On Saturday morning I went for my biweekly massage. While I was there, I realized a couple of things, one being that I need to reread Thich Nhat Hanh's book Being Peace. I first read this in 1992, bit by bit, and have returned to parts of it many times. This time I knew I had to read all the way through.
After I returned home, I got right on it. It wasn't long before I wrote this in my journal:
I have already started reading and my eyes are opening.
I'm realizing just how much I've let the current circumstances give me "permission" to be a bitch.
I knew it felt wrong. But it was easier.
Thay (his nickname) suggests doing "gathas" -- four lines that help you focus. Here is an example:
Breathing in, I calm my body.
Breathing out, I smile.
Dwelling in the present moment
I know this is a wonderful moment.
Thay is very big on smiling, focusing on breath, and being aware of suffering.
It is the last one that has had the most impact on me.
This is the thing I turn away from consistently. I ignore it and focus on other things. But it is always there and by the time I finished the book, I knew it was the thing I've been missing for a very long time.
I am now practicing my oneness with suffering--my own and others. I now can see more clearly how much impact this has on me, and how healing it can be. It brings peace.
Thay mentions that in every Buddhist monastery they have an 8 line poem posted. It ends with the words "Don't waste your life." I cannot waste this opportunity for growth.
*
Sunday morning I read Mary Oliver's essay on Poe, entitled "The Bright Eyes of Eleanora:
Poe's Dream of Recapturing the Impossible."
My first thought with the word "impossible" is that it is possible to ignore the suffering, but not possible to escape it. On page 91, Mary expresses this perfectly in relation to Poe:
We do not think of it every day, but we will never forget it: the beloved shall grow old, or ill, and be taken away finally. No matter how ferociously we fight, how tenderly we love, how bitterly we argue, how persuasively we berate the universe, how cunningly we hide, this is what shall happen. In the wide circles of timelessness, everything material and temporal will fail, including the manifestation of the beloved. In this universe we are given two gifts: the ability to love, and the ability to ask questions. Which are, at the same time, the fires that warm us and scorch us. This is Poe's real story. As it is ours. And this is why we honor him, why we are fascinated far past the simple narratives.
He writes about our own inescapable destiny.
Wow.
If that doesn't make you cry, nothing will!
*
This connected back to reading Being Peace. The suffering is around us. Impermanence is the law.
We share an inescapable destiny. We can be in the moment. Smile. Breathe. Love.
We can be One.
And this was the takeaway -- one with everything.
One with the minor irritations.
One with nature.
One with fear.
One with joy.
One with worry.
One with the Sacred.
I am nature and nature is me.
I am joy and joy is me.
I am the universe and the universe is me.
No matter what comes up, I apply this non-duality.
I am cleaning the pan. The pan is cleaning me.
I am listening to music. The music is listening to me.
I am my orchid. The orchid is me.
I have to record this today so I may refer right back to it at any time.
*
Mary ends her essay on Poe saying his words and valor are all he had. She ends by referring to a character in one of his stories, rushing forward and battering hopelessly against incomprehensibly,
with frail fists, with "the wild courage of despair."
I feel for Poe and his characters.
But I don't want that to be me.
I've had enough of that already.
So I will live these words from Thay instead:
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