The desire to know and recognize God, Truth, to experience that sweet space of Oneness is thought by some philosophers to be the root of all desire, the one desire.  It may be that the desire disguises itself, showing up as a wish for a new car, or a particular job.  Perhaps it shows up as some wanting for a girlfriend, a boyfriend, a relationship.  However it comes to us, there is desire. 

We, in our ignorance, sometimes think that desire itself will cease when we obtain the object of our wanting.  Yet, the moment we fulfill one desire, the moment we obtain the object of our wanting, there is another desire.  Often, even before we obtain the object of our wanting, there is still another desire.  Desire itself never goes away.  Whatever mundane satisfaction we experience in the fulfillment of one desire fades in a short while only to be replaced with a new desire.

In fact, Patanjali, in his yoga sutras, offers guidance as to how one transcends the desires of the ego and return to the purist desire of the soul, to know God.  He suggests that we be relentless in our determination to know and recognize God.  He advises spiritual aspirants to gain gradual control over the negative tendencies of the mind through vigilant self-inquiry.  He wrote that we should ask ourselves, “Why do I really desire that object?  What permanent advantage should I gain by possessing it?  In what way would its possession help greater freedom and knowledge?”  Even without going full boar into contemplating these questions, it’s easy to see how ephemeral our mundane desires are.

In all our restless wanting, we get lost and end up collecting all kinds of stuff that can clutter our lives even more .  Or, we feel that the goal of our wanting is beyond our reach.  This is especially evident in those who reach for the high goal of knowing Truth.  Clearly, as we work towards the achievement of a particular goal, we have all experienced the alluring pull to simply give up and quit.  How many students quit before they obtain their goal and graduate?  Either they fall prey to the mistaken belief that they will never reach their goal due to their own ignorance, the demands of family, or the whining and screaming of their own ego leads them down a different road.  How many times have you found yourself confronted by a particular job or goal that stretched beyond what you thought you were capable of, only to find that in your tenacious perseverance, you succeeded?

I’ve been re-reading a translation of the Shiva Sutras, an text from the tradition of Kashmir Shaivism.  One of the sutras reads, “Nothing exists that is not Shiva.”  Shiva, of course, is another name for all-pervasive consciousness, God, the Great Mystery, Allah, Shiva, The God of 10,000 Names.  This teaching is echoed in Psalm 139 in the Holy Bible, “Whither shall I go from thy spirit? Or whither shall I flee from thy presence?  If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there: If I make my bed in hell, behold, thou art there.”

This God of 10,000 Names seems to have left clues about how to live a life filled with wonder, experiencing the Great Mystery in all that is.  So instead of wasting time dismissing the beliefs and ideas that don’t match our own, what if we all found some common threads and wove those threads into a coat of many colors, a coat that warms our heart and opens us to a greater sense of the wonder of the Divine, right now?  For, isn’t right now all we really have?

One of the easiest ways I’ve found to bring myself back to now is to use my senses.  I’ve found that you can use the details provided your senses to enhance your awareness of God in the present moment.  Simply remind yourself, this thing I see, this scent, this sensation,  this sound, this taste, this, too, is God.  This, too, is God.  This, too, is God.  Our senses can take us to the experience of God or away from the experience of God.  Honoring each thing we touch, each thing we taste, each thing we hear, each thing we smell can bring us ever closer to experiencing the all pervasive consciousness of the Divine.

With this kind of honoring and respect, imagine what kind of colorful coat might we weave together!

Thich Nhat Hanh a contemporary Buddhist monk, writes with great elegance of the joy to be found in bringing our awareness to the present moment.  He encourages us to be so completely immersed in the task at hand that it becomes to us the most important thing in our life.

In The Miracle of Mindfulness, he writes, “While washing the dishes, you might be thinking about the tea afterwards, and so try to get them out of the way as quickly as possible in order to sit and drink tea.  But that means that you are incapable of living during the time you are washing the dishes.  When you are washing the dishes, washing the dishes must be the most important thing in your life.  Just as when you’re drinking tea, drinking tea must be the most important thing in your life.”

