Another year older...and so grateful

A few years ago I thought that I had gone through some tough times and that life would spare me at least for awhile.  But now I know there is no sparing -- there are, in the course of every year, beautiful, joyous times AND really bad, difficult times.

This year was no exception.

The beautiful joyous times were simple days of spending time with my daughter, Zoe, with friends, traveling around the country and a trip to Dublin, all for work.  Riding my bike along the Hudson in the summer and taking long walks in Central Park in every season. 

There was a visit to Emily's house in the country -- bittersweet because of her absence, but still pleasurable.

My play performed at the Beckett Theater this year, with friends from all areas of my life, old friends, new friends, everyone showing up to see it and lend support.  And a cast and crew of the most wonderful people and the challenges that go along with every creative project.

There was the grief of losing my best friend, Lucy, my beloved beagle, who was with me for 13 years and who died at 17 years of age.  I miss her daily and am deeply grateful for having had her for all those years.  She was truly a faithful companion.

I'm grateful that my ex husband and I were able to forgive each other and start up a new... friendship.  I would not have imagined this a few years ago, but forgiveness is a powerful tool -- and cancer seems to completely change the landscape.  He really showed up for a harrowing summer and survived and we are all so grateful. 

2013 ends quietly... I feel that life has forced so many of us to seek comfort in being quiet, by going within. 

One of my favorite pieces of advice I heard recently came from the playwright Tracy Letts: spend at least 30 minutes a day staring at the wall, or looking out the window.  I don't have much of a view, but I think I will start at my wall and give thanks for this past year and gratitude for the coming one.  Just being alive is reason enough to be celebrate. 

Emily Squires' pond in Lake Ariel, Pa.  August 2013.

Sitting with it

Lately, it seems as if I have heard of a number of friends and acquaintances who are dealing with some difficult situations.  I think that the economy and the struggles that so many people are having financially, is often at the root of it, but it also goes much deeper.  It is a struggle with aging parents, illness, young people searching for jobs, opportunities.  A very difficult election.  

I am at another crossroads and I'm not sure where it is leading, but if I've learned one thing in the past few years of studying Buddhism and spirituality it is to stay in this very moment.  It's one of the hardest lessons, since we human beings are always looking towards the future and worrying about what is coming, rather than appreciating and staying in the present. 

I went to help out a friend this morning who is about to give birth and is in a difficult situation with her new husband.  I can only imagine how hard it is for her to stay in this moment, when in six weeks she will be giving birth to her baby and life will get even more challenging.

One of the greatest gifts we can give each other is to show up - so that was what I did.  I listened and helped her unpack and just sat with her.  And now I am sitting with my own anxieties, as I have many days over the last few years.

I love what I have been learning lately from August Gold, a spiritual teacher.  She says:  "Life is a conversation.  We need to stop asking 'why is this happening to me' and start asking 'why is this happening for me?'" 

In reading about the Kaballah it says:  "This challenge is an indication that there is a great amount of Light to be revealed here!  I may not understand how yet, but I can make the effort to see why this opportunity has been given to me.  I can choose, instead of reacting or worry, to continue the development of my soul.  I can choose to not allow negativity in, and as I do this more and more, I will grow my certainty in the Light.

Negativity has power over us only when we allow it to.

So my choice now is to put on my shoes and go for a walk and get out of my head and my apartment.  And stay in this very moment, which is a rainy autumn afternoon, and be grateful for all the blessings in my life.  Starting with the fact that my daughter lives in Brooklyn and last year on this day I was visiting her in San Francisco. 

Enough sitting, it's time to move my feet. 

Three years

One year ago, I signed my divorce papers and it was the beginning of a new life and an entirely new chapter.


In November of 2011 I found dance.  I'd started dancing (as I wrote here) in a couple of flash mobs, but then I decided to sign up for dance classes and ever since then my life has changed in many profound ways.  First of all I found something really joyous that I love to do.  I've met many people who love it too and many really great men.  Men to dance with - not necessarily the love of my life, but men I really enjoy.

My morning practice of reading, writing and meditating has changed a bit.  I've been chanting in the morning, which is very peaceful.

