Author: Forrest Hill

It is no secret that this past summer produced the warmest temperatures on Earth in recorded history. Though this season’s wildfires in the North Bay have been dissolved amazingly quick thus far, and we’ve been blessed by the wind with only a few days of smoky air from the fires up north, I am still touched by the magnitude of the suffering being endured by many living beings across our planet as the intensity of the heat waves, floods, fires, hurricanes and other weather events escalate, causing tremendous harm to ecosystems and communities. I know I’m not alone in my experience and that many of you reading these words are also moved by the suffering and possibility of this moment on Earth.

How do we summon our courage and resilience? How do we practice not looking away from the planetary crisis, and become a part of the healing, without fear freezing into overwhelm, numbness and/or despair?

What I’m learning collectively from the teachings, teachers, activists, artists, poets and writers I lean into for inspiration and support in these times is that it is now more important than ever that we remember the following 3 things in our bones:

• The interconnected nature of everything – Where do you sense this in the body, and what practices and activities support you in remembering the truth of our interdependence with all life?
• What really matters? – What qualities do you long to grow, experience, and have live through you? Love, Resilience, Ease, Connection, Courage, Patience, Joy, Equanimity, Fierce Compassion?
• What helps you to feel rested and resourced? – What choices support your health and well-being? What types of practices, connections and support help to keep your life in balance and lessen stress? Including support in many forms, such as: people, animals, nature, food, water, beauty, air, poetry, art, writing, movement, meditation, exercise, a cup of tea, a warm bath, music, looking up at the stars, a good night’s sleep.

Our modern sages are pointing us to what we must remember: When we know we belong to this world, are in touch with our deepest intentions, and feel rested and resourced enough, we have a far better chance of being able to access our capacity to receive the teachings and intuitive wisdom that will likely be essential to live through this time of planetary crisis with resilience and grace. And, perhaps then, we can discover and embody our connection to our own sense of agency and allow these difficult times to empower us to play our part in the healing of ourselves, our families, our communities, and our world.

Ayya Santacitta shared in a recent newsletter that these words by Vaclav Havel give her great inspiration in the midst of uncertainty:

“Hope is not the conviction that something will turn out well. It is the certainty that something is worth doing no matter how it turns out.”

I couldn’t resonate more.

May our actions spring forth from this current of hope.

May we take good care of ourselves and one another, allowing our hearts to break fully when touched by loss, and remembering our love and gratitude for life itself and the breathtaking beauty of our dynamic, living world in need of our urgent care.

And, may we remember the truth of our belonging to this intricate web of life, and that, together with the help of this web we belong to, our collective intentions and actions can become a powerful force of healing, creative innovation, regeneration, and peace.

As we continue to adapt to this difficult time on the planet, we are being asked to create new ways of living and being— to care more deeply for one another that we may end a pandemic and survive annual wildfires that have become “the new normal”, to acknowledge and attend to the dismantling of systemic racism within our country and within ourselves, and to work together to heal a climate crisis that isn’t out there in the future but already here and now.

As I write this evening, the thick wildfire smoke of the day is clearing a bit above the City of Napa. A temporary break in the ebb and flow of smokey and somewhat less smokey air. In this moment, I am able to see the eastern hills clearly out my living room window. I have been pausing to drink this in. Not in any “special” way, but with simple, straightforward acknowledgement of the blessing of a-little-bit-cleaner air. I receive the impact of this view in the softening body, noticing the truth: I am safe in this moment and I am able to drink this in. “Don’t know” how the wind will blow, but here and now is ok.

During these complex times there are five practices that support ease that I find myself leaning into each day:

• Notice moments where you experience a sense of “ok-ness” as they arise, inviting ease and supporting the calming of the nervous system (Where do you feel this sense of ease in the body?)
• Call back home the mind that worries forward into a future that is unknown. (Note to yourself, like a gentle whisper in the back of the mind, “don’t know”, calling on the truth of this moment with compassion.)
• Stay close to the Earth by feeling your feet on the ground with each step, feeling the support of the Earth beneath you and the trees that we breathe with, breath by breath. Remember the interdependence of all of life, and your part in that web.
• Remember that, in times of great challenge, it isn’t just “ok” to savor moments of ease as they arise, it’s imperative to our well-being. Pause throughout the day to drink in any and all subtle or expansive moments of ease as they arrive. Not grasping but receiving, allowing ease to come and go, savoring it while it’s here.
• When it is available, use the energy of ease and gratitude that arises to intentionally take part in a compassionate action each day. This may be an act of kindness toward your own precious being, an act of support toward the well-being of others (loved ones, pets, strangers, neighbors, community, country) or an action that helps the natural world. Savor the experience of gratitude, belonging, and/or sense of purpose that arises when we know that we are a part of something much bigger than ourselves: we are a part of the healing of ourselves, our communities, and our world.

