Said a bit differently

I am really enjoying Michael Barnett’s teaching.  It’s what he calls “resonance based.”

Here he addresses the impotence of words and the importance of the meditative space.
It ties in nicely, from a different angle and different expression, with what I getting at in Dumb Saints.
Barnett’s moving meditations appear very similar to what my Taoist practice looks like.
That’s probably why I find such resonance.

I’m coming to appreciate three kinds of approaches:

awareness based teaching  (Advaita)
emptiness teachings (Buddhism)
resonance teachings  (Taoism, energy movement)

This Interested Me... (aka no title today)

Buddha At the Gas Pump had an interesting interview with a fellow by the name of Jan Esman. Rather than address the points in it, I went to Jan’s website and clipped a bit of his teaching. I feel like things for me are taking a new direction and this may be a good way to kind of shift the discussion gradually.

I hope you have the time to listen to Jan’s story. If not, maybe you can read on:

Pure is-ness is prior to I AM. In pure is-ness, there is no "I" that "IS", hence no I AM.
I AM is a gross state that does resemble the absolute state of pure being, but it has a subtle ignorance at its core…
Self-remembrance [meaning inquiry or resting as awareness?] leads to the I AM state, and no further.
Once fairly established in the I AM-ness, your awareness can fold back in on itself and short circuit, so to speak.
But the step from I AM to pure being is best taken by grace and Shakti.
It is so easy to get stuck in I AM and think you have reached the goal…

In I AM ness you are a witness to everything exterior including all levels of the mind and ego, except I-ness. But the final wipe out of ignorance has not taken place, there is still an I that believes it IS and it claims to be the Self, but it is not.
In basic Self-realization, this sense goes away also and there is just serene void.
Self-realization is prior to soul.
Soul-realization is realizing one's I AM-ness…

Last year I asked Adya about being stuck in the witness. He said he couldn’t tell me how to do it, but I had to learn to witness from the heart and not the mind. I had no idea even what “witnessing from the heart” might mean. A heart does not observe, a heart dives in and unifies. Although, yes, a heart can look upon with love. And, something seemed to soften. The gap began to close, or so I recollect. Still, despite a feeling of emptiness, I still remain with ego.
I also seem to have lost the interest or ability even to practice self inquiry, resting as awareness, seeing into no-self:  all the things I have been doing.  No more doing!  I have flung myself off some cliff.
I want to just drop the thinking and trying, and simply do. 
I want to drop deep and let the energies I've cultivated through my Taoist practice and working with Evie (helping her with her cancer)... I want to just drop into That.  Even, I would say, even something, the sweetness, beyond all Those.

Access to I AM is not access to the Self.
It is access to "a higher self", but not The Self.
You can use I AM as a doorway, but it is easy to get stuck there…
I AM is thick as a brick, so to speak. It is really a kind of voidish, subtle self without form.
Personality can observe. When I AM and personality get mixed, you have ego.
I AM wants to be something, so mind offers its dubious services. This is the birthplace of personality.

Access to “a higher self” that is still not what I’d call The Self seems to be the essence of my Taoist teaching. I have considered this a shortcoming, and yet I have enjoyed and benefited immensely from the practice. In fact, I’d even say, “It has been necessary.”

Access to Self rather than I AM is best achieved by "riding" on a surge of Shakti since Shakti is the Self. This usually requires shaktipat (kundalini-awakening). If you, however, can experience awareness as pure being-energy and let awareness become fully aware of itself, then you can momentarily snap out of I AM-ness and into pure being, or is-ness.

I am wondering if spontaneous qigong and channeling are another means to “riding on a surge of Shakti.” It seems to be the way I am naturally progressing.

Try the shakti-breathing… Here it is:
1.Breathe in to the count of three. Sense energy rising up the spine to the brain.
2.Hold your breath to the count of three. Sense energy radiating from the brain in all directions.
3.Breathe out to the count of three. Sense energy radiating from the brain in all directions. (or from the entire body).
Repeat.
It is important to find a nice and relaxed tempo so you can keep at it uninterrupted for 45 minutes. If bliss comes or shakti fills your body with love, just surrender to it and merge.