In August, my daughter Zoe moved back to New York after three years of living in San Francisco.

She arrived the first week in August, which is when my first piece appeared on the Huffington Post.


I've now had five pieces published and yesterday Zoe and I did a Huff Post Live on adult children moving home with their parents.  She did find a great apartment with a roommate and they are happily living in their own place now.

http://live.huffingtonpost.com/r/archive

If you're new to this blog and you or anyone you know anyone who's going through a difficult time, go back three years to April 2009 and start reading.  There is a great deal of information about how to get through loss and grief a day at a time. 

And the present feels very exciting!  So stay tuned.  I never expected any of this, so it will be interesting to see what unfolds next.  If you've had any interesting surprises lately, I'd love to hear about them. 

Stillness/silence

It occurred to me just now, after reading an Op-ed in the Times today about stillness, that this blog began as an exploration into meditation and I haven't written much about that in a long time.

Life got in the way and it became more about grief and the Friends In Deed mantra: "the only way out is through." Well, one of their mantras.  Another one is: "the quality of our lives is not determined by the circumstances."

I am still meditating although lately it's been pretty difficult and I'm not sure why.  My mind seems to be wandering more and thoughts keep intruding.  I guess that's always been true, but maybe because this year so much more has happened, I've been much busier with work and writing, it feels harder to just be quiet.  I am happy to report that this morning I went for a long walk by myself along the Hudson River and spent time just enjoying the river and the quiet.  For me now, stillness is not just about sitting in the morning in meditation, it's about taking the time during the day, as often as I can, to just be quiet and not talking on my phone or checking emails.  

I like to try to focus on my breath and allow myself the luxury of sitting in silence.  It is a gift really, to take that time and appreciate how quiet it can be, even in the heart of New York City.

Life today

Last night, I was watching "The Daily Show" and clips from the Republican debate.  What can you say about these debates other than you wish these people were running for office in another country?  Some country whose name you can't pronounce, preferably on another planet.  

I've been to Occupy Wall Street a few times, marched, I'm glad that they have have managed to change the conversation from what it was a few months ago (the debt ceiling) to jobs and the issue of money and inequality, but it's hard not to feel incredibly hopeless about how we are going to fix the mess we're in.

I'd like to make this blog funnier.  I'm grateful that people like Jon Stewart, Bill Maher and Steven Colbert can find humor in the political scene.  I am still reeling from seeing "Miss Representation" - the documentary about women in our culture, the way we are portrayed, the lack of power we have even though we are 51% of the population.  I'd love to be able to laugh more, which brings me to news about my play, it is moving along.  As Robert at Friends In Deed says, "...totally committed, completely unattached."  I hope SE gets to have a production and at this point, it's out of my hands.  I'm so grateful for all the people who are working so hard and having meetings to get it up.

We need to laugh.  We need to remember what's important and sit quietly with all the feelings.  I always try to fight the sadness rather than embrace it.  I'm sad that so many people all over the world are struggling.

Pema Chodron says in our meditation practices we can "breathe in suffering and breathe out God."  So that's what I try to do every morning in my imperfect practice.  I don't know if that helps anyone other than me, but it's good to remember.

When meditation is all you can do

1. You're stressed out.
2. It's been a long day.
3. You would like to just buy a one-way ticket to somewhere like Bali and never return.
4. It's raining.
5. You have bug bites.
6. You want to stuff yourself with ice cream, but you know you can't.
7. You want to go shopping somewhere, but you know you can't.
8. You'd like to pick up someone, but you know...
9. You're thinking about a dance break, but it requires too much energy.
10. You're feeling lonely.
11. You wonder about the meaning of life?
12. You wonder why you're still wondering when you're so well beyond the halfway point of your life and shouldn't you know by now?
13. You're not in acceptance about what is.
14. Or what isn't.
15. I guess breathing is the way to go.  Sit and breathe.  
16. You're thinking you could probably come up with at least another 16 things, but why?
17. 20 seems like a good cut-off.
18. Uh-oh you may have to stop at 18.
19. You could call someone, but you can't think of who?
20. This living one day at a time sucks.  You know? 
21. The meaning of life is enjoying the passage of time.  There ain't nothing to it, any fool can do it. Really?
22. I'm on a roll.
23. I miss my daughter.
24. I'm onto the "I's" now, and that's not good.
25. My bug bites itch. Did I say that?

