying reminders that yet another year has passed. There’s no getting around the fact that this corporal life is finite. Finding a way to be in a comfortable relationship with impermanence is a big vital challenge. We get training by our losses, each one carving out a little more understanding if we take the time to be present with our grief; or a little more frantic denial if we ignore it.

By this time in our lives it's not the number of years we've accumulated but how we have lived that makes us feel old or young. Wallowing in regret, freaking out about the future, over-indulging and striving for distant goals all seem to add years. Living in the moment with whole-hearted authenticity, a sense of unity with all beings may make us seem younger, or may make us not care how old we look!

If our age doesn't correlate with how we feel inside, like some alien label that doesn't fit, it’s only that we have a whole set of misconceptions to what being that age looks like and means. If we can recognize that this right here is what this age feels like and looks like, then we can age with more ease.

My biggest problem with birthdays has been that I felt so naked in my 'birthday suit', waiting, passive and powerless, until this strange day passed. I create my life the way I want the other 364 days of the year, but on my birthday there was a sense of having to pass the baton for the day and hope that someone would carry it. Would the designated people 'responsible' for my birthday (close relatives and friends since our youth) remember to call or send a card? If so, phew. If not, woe is me. Fortunately I began to notice how people often take control over their own birthdays, throwing parties and creating the day they want for themselves. What a relief to have permission to do the same.

Throughout my birthday there were impromptu visits, cards, phone calls, emails, text messages and Facebook greetings. How delightful! This is the first year I have let Facebook broadcast my birthday to my friends. I realized how much I rely on it to remind me of friends' birthdays and allow me to easily send them good wishes, so why should I be so churlish? It felt great to get greetings, and at every notification throughout the day I would immediately 'like' and 'comment'. When my oldest son called and I told him I was feeling a wee bit overwhelmed, he said, "Mom, you just wait til the next day and respond to everyone with one comment, like: "Thanks everyone for all your birthday greetings. I had a great day and you helped to make it so.' Brilliant. I'll remember that for next year! Maybe.

There was also a year when I realized that a birthday can be simply a day to be grateful for having been born. How about a shout out to the mother who went through labor all those years ago? And to the father who played his part so well? And to the doctor who delivered us? My doctor was said to be grateful to me for coming out quick enough so that he didn't miss his tee time at the golf course. Oh yes, I was a born people-pleaser.

Finding a way to live with this 1/365th of our life experience can be challenging. Some seem to do it so easily while others struggle. A birthday is a good day to be especially present to listen to the kind loving words of others and to notice the inner conversation that can make the day either pleasant or a living hell.

Last year I spent my birthday on retreat at Spirit Rock Meditation Center. It fell on Day Four of the retreat, and I was so happy to feel so fully alive in silence, aware of everything. It felt like the best birthday ever.

Maybe having had that birthday 'time out' from social interaction and the possibility of expectation last year, allowed me to come to this birthday with a fresher, less needy way of being. In the early morning hours when I woke up to see it was going to be a really hot day, I decided what I wanted: To have a picnic lunch in a shady place, and if my kids and grand-kids were available then we'd have it in a shady playground by a creek. And in the evening maybe we could sit out in the warm night at a local French restaurant and have a dinner salad. And thus I formulated a spontaneous birthday that suited the day and suited me, and it too was the best birthday ever.

Wishing you all wonderful birthdays whenever they are and however you choose to spend them. And thanks once again to the many people who made this birthday so lovely. And oh yes, most especially, Thanks Mom! You are always in my heart, and I’ll always feel gratitude for your greatest gift to me: This very life.

The Wisdom of the Breath, the last tetrad of the Anapanasati Sutta

The fourth and final tetrad of the Anapanasati Sutta is called the Wisdom Group. Continuing to be present with the breath, the Buddha instructs us first to focus on impermanence. We can do this by noting how sensations in the body arise and fall away, how the breath itself changes over the course of our meditation practice.

Then he asks us to focus on 'fading away'. What could this mean? Is it  the edges of who we hold ourselves to be that fade away? With your eyes closed, see if you can tell where this defined person you call 'me' ends and where 'other' begins.

Without the sense of sight those edges disappear, don't they. With the eyes closed the sense of body loses its tight definition. And with a focus on the breath we are even less sure about clearly defined edges, aren't we? The breath is inside us and outside us. Where are the boundaries we previously took for granted?

Is there also a sense of 'self' that softens and loses its edge? Not just the body but our rigid idea of who we are? (Read more about this.)

Next the Buddha asks us to focus on cessation as we breathe. We know that life in this body is temporal, but in this culture we like to pretend that death is an option. I was reminded of this recently when my husband and I were in Mexico writing our Mexican wills and we were asked to write out When I die.... American wills shy away from such a simple statement of fact. I thought maybe they say something like 'in the case of my demise' but when I looked up a standard will template I discovered it avoids the mention death at all, just leaps right into instructions to the heirs! That's how much we are in denial about our own death in this country. The death of strangers in the news, movies and books we find fascinating, but we’re not able to acknowledge that such an event is in the cards for us.

Coming into a deep awareness of the temporal nature of our lives is not depressing but freeing. Our acceptance illuminates the value of being fully here to enjoy life in this moment. It lets us see it as a natural part of the cycle of life.

You can investigate this yourself by sitting with awareness of your temporal nature. You might say to yourself, 'On some undisclosed date I will definitely die.' And then sit with that and see what you notice. Is there added tension in the body? Does the breath get shallower? What emotions and thoughts arise in your awareness?

The last step in the Anapanasati Sutta asks us to focus on relinquishment. When we understand and accept the temporal nature of life, accept that this body is an integral part of a whole complex set of processes and is not separate, and accept that everything is impermanent, then what is it we are relinquishing? We relinquish our fear. We relinquish our clinging to beliefs that don't serve us. We relinquish it all and open to the joy of awakening to this moment, just as it is with clarity and compassion.

So those are the sixteen steps. If it interests you then you can read Larry Rosenberg's book Breath by Breath. You can also listen to the dharmaseed.org recordings of Tempel Smith's daylong retreat at Spirit Rock that I attended in March 2015.