This doesn’t seem that far removed from what I was recently telling my friend Mary to try, though it was something I just made up as I saw the truth in it.
Mary can rest in a solid quiet meditation. But its very solidness has becomes a restricted solidity that she’d like to grow/go beyond.
“To go higher you must go deeper,” my Taoist teacher says.
I saw a rock dropped into a glass of water. As the rock settles, notice how the water rises, maybe even overflows. Mary needs to do this.
How?
Breath out, exhale through the eyes.
Feel the breath, the energy and light resting in the belly on the inhalation and then direct that out through the eyes, exhale.
I told her about Annie – consciousness streams out through our eyes. Practice that consciously.

How did I know this? I was channeling and could see and feel it and even facilitate the flow by moving my hand along her torso. My Taoist practice seems to be providing access to a gentle Shaktipat ability.
It’s not the “direct path” of the neo-advaitist, but it seems to be “my path.”

P.S.   In the BatGap interview, near the very end, Jan says:
Kundalini is not a restricted energy within the body-mind, astral system, where ever... it is a condensation of the Self, like a contraction. And as such, it contains the essence of your ignornace.

These words hit me like the beauty of a poem. I understand yet for a moment cannot explain. There were only tears.  True Self becomes our ignorance, even as it moves to set us free.  My God, the beauty!

Shamanic Happenings

Wisp, Karen Cleveland

Wisp is a forest that requests a reconsideration of the human relationship to nature and… threads the supernatural through the everyday.

Karen Cleveland

Last night I went to see my friend, Karen’s, exhibition for her MFA. It astounded me. She had created a forest that she then invited you to enter. You could hear the wind, as well as tree frogs. Within a stump you discovered a gently throbbing light. You bumped onto branches and webs of lace. You stood before a tree, the bark bursting into a dozen pieces, even as it defined an internal space of emptiness. It was stitched together with threads of gold and red and buffalo gut.

But what moved me most was the painting of Leaf Gather.
Here was the benevolent cousin to a beast I had met just the previous night.
I had pulled him out of Evie as we did “energetic bodywork.”
He was a seven foot tall roaring, red-eyed, fanged embodiment of her disease: a tangle of grief and fear and rage, as well as chemicals and cancer.
I hadn’t expected to pull him out. But there he was.
I was stunned to then see his sweet cousin in Karen’s painting.
But, there he was.

Leaf Gather, Karen Cleveland

No one told me when I started my Taoist practice that it was actually shamanic.
They only spoke of energy.
Well, surprise. Energy can take on consciousness and form.
Think of humans. Think of devas. Think of the internal beasts that haunt us.

For awhile, back in the 70’s after I had my first shift in consciousness, I could see what I called angels. There was a “devotion angel” floating near the ceiling of the cathedral I attended. There was a “birth angel” cradling my sister-in-law as she gave birth to Evie’s brother.

At the time, I had no conceptual framework for such perceptions and thus adopted what I read in the Findhorn Garden:

By the springtime of our second year at Findhorn, the Landscape Angel told us that our garden was becoming more unitied and whole, and that as this took place, an angelic being, a sort of guardian angel for our area, was forming.
I believe that any unit, whether it be a farm or a community, a couple or a nation, has an overlighting presence that in some way embodies the various levels of energy used within that unit.
The Angel of Findhorn is a composite being, “born” from the substance of our thoughts and ideals, the radiations of the land, and the energies of the higher selves of not only humans working on the land but of all the animals and plants there…
Dorothy Maclean, The Findhorn Garden

This compositeness is shown so well in Karen’s image.
And just as angels can be born, so can beasts.
These dark cousins can arise from the energy of our thoughts and fears of disease, the drugs used to combat and kill, and the energy of cells that run amok.

Now, a strict non-dual stance might argue, “All that is vacuous and empty. See that!”
But, practically and usually, what we first notice is the physical.
And if we’re lucky, we can see a bit more subtly into the level of energy.
So lets start there.