When I look into the lives of spiritually awake people across spiritual traditions, there seems to be a common thread.  Each lived or lives deliberately with an appreciation of the uniqueness of each moment, each circumstance, each person.

Each of us can let each moment become a moment of deliberate, conscious living.  Each of us can learn, with practice, patience, and perseverance, to greet the Presence of God, of Consciousness, of Spirit, of Shakti and welcome that formless Presence regardless of the form.  Each of us can let each moment’s experience become a way of seeking out God’s Presence and increasing our love for that Presence.

Living in such a way, we become the artists of our own life.  We can sculpt, paint, and dance our way through each day.  We need only to pick up and use the tools at our disposal and one of these tools is the practice of the present moment.

Of course, we cannot shape each circumstances of our lives, though there is debate about that.  We can, however, completely shape our response to Life circumstances and embrace the Presence in each unfolding moment.  With Grace, we step aside from the thoughts that lead us to believe Grace is somewhere other than the present.

This may seem obvious, ridiculous or perhaps overwhelming.  Yet, in practice it becomes sublime and poetic.  It may be that searching out the sacred in each day, looking for holiness in a single moment over the course of a single day feels more attainable than the seemingly monumental task of recognizing the sacredness of each and every moment.

However you approach such a practice, the practice is one of slowing down for the moment, by doing one thing at a time.  A neighbor of mine once summed this up for me with beautiful simplicity, “when walking, walk.”

The integration of centering practices is a meaningful way of enriching your experience of the Presence in the present.  If you are interested in deepening your experience of centering practice, consider investing in my new 21 day audio program - Reclaim Your Life and Learn to Live in Balance.

Thich Nhat Hanh, a contemporary Buddhist monk, writes with great elegance of the joy to be found in bringing our awareness to the present moment.  He encourages us to be so completely immersed in the task at hand that it becomes to us the most important thing in our life.

He writes, “While washing the dishes, you might be thinking about the tea afterwards, and so try to get them out of the way as quickly as possible in order to sit and drink tea.  But that means that you are incapable of living during the time you are washing the dishes.  When you are washing the dishes, washing the dishes must be the most important thing in your life.  Just as when you’re drinking tea, drinking tea must be the most important thing in your life.” (Miracle of Mindfulness, p. 24)

With such great beings as Brother Lawrence, and our own contemporaries, such as Thich Nhat Hanh, we are in good company in our search for the Truth.  It is through the glimpses of the Divine that philosophers, poets and saints have experienced and shared that we find assurance that such a search is not in vain.

From their yearning to know Truth, they seem to have attained great understanding and found their way Home.  It is our good fortune that they left many clues on the path.  The reverence with which they approached the moments of their lives, continue to inspire seekers today.

Such seekers seem (for who among us truly knows the experience of another)  to deliberately approach life with an appreciation of the uniqueness of each moment, each circumstance, each person.

We, too, can let each moment become a moment of deliberate, conscious living.  We, too, can learn, with practice, patience, and perseverance, to greet the Presence in the present and welcome that formless Presence regardless of the form.  We, too, can let each moment’s experience become a way of seeking out Presence and open to that experience whole-heartedly.  Even the joys and the sorrows, opening to what is present.

Not one of us escapes heart-ache and truly not one of us lives every single moment in that kind of pain.  It seems that in opening to be with what is as it is, ‘what is’ seems to change.  All this to say, say ‘hello’ to this moment with your whole heart.

There is a beautiful story by Leo Tolstoy that further illustrates the sublime practice of the present moment, “The Emperor’s Three Questions.”  This story is replete with teachings about recognizing and serving the Divine in each other as well as practicing the present moment to experience the Presence.  In Tolstoy’s story, the emperor sent out the decree that he would richly reward the one who answered these questions to his satisfaction;

1.  When is the best time to do each thing?

2.  Who are the most important people to work with?

3.  What is the most important thing to do at all times?

Many, many people tried and failed to answer these seemingly simple questions.  The emperor set off in search of the answers himself.  He was told of a holy man who lived as a hermit and decided to find the hermit.  Surely, such a man would be able to answer the questions.

