Saturday, January 2, 2016

Ctrl+Alt+Del

2015 IMCW New Years Retreat                                                                               Pearlstone Retreat Center - Reisterstown, MD
     
And just like that, a new year is underway.  2015 ended and 2016 began with five days of stillness and silence on a residential meditation retreat...my favorite place to be.

I am a firm believer that the first action that should be taken to fix something that is broken or underperforming is to turn it off and unplug it, wait a few minutes, and turn it back on.

Ctrl+Alt+Del…the most useful keyboard shortcut ever...

The Sacred Pause...

This seems to be what happens for me when I take the time to step away from my busy life and dedicate time to intentionally turning inward for an extended period of time.  I am always surprised at how, when things get quiet, my brain spirals out into its conditioned patterns in a desperate effort to somehow restore the noise…the distraction…like an overtired child that keeps chattering and fidgeting and thinking up things to do, say, and need in order to avoid an approaching bedtime.  But, when the circuit finally breaks, the clarity with which I can notice each and every moment is nothing short of brilliant.  In this space, even the most fragile, fractured pieces of me can be safely exposed into a light of tenderness and compassion and my heart is unwavering in its courage to welcome and hold them.  The love I find in this place is real and true and pure.  And then, of course, I have to go to the airport...

I can’t say that I have ever come home completely enlightened.  But I have come home every time with more awareness than I left with.  I don’t have a blank slate, but I have a new perspective on the things that are working in my life and the things that are not.  This has particularly been true with this retreat with all of the implications and anticipation of the new year ahead.

In 2015, there was a lot that didn’t work.  The grief brought on by my mother’s passing is ongoing, has been so complicated, and is bigger than I ever dreamed it would be - and I dreamed it would be unimaginably and unbearably big.  I thought it would be linear.  I was wrong.  It is still a day to day experience.  I sit with it, I cry, I move into it and out of it.  I am learning that maybe it is just a new way of being...that it might never "end" at all.  I moved on from the frustrating job I had in January to a new frustrating job that pays more, but still does not feed my soul.  I overestimated my energy and failed to follow through on a number of commitments. I have given into fear…a lot.  I didn’t lose weight, or save more money, or organize my cabinets and closets, or exercise more.  That being said...I believe I really did do the best I could.  Maybe 2015 was meant to teach me about acceptance and kindness in the face of falling short.  I got a lot of practice.

Not all is lost, though, because 2015 did bring about some things that did work...often gloriously.  I navigated a huge disruption of a very important relationship in my life.  It wasn’t perfect, but I weathered the storm without any bridge burning or dramatic exits.  I took care of myself this year in ways that I have never really been able to before by paying attention to my heart and doing my best to provide for it ahead of anything else.  Sometimes, that has meant pulling away, other times, that has meant reaching beyond my usual comfort zone.  Sometimes, it meant staying home and saying no to everything, and sometimes, it meant going far from home and saying yes to everything.  The willingness to do whatever is necessary has been a brave new milestone for me this year.  I want to grow that.  Finally, I wrote a book.  I could point out all of the ways that this very slender, self-published volume is not a “real” book, but I won’t.  Because when I hold it in my hands and turn the pages, I know that the words inside do not get more real…and the feeling in my heart is both spectacular and terrifying.  Have I arrived or am I just setting forth?  I don’t know.  More will be revealed, I suppose.

I have no specific plan for 2016, but I am interested and open to whatever it brings (Although, I might mention in advance that I prefer to avoid root canals, travel delays, tech failures, and pricey car repairs).  I want to continue to be uncompromising in the care of my own heart and grow the ways that I reach out in caring for others.   I want to learn to let go of what does not serve me without leaving claw marks.  I want to love both the waves and the still water.  I want to figure out how to live inside of my values.  Right effort…Right livelihood.  How can I take care of myself financially while contributing to a world in which I can feel alive?  What is the calling of my heart?  I am pretty sure I know this, but what can I do right now, right here to live more authentically from that?  Where can my talents and abilities be of the most service to others?  Where can they most serve my own happiness?  It’s a long way from here to there, but I think it must start with inquiry:  What is between me and joy?  What is between me and happiness?  What is between me and freedom?  These are the questions that really resonate as I head into the new year.

A verse from Rilke was a constant companion during my silent pilgrimage:

You, sent out beyond your recall,

Go to the limits of your longing.

Embody me.
Flare up like a flame

And make big shadows I can move in.
Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror.

Just keep going. No feeling is final.
Don't let yourself lose me.

Go to the limits of your longing.  Flare up like a flame.  Let everything happen.  This is what I want 2016 to look like…

May 2016 bring blessings beyond measure and be all that you need it to be…
May you be healthy, prosperous, and full of joy...
May you, and I, and all beings everywhere know love, peace, and freedom...


Sunday, December 20, 2015

Metta-Morphosis: Reflections on Becoming

The path holds me...carries me...transforms me...

So, I had to write about it.

Pick up a copy HERE


Sunday, November 15, 2015

Into The Temple

http://living-in-a-limited-world-to.blog.co.uk/2012/06/27/enter-the-real-dragon-13946313/
It is not without fear
That I enter this holy temple
Beckoned through darkness
By promise of the light
Dwelling deep inside
Come out from the murky shadow
Who dares to block the path
Show yourself to me now
Breathing fire
In your most terrible
Dragon disguise
I will bow before you
Until your loudest roar 
Becomes a whisper
I will stand in silent witness
To all that is your armor
Grief, hurt, anger, shame
Until every scale falls away
Revealing truth
Reflecting radiance
Illuminating the path
Into the sacred center

c.sharshel
11/15/2015


Sunday, November 1, 2015

Losing Ground: Learning How to Surrender


It's hard to believe that a full year has gone by since my mother passed away.  It sounds like such a long time, a year...but it feels like just a moment. I can still feel the warmth of her cheek on mine while I was whispering into her ear as her heart slowed and she took her final breaths.