And guess what? It all works out.
After I pulled the beast from Eve, it was really obvious that he/it then filled my body.
I stood and took a bow, asking of my Teacher, Wong Loh Sin See, “Please Teacher help this to leave my body.”
Spontaneously, I started whirling qigong style, roaring with the beast’s roar. And after a minute or so I noticed that the beast had broken into packets, leaves, of energy.
That’s when the words of Scott Kiloby came to mind.
And the rest was just like this:

What’s happening in the body? …
Let the pure raw emotion just fill your body, just fill the space of awareness.
Let it just absolutely overwhelm you, the feeling itself without any label on it so it’s not fear overwhelming you.
It’s the pure energy, the vibration filling up the air, filling up the space of the body. And there’s no desire for it to go away. We’re not even witnessing it…without any label… the emotion has nowhere to go but to simply dissipate or change itself into awareness.
Kilobit, Painful Emotions ~ minutes 3:45 – 7:30 (scroll down page)

Curiously, and of course, this sounds to me simply the reverse of the process of creation that Dorothy Maclean explained.

An Inquiry

half bath inverted
Originally uploaded by Seeking Tao

In a couple of weeks, I am going to see my Taoist Teacher, Wong Loh Sin See.
It’s been a year since I was last with the Teacher, so I was soaking in my morning tub thinking about what I hoped to gain from the coming workshop.
Just after I had satisfactorily clarified my intentions, I heard the Teacher’s voice:
“Patty, what is enlightenment?”

I thought a moment before replying, realizing he had touched a nerve.
“I could give you a definition, an explanation in words.
“But, I don’t know that I know …
what enlightenment feels like to be lived or embodied.”

At least, that was how I was going to finish my sentence.
Instead, I heard what I had just said:

“I don’t know that I know”

This revelation stopped me cold.
Stunned into silence:
I know!

It’s just life as I live it every day.
That’s how it feels.
It’s that simple.

By then, I had melted into tears.
And immediately the mind and commentary kicked in.
“Insights like this are supposed to be met with laughter not tears.”
And I was OK with the “incorrect response,”
as I zipped right on to the next thought, “Now! Can you just let it be?”

… No...
Embodiment can always go deeper.
Going deeper, becoming clearer, gentler, softer – those had been my intentions for the workshop.
What will being clearer be like?

That’s what I don’t know.
That's the mystery and delight of the next moment.

We were both enlightened in the most profound and deep way; we were both fulfilled.
And yet there was [something] that had not risen to the surface to be met.
And that's what had to be seen…
I had to be willing to discover how I was and what deals I had made with myself to overlook this.
And so, it's endless. And vigilance is necessary until the last breath…
Gangaji, Awakening is Endless 

Fabric of the Univerise

Fabric of the Univerise, detail
Originally uploaded by Seeking Tao

She wanted to ask him if horses understood the wind.
His glass eyes looked at nothing. His mane was stiff, glued by the knacker to sit perfectly smooth in wind and stillness. She knew he was gone, that what she heard was only an echo.

But that echo reminded her how to listen deeper than her bones, to listen for what no one else heard.
And as the days passed, and she learned how to listen, when the wind touched her skin she began to hear much more than just her name.
The Goose Girl, by Shannon Hale

Those were the words I opened to in the book. Just like that, in the library last Saturday. I’d loved the cover art, and so, judging by the cover, had taken up the book.
Something transformed me as I read. Silence pervaded everything.
I sat there for some moments simply trembling. Looking about the room. Hand stroking the pages of the book.
What was That?
What had these words done to me?

I have read other words this week – emails that have also stayed with me.
Like these words from a young woman I have never met, but with whom I correspond:

I woke up an hour after I'd gone to sleep last night and I didn't know who or what or where I was, or if I was dreaming or awake.
I just was.
It was the most vivid and scary thing, and then I sort of settled back into my story.