From my view, there is no better time than this very moment to keep our inner compass pointed in the direction of the daily life practices and circles of support that invite us to be grounded in the body, to align with fierce compassion, and to grow the courage and kindness needed to be a part of the healing of our hearts/minds and our world.

May we be well. May we remember our connection with all of life, one breath at a time. May we learn to care for one another and the Earth, day by day. May the Earth and all life know safety, healing and peace.

We’ve all experienced some pretty powerful emotions since Tuesday evening and I wanted to share the experience I had at Spirit Rock on Wednesday…

Having listened to many of Sylvia Boorstein’s dharma talks, I have always wanted to sit with her. I’ve had her schedule marked on my phone for some time and was looking forward to a Wednesday that I could head over to Spirit Rock! Lori and I were planning on going yesterday, but a couple of weeks ago she let me know she would be unable to make it and I kinda put it on the back burner,,, until I sat in our meditation group Tuesday night and felt so much better…

I don’t know about the rest of you but upon entering the building that evening I sensed a palpable energy, and it wasn’t necessarily a good energy (for me at least). The results of the election had begun rolling in and it wasn’t looking good. A sense of shock pervaded the room and our faces showed it. This was monumental. Historical. And there we all were – together. What meant the most to me was the actual meditation, which became calm and peaceful and I sensed all of that energy that had been detected earlier dissipate in our common goal of coming to that peace that passes understanding and that presence we have all grown to know and love.

On returning home I felt the unease begin to creep in again and I thought to myself, “Well this was so wonderful tonight – I will journey to Spirit Rock in the morning”.

Leaving at 7:25, I was quickly engulfed in the bumper to bumper commute traffic, with no agenda accept to get there by 9. Listening to a dharma talk from Dharma Seed, I was cool. So cool that when Siri suggested a quicker route I thought I didn’t have anything to lose! (Plus, I changed Siri’s voice to the Australian male, and I just couldn’t say no!) Before long I found myself going through the town of Novato (or was it Petaluma?) and out into the country. I began to look around at the stunning landscape and felt such a sense of peace and connectedness with myself, the land, and curiously enough, my country. Truly, I felt at one with the universe and ever so grateful that I have the practice that I have. Just loving life and all that it entails – the good and the bad, the highs and the lows, the sadness and the joy of living in this human body on this fragile planet.

I remember thinking as I slowed down to snap photos that I would be fine if I didn’t make it to sit with Sylvia, although I was sure she would be imparting wisdom and dharma in her inimitable way that would surely inspire my post-election increasing sense of well-being!

As I zipped along I passed the most stunning glass-like lake. The reflection of the land around was perfectly mirrored on the smooth surface. The heavens came down and landed on the water with such clarity I was stunned.

And that is when I passed the Highway Patrol who instantly turned on his lights and siren and yes, I was pulled over. It has not been a regular occurrence in my life but indeed it has happened more than a couple of times! I was so taken with the experience I was having, that I was pretty much nonplussed with the speeding ticket… however, I will admit as I pulled away my mood did a little bit of a nose-dive. I thought to myself, “How funny, for this is life. One minute blissed out, the next – not so much”.

I eventually made my way to Spirit Rock and being about 20 minutes late, I opened the door quietly and tip-toed in.

And sitting up in front of about 70 folks – was not Sylvia.

It was Tony.

Tony, Sylvia’s friend.

He was great and his dharma talk was on point – compassionate and relevant to what we had all just experienced.

And that is when I had a good chuckle over the best laid plans and expectations we project in our lives. Whether it be a beautiful and inspiring drive through the countryside being sidetracked by a speeding ticket, the expectation of sitting with Sylvia turning in to sitting with Tony, or the fact that the one I expected to lead our country will not be doing so.

In Alcoholics Anonymous we talk about the “ism” of alcoholism. It’s mostly discussed around the notion that alcoholics are different from the rest of the normal folks of the world. The “ism” of the disease supposedly sets us apart from our brethren and the idea is to fight hard to recognize and eliminate or minimize behavior that may lead to another drink. I haven’t particularly been a fan of this concept, but I do know many who hang their hat on this concept and live their lives in the “ism” of the disease.

What I have learned in my years of spiritual inquiry is I have adapted the “ism” of living. The “ism” of just living life on life’s terms – as in “It is what it is”. This is the “ism” I choose to hang my hat on today, and I have been greatly enriched and blessed that you folks are all on this journey with me.

Or I with you. Heck, we’re all in this together!

Since January, the Napa Valley Insight Meditation community has spent many a Tuesday evening exploring the teachings of the Noble Eightfold Path– the Buddha’s map of the path that leads to true happiness and peace.