When he finally reached the holy man, the emperor found him stooped, working in his garden.  The hermit listened attentively to his questions, patted the emperor on the shoulder, and continued digging.  The emperor, although perplexed by the hermit’s indifference to him, offered to help the old man.  The hermit rested while the emperor dug.  Many hours passed this way.

After some time, a wounded man approached.  The emperor helped him, and dressed his wounds.  In the morning, the wounded man regained consciousness and asked for water, which the emperor promptly fetched from the stream.

To the surprise of the emperor, the wounded man asked for the emperor’s forgiveness.  The wounded man explained that he was a sworn enemy of the emperor who had killed his brother and seized his property.  He had set off to kill the emperor but was caught by the emperor’s attendants who wounded him.  After hearing the wounded man’s story, the emperor and the wounded man reconciled and the emperor ordered his attendants to return the man safely to his home.

The emperor approached the hermit, again asked his questions.  The hermit smiled telling the emperor that his questions had already been answered.

The most important time was the time spent digging in the garden.  For had the emperor not stopped and helped the old man by digging in the garden, he would have been attacked.

The most important person was the hermit and the most important pursuit was to help the hermit.  Later, the most important time was the time spent helping the wounded man.

The most important person was of course the wounded man.

And the most important pursuit was dressing his wounds, for had he not done that the emperor would never have had the chance to reconcile with the man.

The old holy man told the emperor, “Remember that there is only one important time and that is now.  The present moment is the only time over which we have dominion.  The most important person is always the person you are with, who is right before you, for who knows if you will have dealings with any other person in the future.  The most important pursuit is making that person, the one standing at your side, happy, for that alone is the pursuit of life.” (From Leo Tolstoy’s short story The Three Questions)

It seems that in order to discover the wisdom hidden in such a story (as well as the stories of our own lives) and drink the nectarean wisdom infused throughout such tales, we must slow down and contemplate the story.

The obvious message for being present and giving oneself fully to each unfolding moment offers an enticing entry into such contemplation.  Yet, simply glancing at the notion that the “pursuit of life” is solely to bring happiness to the person at our side can raise the hackles of most of us who have been immersed in the pop psychology literature of the last couple of decades.

When I first read the story I felt myself bristle at the notion of trying to make another happy, after all, we are each responsible for ourselves, and our state of mind.  However, upon considering how I would be with the person at my side if I knew her to be God, if he revealed himself to me as the essence of Divine Consciousness.  Might then my pursuit indeed be to bring the Lord happiness?  Only with a quiet mind have I glimpse the purity of such a pursuit.  Again, I’m reminded of the value of a daily meditation practice.

Each one of us is faced with the challenge to slow down the rushing activity of the mind and the body and taste the nectar of the moments that make up daily life.  For only in the present moment does Love, does the Greatest Mystery, reveal Itself.  Only in the present can we glimpse Grace sneaking in.

As I mentioned in a previous Sacred Threads post, I sometimes feel as though I am playing a great game of hide and seek with God.  If I let myself be still enough even in the midst of activity, I spot God and find mySelf at Home, in Heaven, in my heart.  Enough of these moments strung together are like perfect pearls joining to form an exquisitely simple yet beautifully elegant strand of jeweled moments that make up the garland of my life.

“Under all circumstances, always, everywhere, and in all respects,

you must look upon everything as Brahman, and Brahman alone.”

~ Crest Jewel of Discrimination

Brother Lawrence mastered this teaching as he made it his practice to behave in each moment “as if there were no one but Thee and Me.”  When I offer the present moment my one pointed attention and greet the present moment with ultimate abandon, free from the gnarled cage of expectation, that is the moment I find God being God in myriad shapes and forms.  That is the moment I feel the peace of the Presence in the present.

Greeting the Beloved in the present moment with respect is a doorway through which we can all “practice the Presence of God.”  Within this sublime practice of mindfulness, any one of us can begin living as if there were none but “Thee and Me” in the world.  With this kind of awareness, we cannot help but welcome God in His all-pervasive form with myriad faces and varied costumes.  Each moment weaves the sacred tapestry of holiness.