POST SCRIPT:  Rather than meditate, I decided to put on my Ipod and sing and dance, while cleaning out a couple of drawers.  It worked!  LSD, laugh, sing and dance, everyday! (Okay, I didn't quite laugh, but I did sing and dance.)  And I feel MUCH better.  

Daily meditation saves lives!

I started this blog a few years ago to write about my journey in meditation.  Life changed course along the way, if you've followed the blog you'll know that there were a few other matters, like a divorce, the death of my mother, my daughter moving far away, and a few other major life changing events that I've had to deal with.

But I want to share that through all of it, I have continued with my (imperfect) meditation practice.  And I think it saved my life. (At least that's what Deepak Chopra tweeted about this morning.) 

There's something so peaceful about sitting for 30 and sometimes 60 minutes every morning, in silence.  It's one of my favorite times of day.  I try to also do walking meditations sometimes, or even biking meditations.  I think that any time you're alone with your thoughts and you try to focus on your breath and quiet the thoughts, is a meditation.  

Even 5 minutes, a couple of times a day, can be a great way to come back to the moment and rein in all the crazy ideas that constantly go through our heads.  That's what Pema Chodron promised when I started this practice and that's what I've received.

The past week has been a challenge.  But right now, after a good hour of breathing and sitting, I feel ready to take on the day.  And I think it's going to be a good one!  I really do. 

And I pray that everyone in Washington, President Obama and the entire Congress, start meditating, so we can get this budget crisis under control. 

Meditation mess

My meditation practice is terribly out of control.  I try, in the early morning, to meditate for at least fifteen or twenty minutes and I was successful at that for a long time.

But now, for some reason, I can't stop the chatter in my brain and I keep wanting to go on-line and look at the NY Times, or waste time on Facebook, or check email, or look at my astrological chart, or see what kind of camera Amazon is having a discount on, or whatever.

So, I am taking a vow, that right after I walk the dogs this morning, I'm going to come back and shut everything off (I may quickly check the camera deals first) and then sit and breathe and allow myself that time.  I don't know why I resist it, I always feel better and it's a lot easier than running three miles or taking a yoga class.  Five minutes can be enough - it's just about taking that time and allowing myself the luxury of being in the moment without cluttering my mind with nonsense.  Or allowing the nonsense to pass through without adding to it.

A transformative moment

Last night I went out to dinner with the friend I am moving in with in a few weeks, Abigail. She is also a writer and perhaps the nicest person in the entire world. She brought over some things for the stoop sale my friends Anita and Megan and I are having today. We're selling books, household things, clothing, all the stuff I want to get rid of so my move is easier. Although it is sad to let go of my books, I'll be living around the block from a public library and I will be fine.

Abigail and I went for sushi and had fun talking about relationships (she and her husband split up over fifteen years ago) and men and life and sex and work. We have known each other since our kids were four years-old and they are now twenty-one. The four of us went on a vacation to the Yukatan in Mexico when we barely knew each other and had a fantastic time, but that's a story for another day.

When I came home after dinner, I continued going through my belongings, tossing out what I don't need, reading old emails, looking at photos and then I went through my jewelry to decide what I wanted to sell. A friend called while I was sorting the jewelry, so I was distracted and probably less emotional about deciding what to sell.

As I was looking at old papers, I found an article about Daniel Gilbert, the Harvard professor who wrote "Stumbling on Happiness." I cut out the article over a year ago (April 22, 2008.)

In the article, Gilbert says that at one point in his life he went through so many crises at once, his mentor passed away, his mother died, his marriage ended and his son had serious problems in school - but what he found that: "the truth is, bad things don't affect us as profoundly as we expect them to. That's true of good things too."

"People have an inability to predict what will make them happy - or unhappy."