I'm not sure how to feel about it but I know I couldn't understand it in any way until I came back to myself.
I do know that earlier in the day I had sort of made a statement to the effect I may not be cut out for any great wonderful Buddha-like experience of enlightenment, and realizing I could just accept that…

Or these words are from a dear friend, a mother mourning her son on her own birthday:

Peter brought me flowers and a composter
(I tried a “pile” before and mostly we got rats).
I have been asking Charlie to “come to me” in meditation and at bedtime for several days now.
Last night I had a convoluted dream in which he called me on a cell phone that I couldn’t figure out in time to pick up…
He sang a few bars of happy birthday. It makes me weepy now.

Simply little snippets: a retelling of the Brothers Grimm, my friends just checking in.
In the fairy tale the young princess will one day learn the language of the wind.
As for my friends, they don’t seem that different to me. Our stories will unfold.

On the way to work today, proceeding at a crawl, at some point I had the thought,
“I am lost in traffic.”
But, I had accepted my fate and so I was at peace.
Except, perhaps, for the fact I could not find a single station that I liked on the radio.
I kept trying a new button, cycling through all six selections until I switched to an entirely new “page.”

There I found Eye in the Sky. And was delighted.
Alan Parsons Project, 1982, my original hieroglyphic calligraphy.
I turned up the volume.
Was the instrumental intro particularly long?
It was beautiful, and the words- the words were once my anthem.

I am the eye in the sky
Looking at you
I can read your mind
I am the maker of rules
Dealing with fools
I can cheat you blind…

Bitter days. Was I really once like that?
Now it seems just another love song.
Is it not about God after all? But those words…
“I am the eye in the sky…”

I am lost in traffic going nowhere fast, singing
"I am the eye in the sky."
I think of the painting I did this past weekend, “Fabric of the Universe.”
I think of the wind. What language might it speak?
I think of what my teacher told us last time I was with him:
“Enjoy the little things. Learn to enjoy and notice little things.”

And so I look. I turn my head.

It’s all there: grain of sand, or in the little green sprouts opening by the roadside.
There is a fabric to this Universe – we are connected.
Fairy tales, Love stories, of course the rats are in the compost.
We are dear fools dealing with it.
Debris is everywhere.
The traffic all a snarl as power crews are called out to clean up.
It seems the wind has spoken:
“Slow down, the Light will come back on.”

Past, Present, Future - Nothing

Sleeping Buddha
Originally uploaded by Seeking Tao

The first of what was to be a series of occurrences took place. I can’t say what it was.
I didn’t seem to be present for it, yet there was no interruption of normal bodily awareness as far as I know--no break in the visual stream reporting my surroundings, for instance.
Coming out of it I discovered I was weeping. A great quiet followed.
This pattern repeated maybe eight or ten times over the next several hours.
Between episodes I took the following notes…

I am the stillpoint of Now at the center of the universe, the portal through which Nothing becomes Everything. This is happening here, now, where I sit--at the moment, in the seat of an airplane.
Bart Marshall, on his awakening

A couple weeks ago, I was in the lab working at my bench.
I was following a protocol, following the points as usual, when I set down all accoutrements, turned, and left the room.
I simply acted.
There was not the slightest thought regarding leaving mid-experiment.

I walked across the hall to our other lab and starting looking through a stack of old X-ray films we keep on hand to use as dark backgrounds.
I went through the films until I came to one which was encrusted with white crystals outlining the bottom of dishes and stoppers that had sat upon it.
I held the film up in front of me, eyeing it with pleasure.

“Oh, this is nice! Take this home and make some art!”
It seems the pleasure also brought back thinking.
And then I jumped.

“What the hell are you doing? You’re in the middle of an experiment!”
I scuttled back to my bench and tried to reorient myself.
What had happened?

Like Bart Marshall – I had retained complete awareness of my surroundings and body. At no moment had I felt the least bit strange or spacey.
I tried to recall exactly how the whole episode had unfolded.
To my surprise I discovered the memory of a momentary only thoughtless, present of body doing and sensory awareness.