Yet, I sure tend to get distracted with a single thread of thought, activity, or sense pleasure and mistake the thought, activity or sense pleasure for the “Real Truth” rather than our experience of Being as Truth.  Similarly, I can get carried away by my ideas about God and Truth rather than absorbing myself in the experience of Being as a portal to the Truth, a portal to LOVE.

Dostoevsky, in his book The Brothers Karamazov, knew the blessing of beckoning love in the present moment.  He wrote, “Love all God’s creation, both the whole and every grain of sand.  Love every leaf, every ray of light.  Love the animals, love the plants, love each separate thing.  If thou love each thing thou wilt perceive the mystery of God in all.”

These days, we have access to great teachers on practicing presence.  Among my favorites is Thich Nhat Hanh.

If you are interested in playing more in this field of mindfulness, consider joining me in Provence.  Or if you want to give the gift of a lifetime to your mother, wife, sister or friend, invite her to join me.

Note to Reader:  Sacred Threads is a spiritual memoir/essay of sorts, if you like, go to archives and begin reading from the earliest post.

On this cold, wintry day, I’m reminded of a very different day.   After a long weekend of tiring work, a friend of mine and I took a day of rest on the beach.  After a long walk, we lay side by side gazing at the sky.  My body felt still and my mind quiet as I lay on the beach with the sun penetrating my skin and warming me to the center of my bones.

I remember breathing  deeply and taking in the great expanse above us.  After some time, I asked her if she could see thousands of tiny dots of light.  They seemed to dance before the eyes.  She saw them too.

Together, we gazed at the sky in wonder.  I felt myself as made of the same particles of light that danced before me.  I experienced a dissolving of the illusion that my friend and I were somehow different than the sand, the ocean, and the sky.  I was filled with a sense of quiet wonder and complete love, a kind of love that seemed to pour itself over me like warm honey.

This kind of gazing is in fact a centering technique drawn from an ancient Hindu text, The Vijnana Bhairava.

Many texts of ancient India have been translated in the last hundred years or so from Sanskrit to English, providing yet more doorways through which we can enter the Garden.  The Vijnana Bhairava is a collection of dharanas, centering techniques.

These techniques not only center a seeker, but open her to experiencing the wonder of the Divine Presence.  The English Translation of this text has a captivating title, “The Yoga of Delight, Wonder, and Astonishment.”

One of my favorite centering techniques from this text is the practice of gazing, without blinking as much as possible, at the sky.  “If one makes himself thoroughly immobile beholds the pure (cloudless) sky, at that very moment, O goddess, he will acquire the nature of Bhairava (Supreme Consciousness).” (The Yoga of Delight, Wonder and Astonishment, p. 78).

As each object of Nature carries the energy of God, the Presence of Divine Consciousness, it follows that each object of Nature can then carry the wisdom of the Divine.  However, to experience that recognition we must stop, but for a moment, to consider Nature to be a manifestation of God.

Even the path of the sun in the sky, lends itself to revealing the mysterious Presence of God in its very predictability.  Further contemplating the sun, I have experienced its generosity in the sensation of warmth on my skin, or in the taste of fruit in remembrance of the sun’s rays.

The ways in which we can contemplate Nature and find solace in it is endless.  In fact, images of Nature, simply gazing at Nature, can naturally return us to a state of peace.  Such images are abundant, infinite and easily accessible. Walking outside and gazing up at the sky, or simply sitting where you are and remembering the vastness of the sky can lure you to the experience of knowing you are in the Presence.

The Native American reverence for Nature is well known and continues to gain respect as many look to deepen their understanding and challenge previously held beliefs and assumptions.

Consider the wisdom in this statement from the Mohawk Nation, “We are shown that our life exists with the tree life, that our well being depends on the well-being of the vegetable life, that we are close relatives of the four-legged beings.  In our ways, spiritual consciousness is the highest form of politics . . . We believe that all living things are spiritual beings.  Spirits can be expressed as energy forms manifested in matter.  A blade of grass is an energy form manifested in matter – grass matter.  The spirit of the grass is that unseen force which produces the species of grass, and it is manifest to us in the form of real grass.”(15)

Any aspect of Nature, from a single acorn, to the changing seasons can teach us more of the Truth of who we are.  What if we were to listen, and let God be God in any and all manifestations before us?  Might then we glimpse the beauty and peace of the Eternal in the Present moment?

