Showing posts from 2017

Go directly to the Heart

We are talking about inner freedom. The ability to see things as they are. To not hold on to things that are bound to perish, and fall away
(good things, bad things)
but to be spacious enough to  accept and contain this - mortal predicament.
Suffering can be turned to compassion tightness can become mystery and I, no more a living being merely but a space where anguish, fear, grief and anger can be  related to as what they are: waves in the ocean of body. 
What brings you joy?
To trust life, to delve into mystery knowing that life works itself out. That's why traveling has always been exciting: a most direct exercise in creation mechanics. 
But what of the one who wishes to grow roots? To find a community, allow the material aspect of reality to grind its wheels? 
(house, kids, family)
 It is the same principle, only the stakes are higher: more attachment, more loss, greater sorrow. 
The family yogi, the bourgeois yogi, they have been criticised for staying safe, wrapped up in th…

The Buddha is my Mother (and my Mother is I)

And what is this thing that we so much want to hold onto after all? The indescribable fear that robs each moment of its sense of adventure, mistaking quicksand under our feet for solid land?
Mother, is it that we didn't fall in love at first sight? God knows we tried.
Up until those tortured, hope-forsaken final days, amid the anger, the tenderness, the terror, the bitter and the human, God knows we tried. Caving in perhaps, broken certainly; we gave it our best shot. 
It wasn't easy when you were alive, it's not easy without you. Existence required a justification from me in both cases, despite your best intentions. Once in a while I catch that feeling of being eight again, running around our neighborhood with Savvas, the afternoon stretching out before me in lifetimes. There is nowhere else to be but here, by the side of the road, smelling the lemon blossoms reaching out to me from kiria Sofia's garden. I am caught by surprise by that fragrant sense of freedom. It w…

Losing my mother, finding my Mother

Some of us are born into exile. In the beginning, life is this fascinating kaleidoscope of colors, sounds and tastes, and at the same time an unbearable and terrifying assault on our senses. We feel too much, think too much, sense too much, perceive too much. As babies we sleep a lot. They say we are good babies, easy babies. We really just need healing time for the growing brain. 
We live out a push-pull relationship with life. On one hand: an attraction to love, a deep longing for connection with Life, an innate curiosity to understand its different parts. An intense desire to belong. On the other hand: threatening energies, incessant soul-wounding, inexplicable fear. A progressive loss of innocence with every foray into the outer world. The inner world is a dark tangled forest we run to, equally scary, equally mysterious but subtler, quieter, seemingly safer. 
We watch the adults around us with no concept of the past, no way of understanding they are the product of their own lives…

Joachim The Tree

During a walk the other day I came upon a tree whose name was Joachim. He was an oak, the kind one meets around here in the South, with the broad crown of luxuriously spread thick branches draped in Spanish moss and fern. Occasionally in urban areas Spanish moss is replaced by Mardi Gras beads, hanging down from the lower branches and glimmering in the sun. Other times they have black and white signs with threatening red letters nailed to the trunk: PRIVATE PROPERTY. Joachim bore one of these signs and though I would have ordinarily taken this as a sign to keep moving, the tree was so tall and beautiful that I stopped to consider him and allowed myself to enter a little reverie in his shade.
Looking at the sign brought a feeling of sadness tinged with anger. What is our relationship with the living world, truly? If the sign indicates that responsibility is being claimed for the tree’s wellbeing and protection then yes, that is a worthy statement. Did the owner assist the tree by mulc…

The Heart

At last. The heart has awoken.With a flutter, with the iridescent buzzing of light-dancing starsprinkles, the heart like a sleeping giant has started to blossom. In my heart, a portal has opened to the heart of the world. 
Come, cedar waxwings, come eat of the berries on our trees, so that the strawberry farmer relaxes his frown. Come, our back yard beckons you over with its sunny patches and its water puddles and its outstretched limbs, bending with berries to stain your feathers red. Come, the whoosh of your flock washes over my body like a godly caress. 
How people have twisted truth into a thing of power and possessiveness, how humanity is spiraling in an insanity of separation and stickyness, greed and jealousy, hiding even in the smallest nooks disguising itself as love. It's not true! None of it is true. We hurt each other, kill each other, poison each other's hearts and souls. If one were to let one's heart open completely, how could one bear it all? 
I dare not d…