I started laughing because I immediately realized that a spiritual practice focused on remaining in the present, the Now, made absolutely no sense.
It was based on the premises that we continually wander off into the Past or Future.
It was based on the premise that mindfully, we must drag attention back to the Present.
And I had just seen very clearly – there is no such thing as past or future.
There is only, Only, the Present, Now.
This insight felt very strange and somewhat silly.
It also rattled me a bit.

Now,
fast forward to the future.
This past weekend,
my Teacher came for a workshop.
On Day Two, seemingly out of no where he asked, “Patty, there is Past, Present, Future. Is this correct?”
Shocked, I began my answer uncomfortably, “I am not sure that’s true.”
Some people laughed, but I was dead serious. I may have started crying.
It went downhill from there.

Part of me wanted to stubbornly hold to what my vision had shown me.
Part of me also clearly understands the coordinate system we use every day.
From which level did he want me to answer?
Well, I don’t think it really matters.

The Teacher’s purpose was to simply make me sweat.
He knew just where my button was and he wasn’t letting up.
“There’s past, present, future…” his hands blocked them out in space making it all so obvious. What could be the problem?
And I kept refusing to give an answer that felt like kowtowing to… to what?
My mind went into meltdown.

Teacher then changed the question just a bit.
“Past, Present, Future and then beyond the future. What is there? What’s beyond the future.”

All I could see was Nothing. A Nothingness that surrounds and cradles the Present and any past or future you care to create in your mind.
I felt my stubbornness smash into my mind and my emotions rage.
Something in me didn’t want to admit to Nothingness in public.
I was covered in sweat. My heart was breaking. My mind screaming. My intellect totally confused.
I responded, angry now,
“I don’t understand the question. What does that question mean?”

Teacher ignored me and looked to the far back of the room. He asked Vicky,
“What is beyond the future?”
Without a moment’s hesitation I heard her say, “Nothing.”
I was utterly amazed, flooded with relief. What a miracle. Someone understood.

Teacher said, “Nothing! How did you come up with that?”
Vicky laughed, “Patty mentioned it at lunch.”
Busted! Busted! (do click on this link)

That night I tried to make sense of this exercise.
I decided Teacher was just clarifying to me how very stuck I am.
I cannot really tell the difference between my beliefs and direct experience.
One is of the mind and the other of the senses.
Or at least, that is how I’ve always conceived of the difference.
The description of a strawberry is not the same as eating the berry.
I am clear on that.

But, now I’m beginning to wonder if in that initial arising from the Nothing, perhaps thought and object are less differentiated.
Is this the source of my confusion?
Is this why I cannot tell the difference?
Or has my ego simply found another way to wrestle, another way to hang an ornament onto the Christmas tree of Nothingness – and so sustain my false existence?

I needed to just let go of the wrestling. Thinking gets me no where these days.
Thinking seems almost counter to what my brain wants and needs to do.
Simplify. Stop. Don’t think.
Be still.

These words from Bart Marshall’s translation of the Faith-Mind Sutra helped bring me back to center.

When like and dislike are absent, the Real is obvious and clear
Make the slightest distinction, however,
And it appears as heaven and earth…

Seeing appearances as real, you miss the Source.
Seeing appearances as Void, you miss the show.

I could get off the marry-go-round of suffering by either jumping off, or by sitting in the quiet center point.
So much huffy-puff is just a trick to keep the Nothing somewhat more at bay.
For one thing has become quiet clear:
Suffering (no matter how sincere) is always just a bit enjoyable because it helps the ego to keep going. And ego is a verb.

Not long after this, I received a link from a virtual friend, Rebecca. She had also brought Bart Marshall to my attention. Now, these words of a fellow by the name of Scott Kiloby rang true:

…after a while, the non-dual ideas just become more conditioning.
…For those who have been seeking for a while … my suggestion is to use Byron Katie’s “The Work” …[to] question every non-dual teaching, book, and website you can find… until nothing is left but emptiness…

Whenever a teacher says, “It’s all One,” ask “Is it absolutely true?”
…rest into the silence that is left when all these non-dual pointers are seen to be ultimately empty…
A thought cannot see what is.
Thoughts are memories.
Interpretations.
Never confuse the interpretation of what is with what actually is.
Scott Kiloby, under his writing, entitled, Try This.