P.S.  If you are interested in learning and experience moments of Divinity in Nature, consider joining my Women’s Retreat in Provence, June 2010.  Only 3 spots left!

OK.  I’ll give it a go.

First, let’s hear from Webster.

1 : the self especially as contrasted with another self or the world
2 a : egotism 2 b : self-esteem 1
3 : the one of the three divisions of the psyche in psychoanalytic theory that serves as the organized conscious mediator between the person and reality especially by functioning both in the perception of and adaptation to reality — compare id, superego

— ego·less adjective

My turn.

I think the ego is that part of you and me that feels afraid, like somehow we are different and alone.

And it’s that feeling many of us get when we think we something prove or we have to prove something (are those two different things?)

Ego, sweet ego.

It’s all the ways we find to feel separate, like we aren’t the same as everyone else.

It’s that part of us that budgets our capacity to Love, to love what is unfolding before us and within us in each unfolding moment.

It’s moment that you and I fold and scootch away from acknowledging to ourselves or someone else some small, or medium-sized or some large perceived failure.  For such failure becomes a less than in our eyes, separating us from others and our own true brilliance.

It’s all the wondering, “what would they think if they really knew?”  Or more simply, “what do they think of me?

Dear, sweet ego.

It’s when we sit as judge and jury, condemning ourselves and others for various misdemeanors.

It’s that part of us that finds elaborately unique and creative ways of stepping out of the stream of pure Love a thousand or more times each and everyday.

It’s the giving in to the pull to withhold an experience or expression of the truth, pure love, understanding, joy.

It’s all that clinging and holding on to this or that hurt, perception, belief, want, idea, anger or any of the other myriad ways we hold on.  That. That’s ego.

Your turn.

Here’s a little secret, we are NOT our egos.

Oh.  And, how about a little less ego and a little more love this holiday?

Charleston on the Battery

If’ you’ve been reading for a while, you know by now that I find comfort in exploring my spirituality from multiple vantage points including diving into esoteric spiritual texts from a variety of cultures and human experience.  One of these texts is the Vijnana Bhairava. This book is a collection of dharanas, centering techniques.  These techniques not only center a seeker, but open her to experiencing the wonder of the Divine Presence.  The English Translation of this text has a captivating title, “The Yoga of Delight, Wonder, and Astonishment.”

One of my favorite centering techniques from this text is the practice of gazing, without blinking, at the sky.  “If one makes himself thoroughly immobile beholds the pure (cloudless) sky with fixed eyes, at that very moment, O goddess, he will acquire the nature of Bhairava (Supreme Consciousness).”

One day, after a long weekend of tiring work, a friend of mine and I took a day of rest on the beach.  After a long walk, we lay side by side gazing at the sky, our bodies still and minds quiet.  We breathed deeply and took in the great expanse above us.  After some time, I asked her if she could see the thousands of tiny dots of light that seemed to be dancing before my eyes.  She did.  Together, we gazed at the sky in wonder.  I felt myself as made of the same particles of light that danced before me.  I experienced a dissolving of the illusion that my friend and I were somehow different than the sand, the ocean, and the sky.  I was filled with a sense of quiet wonder and complete love.

As each object of Nature carries the energy of God, the Presence of the Divine, it follows that each object of Nature can then carry the wisdom of the Divine.  However, to experience that recognition I must stop, but for a moment, to consider it to be a manifestation of God.  I pause.  And, in that pause, Nature seems to open a doorway to reveal some Truth.

Even the path of the sun in the sky, lends itself to revealing the mysterious Presence of God in its very predictability.  Further contemplating the sun, I experience its generosity in the sensation of warmth on my skin or taste a bite of fruit in remembrance of its rays.  The ways in which I can contemplate Nature and find solace in it is truly endless.