It's remarkable how an entire life can get divided into "before" and "after" - how suddenly the reference point changes.

The moment I let go of my mother's hand that day, I tumbled over the edge of a cliff that I had only known in my worst nightmares.  Driven by panic and instinct, I flailed about recklessly and in vain searching for a handhold...a place to put my feet...anything to interrupt this terrifying, endless free fall into an encompassing abyss of grief and sorrow.  There is probably not a more effective way to learn to embrace groundlessness, than by the disappearance of the foundation of your entire existence.  

Some weeks after my mother's passing, I went to the park to meditate.  I sat on a bench with my eyes closed, following my breath and noting the sounds around me with the intention of just being in touch with the chilly winter morning that was unfolding.  After a few minutes passed, I was suddenly gripped by such intense panic that I actually gasped out loud.  My urge was to leave but, when I tried to get up, my legs felt paralyzed and I found I couldn't go anywhere.  So, I sat there breathing...hand on heart...reciting the only mantra I can come up with when I find myself so caught..."It's going to be ok.  It's all fine."  As I often do when I am struggling in my meditation, I began to call on my teacher in my mind.  What would she say to me in this moment if she were here?  I imagined her sitting quietly next to me on the bench...her presence supporting me...comforting me...holding space for this overwhelming fear and panic and sudden searing grief...gently reminding me to breathe, and breathe, and breathe.  

"I'm falling."  I whispered

"Yes."  She nodded

"There's nothing I can do about it and I hate it."  I said

"The resistance causes you to suffer, not the falling." She reminded me

"I don't know what to do."  The anxiety was growing again.

"Just let it happen."  she replied, and reassured me that she would stay right there as long as I needed her to.

In the moment I really sensed the very difficult truth that there was nothing to hold onto...and nothing to break my fall...there was such a sense of devastation - and then, such a deep, deep relief.  Understanding the absolute nature of the reality before me gave me what I needed to completely surrender to the falling...to the hurting...to the churning, dark, waves of grief that were cresting and crashing within.

Throughout this year, I have found myself returning to this place of surrender over and over again.  Some days, I surf and swim and some days it's more like treading water while the waves repeatedly crash down on my head, leaving me coughing and sputtering and gasping for air.  Every once in a while, the current will wash me up onto a tiny island beach...deserted and still...where I can look out over the beauty and vastness of the ocean that I belong to and replenish my energy for when the next rip tide comes to pull me out again.  

Time and again, my cushion supports more than just my posture as I navigate these waters...as I learn to live in groundless space.  It is the place where I go to remember...to remember my mom, to remember my heart, to remember the love of belonging.  It is the place I go to find safety, to touch reality, to understand truth.  It is a flotation device when the waves are high and my energy feels low - keeping me afloat and allowing me to rest until I have the strength to press on again.

I am so grateful for this path and the way these teachings hold me, guide me, and sustain me through whichever of the 10,000 joys or sorrows happens to be visiting in this very moment...

And this one...

And this one...

And this one...


Saturday, October 10, 2015

Sangha


Sangha

Namaste, my friend
I see the light inside you
No matter the joy or sorrow
That is in your heart right now
Let us sit together
In noble silence or
 Conscious conversation
Let us grow together
With compassion
And healing grace
Let us wake up together
Each as a mirror to the other
A reminder of the goodness
The truth of who we are

c.sharshel  
10/10/2015







*Image courtesy of Witthaya Phonsawat at FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Friday, October 9, 2015

Ending the War


5 years ago, if someone had shown me a photo of what life would look like today, I would have wholeheartedly laughed out loud.  If they had told me that, in the middle of the deepest grief and heartache of my life...as I was being battered and tossed by hurricane force winds and waves, I would wake up somehow in sacred space...I would have called them crazy right to their face.  If they had told me that, in 5 years, the whole landscape of my existence would be changed, I would have nodded politely and walked away shaking my head.

And yet, it all seems so.

Somewhere along the line, the raging, bloody, loud, relentless war with myself became a distant, intermittent whisper.  I don't know when it happened, or just how...one day, it just was.

I noticed that the language in which my head spoke to my heart had changed...less judging, more kind...

I noticed a certain tone of willingness in my life...to see...to stay...

One day, after a long period of pain...searing, ripping, blinding pain...I woke up and realized that something had shifted.  In that pause, for that brief moment, nothing hurt...everything was ok...nothing was wrong with me...and, maybe for the first time...I really touched that.  I believed it.

I trusted in the goodness of this heart beating in my chest.

Compassionate...loving...

Sacred space...

(It is almost a given that I will forget again.  So I decided to write it down)


~~~~~~~~~~


One of my favorite talks about ending the war with ourselves is a recent one from Tara Brach - "Radical Acceptance Revisited" - there is so much good stuff in it that I can't even fit it all onto the page.  Listen to the whole talk HERE.  (You can also visit her website at www.tarabrach.com for a ton of talks and guided meditations - all offered freely)



Thursday, October 8, 2015

October Leaves



October Leaves

The changing October leaves
Shifting, blazing, turning
Like fire against the autumn sky
Bold, brilliant, burning
The most spectacular spinning,
Swirling dance
Like they have something to prove
I wonder if they know
That their most glorious days
Are passing into the
Blustering breeze
Do they fear the letting go
Into their final falling?

c.sharshel
10/08/2015