Yes. Ultimately, there is emptiness.
At times, I find it rather shocking.
Shock and pitching a fit is how I pull back into what is familiar.

I’m back on the merry-go-round... but, this time round enjoying the ride.
Not to worry... The Nothing will have Its way in Its own good time.

Form and the Formless

Feather in water
Originally uploaded by Seeking Tao

I am having a quiet day at work. It seems no one else bothered to show up or even call.
My experiment is in the centrifuge and I have a moment free to polish up what I’d planned for my next entry here.
Some notes are in a spiral notebook which I’ve pulled out of my bag to reference.

It’s just this notebook I picked up before I went to the Garrison Retreat. It seemed to have some empty pages. I didn’t know, or care, what else was in there.

So, I was flipping through the pages just now when my eyes happened upon what follows.
I’m interjecting it here since it comes so closely on the heels of Eddie's passing.
Also, I spent last weekend with my Taoist teacher, Wong Loh Sin See, and these words fit with that experience also.

The Teacher and I hadn’t seen or spoken to each other for six months, yet he opened the workshop with these words, “Patty, life and death, what is the difference?”
The question took me by surprise, but after some reflection, I replied, “A form is either here or gone.”
He asked me to say more, and our whole exchange seemed an exercise to re-enforcing a moment I’d experienced with Eddie.
As I'd sat with him, I noticed that the Silence within me was also within Eddie. And, I knew that Silence would continue even after Eddie’s form was gone.

Apparently, The Teacher wanted me to see this once again.
And apparently, The Teacher also wanted to show me that there is a formless Consciousness “out there” that personally listens in upon my thoughts and musings. (He does that every workshop.)

So, this passage in the notebook has caught my eye.
I don’t remember ever writing any of this down.
It begins with a quote. My guess is that this is Eckhart Tolle speaking:

Death means a form is dissolving.
It dissolves and then what’s left is formless Consciousness…

When you observe how your breath moves out,
the end of that breath is also a little death,
and there is a moment of stillness…

Any ending is helpful in that way.
Because any ending is the end of a form
and it is always some kind of death.

When you accept it fully, it is an opening
into the formless…
And you want to hold onto the form,
(a recipe for unhappiness)
not realizing that the very reason why this [moment] is meaningful
is that it takes you beyond form.

So the more you welcome all the endings in your life,
“Good-bye! Ah, a form is going,”
the more formlessness there is in life.

The egoic entity works the opposite way.
It hates this. It thinks, “Oh, no! I want to keep this.”
But, it’s going, going, going. Everything.
If you are old enough and can see the death of this physical form approaching
that can be very beautiful too…
Let it push you into being present.

Just that.

I can remember that the last few years of my father’s life
he grew quieter and quieter at family functions.
I see him seated there at the head of our table.
Watching, smiling, sometimes somewhere else, and then back to offer a brief comment,
he was no longer the central presence, no longer “The Rock,” as we had called him.

I got a call from Peggy last night. She was in New York having just spent a one-day Thanksgiving upstate visiting her mother.
I could feel the tears brimming in her eyes as she described,
“Ninety-one. Her health is good. They do all these things… but, she’s turned inside.”
I said, “The actress no longer speaks to the back of the room.”
“No.”
Nor does she pay her children all that much attention.
But, she has discovered Nature.
Now, she’ll stop to look closely at a bud and comment to her daughter, “I never knew!”

But, we all know, somewhere deep inside.
We know about the formless and the form, and the play between the two.

It’s just that
Being awake requires such a light touch.
Being awake requires letting the treasured dissolve away.