In fact, images of Nature, simply gazing at Nature can naturally return me to a state of peace.  Such images are abundant, infinite and easily accessible.  For instance, walking outside and gazing up at the sky, or simply sitting where I am and remembering the vastness of the sky can lure me to the experience of knowing I am in the Presence of God.

It’s comforting to me to know I’m not alone in my quest to deepen my relationship to Spirit and to use any doorway that takes me there.  Nature is a broad doorway.  The Native American reverence for Nature is well known and continues to gain respect as many look to deepen their understanding of and appreciation of Nature as well as challenge previously held beliefs and assumptions.

Consider the wisdom in this statement from the Mohawk Nation (This quote is from an old journal and I can’t find the source.  If anyone knows the source, please share), “We are shown that our life exists with the tree life, that our well being depends on the well-being of the vegetable life, that we are close relatives of the four-legged beings.  In our ways, spiritual consciousness is the highest form of politics . . . We believe that all living things are spiritual beings.  Spirits can be expressed as energy forms manifested in matter.  A blade of grass is an energy form manifested in matter – grass matter.  The spirit of the grass is that unseen force which produces the species of grass, and it is manifest to us in the form of real grass.”

Any aspect of Nature, from a single acorn, to the changing seasons can teach me more of the Truth of who I am.  What if I listen more deeply, and let God be God in any and all manifestations before me?  Might then I glimpse the beauty and peace of the Eternal in the Present moment?

“The trees and rocks will teach you that which you cannot hear from masters.”

~ St. Bernard of Clairvaux

For many seekers, contemplating Nature opens the door to a mystical life of untold beauty and spiritual bounty. What secrets might we learn in the contemplation of Nature?  What comfort might we find in its embrace?  Across traditions spiritual aspirants are encouraged to have faith in God’s love and grace.  Yet, in my life there are times when practical faith continues to elude me.  I suspect I’m not alone.  And if I take St. Bernard’s statement literally and look to nature as one of God’s teachers, I can contemplate its teaching and deepen my experience of faith.

For a moment today,  I gazed at a tree and considered how its roots reach deep into the dark rich earth.  I reflected on how the earth so generously provides a steady flow of nutrients and minerals so that the tree may continue to grow, reaching towards the sun.  All the while, the sun provides needed rays of light for growth.  And the sky opens itself to rain on the tree, giving it precious water.

Then I imagined myself as a tree with roots growing from my tailbone and feet.  I imagined the roots reaching through the floor beneath me and carving their way through concrete obstacles to reach the rich dark earth.  I imagined feeling the steady flow of the earth’s abundant strength and energy flowing into me and mingling with ‘my’ energy.

I then imagined a spinning orb of light blazing with the light of the sun, shining on me and through me, mingling with the energy of the earth, giving me everything that I need.  Faith.  From such a vantage point, might you too develop the faith of a tree, the confidence of its faith in the earth and the sun?  Recognizing the pure beauty of a tree’s simple faith, what else might the tree teach you and me?

What a sublime practice faith can become, if I remember to continually reminding myself, this too is God.  This too is God!  This too is God!  The teaching then comes alive and joy becomes mine for I can never be separate from God.  No matter what happens, no matter where I am, no matter who I’m with, I’m never without God, the God of my understanding.

Then the play continues.  My ego captures my attention with the pulls of attraction and aversion, and I swirl in the belief that I am separate.  I find myself gravitating towards a particular experience while avoiding another.  When I can’t avoid a circumstance that I would like very much to avoid, when I get caught up in how I would prefer things to be different, therein lies an invitation.

There, right there, is the invitation to loosen my grip on my ego and reach for Truth.  Instead, more often than I would like, I let myself get caught in the throes of the ego and I lose my equanimity, my sublime understanding that indeed I can never be separate from my Lord.

All this because I deny the Presence of the Lord, hidden in the fabric of the present moment.  What a game of Hide and Seek!  Fortunately, I can always begin again and remember this ‘too is God.’  Fortunately, my soul continues to yearn for the Truth and God hears my call.  The wind blows.  A leaf falls and my attention rests on a tree.