Gilbert says that if you "take a scale from 0 - 100, people, generally report their happiness at 75. We keep trying to get to 100. Sometimes, we get there. But we don't stay long."

"We certainly fear the things that get us to 10 or 20 - the death of a loved one, the end of a relationship, a serious challenge to our health. But when those things happen, most of us will return to our emotional baselines more quickly than we'd predict. Humans are wildly resilient."

"Wildly resilient." I love that.

He says that most of us are great rationalizers. "We expect to feel devastated if our spouse leaves or if we get passed over for a big promotion at work.

But when things like that do happen, it's soon, 'She was never right for me' or 'I actually need more free time for my family.' People have remarkable talent for finding ways to soften the impact of negative events. Thus they mistakenly expect such blows to be much more devastating than they turn out to be."

And then he goes on to say, "We know that the best predictor of human happiness is human relationships and the amount of time that people spend with family and friends.

We know that it's significantly more important than money and somewhat more important than health. That's what the data shows. The interesting thing is that people will sacrifice social relationships to get other things that won't make them as happy - money. That's what I mean when I say people should do 'wise shopping' for happiness."

"Another thing we know from studies is that people tend to take more pleasure from experiences than in things. So if you have 'x' amount of dollars to spend on a vacation or a good meal or movies, it will get you more happiness than a durable good or object. One reason is that experiences tend to be shared with other people and objects generally aren't."

"You'll always have Paris" is so true. I certainly feel it as I discard so many things that I thought would bring me happiness, a necklace, a book, a coat - and they never did.

Reading the article made me realize, that as difficult a period as this has been (mother died, marriage ending, daughter moved away from home, have to move, need a job) - it's also been an amazingly transformative experience too. I have spent more time with friends and in social situations than I have in years and I have found that my friends have really shown up for me. I'm so filled with gratitude and, although I do at times feel grief and sadness, I also feel happy. My sister and I even had a great talk the other day and that felt really good.

So last night, the song "You Send Me" popped into my head. I played it and danced around the loft to Aretha Franklin. As I danced, I was overwhelmed with a feeling of well being and joy.


I guess last night I hit 100 and today I'll be back at 75.

The Sky and the Sun

I woke up again this morning very early, around 5 am, and couldn't get back to sleep. I seem to be sleeping about six hours a night and waking up early and dragging through a good part of the day. And then I have started slipping caffeine into my diet again and I'm not so happy about that.

Meditation also seems to be more of a struggle for me lately and I realize that when I'm not at least trying to meditate every day, I feel worse, sadder.

There's not much tougher than feeling that you've failed at something and right now I'm feeling a lot like a failure as a mother and in other parts of my life. Intellectually, I know I've done my best and beating myself up isn't going to help anyone. It's how I'm feeling and eventually it will pass. I'm also having a rough time with my husband and our living situation. I don't have a room of my own anymore and it's driving me a little crazy. It's my fault, for not being able to say what I needed. I need a room of my own, it doesn't have to be much, but I need a place to be by myself.

So because I was so down, I thought I'd better give meditation a shot this morning and also do some reading. I picked up Pema Chodron's book "When Things Fall Apart" - and once again found exactly what I needed to read. This chapter is called "The Trick of Choicelessness" and it's about "Samaya" which means "not holding anything back, not preparing our escape route, not looking for alternatives, not thinking there is ample time to do things later." It's about "total commitment to sanity, total commitment to our experience, an unconditional relationship with reality."

"...through years and years of gentle training and honest, intelligent inquiry, we begin to trust our basic wisdom mind. We find that we have an essential wisdom, an essential good heart, that is stronger and more fundamental than our unkindness and aggression."

"It's like finding that the sky and the sun are always there and that it's the storms and the clouds that come and go. Somehow, feeling that we are ready to have no exit just occurs by itself."

I started feeling more able to sit with the place that I am at and continued reading.

"At first, meditation instruction is all we have to keep us from dissociating from our body, speech and mind. Year after year, we just keep practicing coming back to our own experience of being in the present moment."

"We are thoroughly conditioned so that the minute the seat gets hot, or we even think it's going to get hot, we jump off. The trick is to sit on the hot seat and have a commitment to our experience of hot-seatness. With or without a formal samaya (relationship) to a teacher, this remains the main point."