If your mind is like mine can be at times, one of your thoughts after reading what I just wrote may be, “Well, that may be possible for a small number of people but, let’s be real, I’ll never get there.” From my experience, when this type of thought comes in, if we aren’t able to create some space around it (to hold it within kind awareness) we may find we don’t have much interest in exploring an Eightfold Path practice. Furthermore, we may begin this practice with an agitated, skeptical mind that is ready to fix our lives, judge ourselves and others, feel dragged down by our inner story of unworthiness, and/or create impossible expectations of how life should be. We know the “ouch” of holding this perspective.

When parts of my mind go to this place of doubt, I’ve found it helpful to redirect the mind toward curiosity as you might a young child who is stuck in the “no, no, nos”. Just as we can show a child an oak ball or the new kitty next door, we can see if our mind would be willing to open to the possibility of inviting in a sense of friendliness and curiosity as it tries out some new practices and sees for itself whether these practices lead to more well-being or more suffering.

From my experience, the more I practice, take in the data and experience the fruits of practice, the more motivated I am to engage in Eightfold Path practice for the benefit of myself and all beings.

For me, this motivation seems to grow out of the accumulation of daily life moments of direct experience of what leads to more suffering and what leads to greater peace.

Sometimes the benefits of practice are immediately clear to me and, often, I experience the benefits in more of a long-term trajectory whereby, looking back upon my life, I realize how deeply my mind/heart have changed over time– Wise Understanding grows clear seeing and contentment; Wise Intention plants the seeds for Wise Speech and Wise Action; Wise Action generates a sense of safety and compassion; Wise Livelihood grows a spirit of goodwill, service and gratitude; Wise Effort, Wise Mindfulness and Wise Concentration help cultivate a stable base from which to rest in mindful awareness.

The Buddha encourages us to “be a light unto yourself”, to see for ourselves. Our Eightfold Path practice and direct experience can show us the way. From my experience, we can, indeed, incline our minds and hearts toward less suffering and greater peace, one moment at a time.

I began my meditation practice in earnest about 11 years ago. I was originally motivated to practice because of a desire to overcome anxiety and depression, feelings that had followed me around for most of my life. For the first couple of years, I focused on trying to “perfect” my practice in order to become happy. I had a “goal” and that goal was to rid myself of the unpleasant feelings that had caused me so much suffering. While all of my efforts helped improve my ability to sit for long periods of time, it did little to alter my temperament.

I was beginning to feel frustrated with meditation and even considered quitting, when I made the fortunate decision to attend a residential retreat at Sprit Rock led by Arinna Weisman. During the retreat she led several guided meditations on lovingkindness (metta) that opened my heart in ways I had never experienced before. While I was familiar with metta practice, I hadn’t until then taken it very seriously. What I learned from Arinna was that even when I don’t feel particularly lovable, I can still plant seeds of friendliness and care towards myself and others, knowing that in time they will bear fruit.

If you practice meditation for any time, you’ll quickly see that cultivating a spirit of kindness towards yourself is key to staying on the path towards liberation. Having the capacity to touch this feeling of metta – this innate sense of genuine love and kindness – allows us to open our heart and let the world in without expectations. We can see this when we are around people that radiate this sense of genuine kindness. They can make us feel important and at ease, not because of anything we’ve done, but because we are a fellow human being. Great spiritual leaders like Mahatma Gandhi, Mother Teresa, the Dalai Lama and Martin Luther King, Jr. exude this quality, as well as many ordinary people who somehow have this great gift and capacity.

This quality of metta manifests as a generous and openness of heart that simply wishes happiness for all beings. Metta is unconditional. It does not seek self-benefit, but is offered without expectations. Because this feeling is not dependent on external conditions, on people or events behaving a certain way, it is not easily disappointed or dissatisfied. As metta grows within us we become more open to ourselves, our neighbors and the world.

Like all qualities of the mind, metta can be strengthened with practice. We can begin in our meditation practice by silently repeating simple phrases that are meant to evoke metta within ourselves, for example some typical phrases suggested by Sharon Salzberg are:

May I be happy

May I be peaceful

May I be healthy

May I live with ease

The exact phrases we use do not particularly matter, it is the underlying feeling that they are intended to evoke where we want to focus our awareness. As we continue to repeat the phrases, we can begin sending metta to our friends by wishing that they may be happy, peaceful, healthy and at ease. Finally, we can expand our practice further to include people we don’t know very well, difficult people and eventually to all beings.

When practicing metta for ourselves or others, it is not unusual to feel that we are not loving enough, or that the practice is not working. Maybe we have an idea of what metta should feel like, an ecstatic feeling, waves of bliss, etc., and end up feeling discourage when these states don’t arise. All of these emotions are simply part of the practice and objects for mindfulness. They are a chance for us to open our hearts to whatever arises and allow the world in.