So I guess that for today, I wanted to be able to stay with my feelings and be okay with them. And not have to distract myself with eating, or shopping, or watching TV, or getting angry, or whatever would take me away from the feelings. And that is hard. It really is.

Living With the Pain

I was just meditating and some sad feelings came flooding over me. I don't think that's supposed to happen in meditation, but maybe it is.

I've been here before. I know it doesn't last, but when you're in it, it's not fun and it definitely makes me miss the ability to eat a giant cupcake or to go shopping without being overwhelmed with guilt. Those two addictions are pretty much off the table, although I do slip up now and then. The other day I bought myself a watch for a hundred dollars, simply because it was reduced from $380 and I thought, "Wow, what a deal. Can't pass that one up."

So - back to the blues. My beloved dog, Lucy, is sick again. She's 12 1/2. We got her from the ASPCA when she was 4 and although it wasn't love at first sight (she was cowering in her cage), as soon as she came out she climbed in our laps and started licking us, then we knew she was our dog. She is simply a kind, sweet, adoring, loving, neurotic god (oh, I actually wrote that) DOG, who has been with us through more ups and downs than the Cyclone at Coney Island. I remember leaving her in our loft on 9/11 to run up to Zoe's school to pick Zoe and her friend Willa up, wondering if we'd ever see Lucy again. (We weren't sure what was happening at that point.) She's been there for me while I've been the primary caregiver for my mother for the last 7 years. She's been there when we all took turns being seriously depressed. She's moved with us three times in the past five years. She's tolerated sharing us with Lola, who has a bit more of an outgoing personality than Lucy.

The last time Lucy had surgery, this past summer, I was reading a brochure in the vet's office about dealing with the death of a pet. I will try to bring home a copy today if we're at the vet's office again. At the time, Steve's father was dying and I was reading this brochure and thinking that as much as we love humans, and we obviously do - our animals are with us every day of our lives, through all kinds of struggles, they're often the one constant in our lives and they love us unconditionally (unlike any human I know.)


UPDATE: Just came home after two hours at the vet. Lucy's got a pretty bad urinary tract infection and another hematoma in her ear. She has blood in her urine and was throwing up this morning, but hopefully with the antibiotics she will be feeling better in just a few days. I brought home the brochure about losing a pet, the one that really got to me that time I read it in the vet's office. Here is the quote: "For some, losing a pet can be a truly devastating experience. The animal was an important family member who provided unconditional comfort and support over many phases and changes in a person's life. As you begin to reflect on what has happened since your companion came into your life, a certain chapter in your life closes. As animals commonly live for 15 to 20 years, these life chapters often include major transitions such as becoming an adult, moving homes, changing jobs, marriage, children, relationship endings, etc. Obviously then, may memories are associated with a pet, all of which come to the surface when the pet dies."

That really got to me.

So aside from feeling sad about my dogs' eventual deaths (Lola's only 6), my concerns for my daughter, and money issues, and worry about my family and my friends' health (Steve has to have eye surgery soon) and I always worry about my own health, and let's not even get into the election...and the environment and the war and the economy and and and...

...wondering how I got here in my life, to the place that I am at, which doesn't feel so good right now. I just don't quite understand it.

I think that one answer may be yoga. I think I have to continue with my meditation and find a good yoga class because at other times in my life yoga has helped me. I also know that this feeling will pass and that life is really about the ups and downs and all the challenges. And that all the answers are inside of me (according to that book I recommended a few weeks ago) - even if I don't really have a clue about how to find them.

I think I'll do a few yoga postures and start with Downward Facing Dog, in Lucy's honor. And if any answers come, I'll let you know.

Mindfulness in Nature

It's not exactly difficult to meditate for ten or fifteen minutes when you're surrounded by beautiful trees, blue skies, mountains, and you're breathing in clean air. It feels like quite a high actually, but years ago, being here was hardly easy.

We would arrive after a long flight and a long drive, and a stop at the grocery store in Willets, and then we'd have to open up the cabin, turn on the water (sometimes there wasn't much of it), set up the beds, take down the sheets and towels from the attic, and all of this was with Zoe. The first time we came she was two months old and we came almost every summer as she grew up.

Relaxing - was never something I was all that good at. I would always get bored and anxious and want to leave after a few days. There was no electricity, no phones, no TV, no indoor showers, it was basically about one step up from camping, which I really could never handle. Now we have cell service, some electricity, L&L have a large screen TV, all of that makes it easier to stay here. I like hiking and so I always do a little of that, and it's hard not to appreciate nature. Over the years we had many fun times here, barbecues, singing camp songs late at night, swimming in the Eel River. I will put some photos up when I get back. It truly is gorgeous. But for most of the past twenty years - after one week - I was ready to get back to NYC and eagerly packed up the sheets and the towels, swept and closed up the cabin and couldn't wait to go home.

Somehow, now my meditation practice has made it much easier to be in the moment. I'm reading a wonderful book called "Wherever You Go There You Are" by Jon Kabat-Zinn. Here are a few good quotes: "It is a commonly held view that meditation is a way to shut off the pressures of the world or of your own mind, but this is not an accurate impression. Meditation is neither shutting things out nor off. It is seeing things clearly, and deliberately positioning yourself differently in relationship to them."

"One way to envision how mindfulness works is to think of your mind as the surface of a lake or of the ocean. There are always waves on the water. Sometimes they are big, sometimes they are small, and sometimes they are almost imperceptible. The water's waves are churned up by winds, which come and go and vary in direction and intensity, just as do the winds of stress and change in our lives, which stir up waves in our minds."

"It is possible through meditation to find shelter from much of the wind that agitates the mind. Over time, a good deal of the turbulence may die down from lack of continuous feeding. But ultimately the winds of life and of the mind will blow, do what we may. Meditation is about knowing something about this and how to work with it."

"The spirit of mindfulness practice was nicely captured in a poster of a seventy-ish yogi, Swami Satchitananda, in full white beard and flowing robes atop a surfboard riding the waves off a Hawaiian beach. The caption read: "You can't stop the waves, but you can learn to surf."

So here I am, about thirty miles inland from the Pacific Ocean, surfing.

Boredom Is Good!

Today in the Science Times, one of my favorite sections of the New York Times, is an article entitled "You're Checked Out, but Your Brain is Tuned In." The article states that "it's time that boredom be recognized as a legitimate human emotion that can be central to learning and creativity." (The quote is from The Cambridge Journal of Education.)

This is good news for me. For years I was the kind of person who was always doing something. Working, exercising, reading, writing, going constantly. I loved when Zoe was little and I could spend hours in the park talking to other parents and babysitters. I really enjoyed the feeling of community, but then I would have to race home and work on something. I even enjoyed doing the laundry because it gave me a feeling of accomplishment and that was always the goal. The only time I watched TV was when I was too exhausted to do anything else and then I generally passed out on the couch in the middle of "Law and Order."

Sometime in the past couple of years though, that attitude has shifted for me. Maybe it was when I was dealing with some serious family problems, my mother was very ill, Zoe was having issues at school, and I started walking a lot to help me deal with the stress. I always went to the gym, but while I was there I usually talked to friends or listened to music, so I was always distracted. But somehow walking across the Brooklyn Bridge, or walking through Central Park, I came to really enjoy having no distractions. Essentially walking with my own thoughts, or trying not to think, just being.

I have friends who have always been good at this. As the article states: "It's the difference between the sort of person who can look at a a pool of mud and find something interesting, and someone who has a hard time getting absorbed in anything." Susie (if you're reading this) - you are the pool of mud person and I really admire that about you. I can almost always get absorbed, but I understand that for many people, there's a constant search for distraction.

I do find that I often get my most creative ideas when I just let my mind wander. And meditation is another way of clearing my mind, which is why I enjoy it.