The Buddha suggested that we can also strengthen this feeling of metta by focusing on the good qualities of others in our daily lives. Finding fault and criticizing others is really a seductive habit that can be hard to break. Focusing on the positive qualities of others doesn’t mean we ignore their faults. Instead it helps us see the whole person for who they are without becoming sentimental about it. When we cultivate metta in this way, it helps us foster a greater sense of well-being towards ourselves and a greater appreciation of the joy and sorrows experienced by all beings.

by Jeff Schwamberger

I have to confess I’ve always been utterly baffled by the Buddha’s teaching on the Five Skandhas—the so-called “aggregates” that trick us into thinking we have a self when we really don’t.

Okay, worse than baffled. Totally, teeth-grindingly annoyed.

For starters, the English words used to translate the Pali terms seems hopelessly abstract, and different traditions and different teachers use different abstractions—the term “sanna” alone is translated as perception, conception, apperception, cognition, and discrimination. Worse, the English words are such a grab bag of approximations, my everyday intuitive understanding of the words not only gets me nowhere, it just confuses me even more. And when I think I’ve finally got some sort of inkling about the sort of experiences that fit into each of the skandhas, it’s still all so totally arbitrary I can’t get the model to map either neatly or completely to what I’m experiencing in my head.

So when Forrest gave his talk last week on the Skandhas, I once again found myself at the end of the evening with clenched jaw and knitted brow.

But after wrestling with the skandhas for a few days, I think I finally got a tiny little glimmer of insight into what they’re all about. The key was Forrest’s wonderfully simple definition of the skandhas as “the stuff that makes up our concept of the self.” I realized I was so distracted by my inability to grok the Buddha’s abstract model of the skandhas that I was missing the whole point, namely, what they do. The Trick They Play.

The trigger was my remembering an experience I had about three years ago that I’ve taken to calling “The Tale of the Bodhisattva Fly.” It was just this time of year, a beautiful May day, the sun was shining, the birds were singing, there was a gentle breeze wafting through the tree tops. I settled on my cushion for a blissful half hour of meditation, just let my body breathe, and all was right with the world. For about five minutes. Then bzzzzzzz. This dang fly started buzzing around. Then it would alight, I’d go back to my breath, and a minute later bzzzzzzzzz. Effing fly, I’d think. Gosh darn it. Then it would alight, I’d go back to my breath, and a minute later bzzzzzzzzz. But after about the fourth or fifth time, suddenly I realized, wait, wait, wait—

There’s a fly.

The fly’s wings beat, setting up sound waves in the air.

The sound waves hit my ear.

My sense perception of the sound waves sends a signal to my brain that rightly interprets the sound and recognizes that there’s a fly in the room.

PERIOD.

I’m the one who’s adding the annoyance. The annoyance is extra. There’s just fly, sound waves, sense perception, accurate mental image.

That little insight seemed so significant to me that I wove a little tale so I wouldn’t forget it — The Tale of the Bodhisattva Fly: Some bodhisattva somewhere allowed himself to be reborn as a fly and made a point of finding its way into my room just so I could have that tiny little photon of insight.

What Forrest’s wonderfully simple definition of the skandhas did was let me make another connection that I’ve been feeling myself on the edge of but just couldn’t quite get a handle on. To wit:

Just as I’m adding the annoyance, the annoyance is adding the “I”.

There’s no annoyance without a “me” to be annoyed. A concept of self evolves when the totally natural Object to Perception to Mental Image process picks up momentum and sets off the totally unnecessary chain reaction “I” Find That Unpleasant > “I’m” Annoyed > “I’m” Gonna Fix It, “I’m” Gonna Kill That Fly.

In Thundering Silence (maybe “buzzzzing silence,” in my case), Thich Nhat Hanh says, “There is a simple and general way to explain no-self, which is that there is no single entity whose identity is changeless. All things are constantly changing. Nothing endures forever or contains a changeless element called a ‘self’.”

The metaphor that works for me is to think of this moment-to-moment experience as like a heads-up display in a fighter jet, constantly changing, accurately reflecting what’s going on out there, letting the pilot control and navigate the craft. Just as the body simply breathes in and out, the mind is simply aware moment to moment. Oh, there’s a pilot all right, very real, totally alive, but he simply arises in each moment and changes in the next just like the ever-changing readings on the display. Neither would be of any use otherwise.

So there’s a pilot, but there’s no need to get tricked into imagining there’s a hero, a drama, a crisis, Tom Cruise. That’s all extra.

And it somehow maybe sheds a photon or two of light on that unfathomable admonition that when we sit, there’s no one to be.