Yesterday I was talking to a friend about Buddhism and the idea that when you are feeling really bad, really suffering, Buddhism says you should allow yourself to sit with the pain. And therapy has taught me that too, that rather than fighting it, you should allow yourself to wallow (well, maybe not wallow, maybe just BE in it.) And then my friend and I agreed that when you do that, sit with it, it really stinks. It's really misery to be so down. But then eventually it does pass. And you find that you haven't gained ten pounds in one weekend, or spent too much money, or drank too much, or slept with someone you never want to see again. (Although it's been awhile since I did that.)

Anyway, it's possible that I've managed to bore you to death with this post and if I have, I am quite pleased.

One more thing...I got the DVD of our monologue performance night and I have to say that I wasn't miserable about it, it was pretty good. Except that next time I perform, I will have done thousands of biceps curls so my arms look tighter, I will have lost ten pounds and will be wearing my contact lenses. The best part of seeing it though, is being able to study and learn from it.

Thank you Jake!

Breathing

Monday morning. It's a gorgeous summer day. I walked the dogs in the park, came back, made myself a cup of white tea (it only has a little caffeine), read a chapter of "When Things Fall Apart" which was called "Servants of Peace." Regarding meditation it said:

"When we sit down to meditate, we can connect with something unconditional - a state of mind, a basic environment that does not grasp or reject anything. Meditation is probably the only activity that doesn't add anything to the picture. Everything is allowed to come and go without further embellishment."

I guess that's if you do it right. This morning, I had a hard time not embellishing. Why is sitting and connecting with the breath so hard? I like the stillness, but this morning I kept thinking about...writing...about what I want to say...regarding some of the events that happened this weekend and have shaped my thoughts.

On Saturday I heard from three different men. They were all feeling some degree of pain about their lives. One is a dear friend I've known for twenty-five years. We'll call him Jim. He has a job that he isn't enjoying and he's extremely talented, but he's not using most of his talents for this work. He would also like to make more money. He loves his family and knows how blessed he is to have them. His wife and child adore him.

Another friend, (we'll call him Pete) has had a very abundant business for the last few years, but this year it's been much more of a struggle. He enjoys the work and has ideas about how to enrich his services, but he's very nervous about not taking more actions to increase business as he takes the time to study. His wife is even more nervous and she's angry at him. She's been freelancing and taking care of their kids, but will probably have to get a full-time job to add to their income. He spends a great deal of time with his children and is a good father. Right now their relationship is tense and they are both pretty miserable.

The third man I heard from is someone I met recently. Ed. Ed is single, his business has also sharply declined and he is freaking out. He doesn't know what to do and he's having a hard time coping with the anxiety.

So all of this started to get to me as I thought about the culture we live in and how stressed out we all are. And about what is valued and how hard it is to manage everything; work, kids, parents, our health, money...and most of us live in relative affluence compared to the rest of the world.

One of the headlines in today's NY Times is that a second wave of people defaulting on their mortgages is coming and it could be even larger than the first wave. Life is tough for many people right now.

I don't have any answers to these problems. I am dealing with my own struggle. But I am grateful that today is an absolutely beautiful day with bright sunshine and blue skies.

And maybe later today I can try meditating again. With no embellishments.

Ruminator vs. Meditator

I was reading an article somewhere, I think it was "O" magazine, and the author mentioned that she was a ruminator. I have been a ruminator all of my life... imagining everything that could go wrong, obsessing about the past, anxious about the future, writing scenes in my mind about some encounter or event.

I've also been a bit of a risk taker, so all that ruminating isn't about what to have for breakfast. But ultimately, I've come to realize that it was silly and useless to think that much.

For example, I would worry about winter, because I don't love it. Cold weather is tough for me. And then I would worry about March. I would make lists at the end of February about what I was worrying about in the coming month. Spring break, which occasionally meant getting on an airplane. Zoe's birthday, March 17th (what kind of party? present? theme? I stink at kid's birthday parties.) Mondays were always cause for concern. And vacations. And certain phone calls. And confrontations. And on and on the list goes.

I'm quite sure that even in the womb I was busy..."Oh, who's she yelling at now? Is she smoking? Oh, goodie, here comes the caffeine!"

Then recently, just since this past February in fact, I started a meditation practice. And from that "practice" one interesting result seems to be that I spend less time ruminating (and worrying) and more time breathing and staying in the moment. I have slips, many, in fact. But overall, if I take the time to be still and pay attention to the breath, sometimes more than once a day, I find that I am...well, happier.

Now some people are naturally like this, relaxed about life, and probably don't ever need to meditate. I don't know too many, but I'm sure they exist. Given how much there is to worry about in these times, it's almost impossible not to. Four more years of Republicans in power? HELP! Disease. Global warming. Wars. The economy. Hunger. Tainted fruits and vegetables. Etc. etc. etc. STOP!

So all of that brings me back to the breath, to being in the moment, to being grateful for right now. For the quiet. "Monkey mind" is the term that Buddhists use to describe that constant ruminator that lives inside us.

Shhhhhhhhhh.......

Breathe.

Oy Vey

Well, after almost eight years of the Bush/Cheney presidency we are so screwed. How do I count the ways? You know them, I don't have to remind you. So screwed. Right now we're in the economic mess and it is scary. I know that the Federal Reserve has billions of dollars, but how far can that go? And what happens when it's all gone? Anyway, you didn't come here to read my analysis of the economy, which is good because as I recall I got a C in economics.

Steve is leaving tonight for two weeks in Spain, just as the euro hit an all-time high against the dollar. Zoe and I will be on our own, just like we used to be when Steve was on the road all the time. We called ourselves the dynamic duo and we enjoyed our time together. That was before she hit puberty.

ME: Want to go to a movie?
ZOE: I'm sleeping.
ME: It's four o'clock in the afternoon
ZOE: I was up all night.

But Mamma Mia is opening this weekend and we have to go. We saw the play about a month and a half after 9/11 and it was such a relief to laugh and listen to music and be in a theater again. I do remember that when we came back after the intermission the orchestra hit such a loud booming note that the entire audience jumped a foot out of their seats in fear. It was a good release though and the evening reminded us that we could still have a good time at the theater.

This morning I had such a wonderful meditation. I don't know why sometimes it just feels so peaceful and easy. Maybe because it's a really beautiful summer day and I'm sitting near a window and feeling the breeze. I think that most days what I love about meditation is that it's my quiet time and stress seems to fall away...but sometimes I feel a sense of euphoria, which is what I felt today. And then I read the NY Times.

Maybe I should start a day count until Inauguration Day?

Cherries and Meditation

Right now I have two obsessions. One is seasonal - cherries - I can't seem to get enough of them. I've already had about 10 so far this morning and I can't wait to eat more.

The other obsession is meditation. (I love blogging too, by the way, this may be my next obsession.) I started meditating every day last February and I began with around ten minutes and now I'm up to twenty minutes. I could never understand the purpose of meditation, to tell you the truth. It seemed to me that sitting in one place without doing something, made no sense. Years ago I ran three miles every day, went to the gym at least four times a week for years. Now I walk all over city, I love hiking, riding my bike. Burning calories, that I understood. But just sitting was really a crazy idea to me. And then once I heard someone say, "Sitting in one place and paying attention to my breath is the most important part of my day."

I thought he was really crazy. But that idea stayed with me.

Years ago, when I was dealing with a rather full plate...my mother was in a hospice, my sister was hit by a car, my daughter wasn't too happy, my husband was depressed about his lack of work, I was a very dark place. A friend of mine (Jacqui - thank God for Jacqui) suggested that I read a book called "The Wisdom of No Escape and the Path of Loving-Kindness" by Pema Chodron.

I was feeling hopeless and blaming myself for everyone else's misery. I was feeling angry and wanting to change everything about myself, but in the first chapter she says, "loving-kindness - maitri - toward ourselves doesn't mean getting rid of anything. Maitri means that we can still be crazy after all these years." I liked that.

And "The idea isn't to get rid of ego but actually to begin to take an interest in ourselves, to investigate and be inquisitive about ourselves."

"Precision is being able to see very clearly, not being afraid to see what is really there, just as a scientist is not afraid to look into the microscope."

So that was a good beginning for me to start reading more about Buddhism and then it took a long time to start meditating. It doesn't burn any calories though.