Clown Buddha

Clown Buddha
Originally uploaded by Seeking Tao

Right now you and I wear a mask, the clown costume.
That is our persona, our personality structures, and all the rest.
And the real question, spiritually speaking, is
"What is peering through?"
Adyashanti

These past two weekends I have attended workshops with my Taoist Teacher, Wong Loh Sin See.
Each workshop has reminded me of Adyashanti’s teaching about the Clown Buddha,
a small drawing that he carries with him to all the retreats he leads.

Fortunately, I have found a copy of the Clown online, so I can share it with you here.
Adya explains the import of the image this way in The Five Truths:

A Zen guy said a great thing once about the Truth,
“It’s no more for being manifest as Buddha and It’s no less for being manifest as a human.” …

The Buddha is meditating -
and that Clown (that’s you and me by the way) that’s about as good as we ever get.
And it sees it’s true reflection that’s the Buddha Nature, the Pure Formless.
And that’s what we see in the Realization,
“Oh, my God, I am what I was chasing. I am the Buddha.”

But, just as important as this realization is this [other] realization.
‘Cause the Buddha Nature in you, when it wakes up,
What is it looking at? …
Buddha Nature is looking at the Clown…
And so Buddha Nature gets to have an opportunity to have a realization himself…
And the more deeply that [realization] dawns, you feel a seamlessness.

It’s not a sense of personal human perfection,
because what is that after all except for how someone defines it…
And even though in one sense there’s this beautiful pristine eternal gaze, inside…
there’s a seamlessness right into this Clown-like Nature: me-ness where there is no real me.

Another telling of the Cosmic Joke!
And, from where I sit, such very hopeful news.
I take it as an invitation to be kinder and more loving to ourselves.
Another invitation to Make Peace, Make Peace.

My last blog, about John O’Donohue, was inspired by a program called Speaking of Faith.
They used Irish music to create mood and deliver message.
One song in particular, On Taobh Tuathail Amach, seemed positively African in its wild drumming.
But, it was Irish and I didn’t understand a single syllable of the Gaelic.

This morning I found a translation.
On Taobh Tuathail Amach means, “From the Inside Out.”
Oh, what perfect timing!
Just as Buddha Nature may be surprised to see a Clown,
so the words of On Taobh Tauthail Amach surprised me.
The music has such a rambunctiousness, but the song is about making peace.
And the words seem so apropos this lesson of the Clown Buddha,

It starts almost with an invocation:
From the inside out
I don't want to fight again
From the inside out

(Then here’s the part I love)

I have fought with myself
Fought with God
Fought with my life
Fought with herself
Fought with my senses
Fought with himself
Fought so often
That I frightened myself

Don't make me fight again
It does me no good
Don't make me fight again
I don't want to misguide my soul…

You can hear the entire song on YouTube.
Or, visit Speaking of Faith (this seems a softer version, but you have to search a bit).

Take One Step

Day Off: Day Trip: Chaouen, Morocco
Originally uploaded by shadowplay

My teacher, Wong Loh Sin See, had us all stand-up, take a bow and close our eyes.
After a moment he said, “Now, take one step backwards.”
Silently, we did.
After a bit he said, “Now, take one step backwards.”
And again, we did.
As I stood there eyes closed, simply waiting, wondering what in the world he was doing, I began to notice I didn’t feel so well.
It was hard to hold my head up. I felt weak.
I felt unsettled.
Unhappy.

“Now, take one step backwards.”
One more step and from the muffled crying I began to hear around me, I suspected that I wasn’t the only person having difficulty.
This was no simple break in concentration or centeredness as I had first suspected,
this was tapping Misery.

Finally, the Teacher said, “Take one step forward.”
Oh! What relief in that simple step.
Things began to quiet down. My strength began to return.
“Take one step forward.”
How very strange this was! I felt light. Happiness was welling up.
The Teacher had us take one final step, and just as joy began to surface he had us bow and take our seats.

We were all fairly stunned. We looked about surreptitiously checking other faces.
Everyone had had pretty much the same experience.
Discomfort had swept over us and then reversed into happiness.

The Teacher explained that as we go forward in life we grow in consciousness. Happiness spontaneously increases.
If we were to go back to our former lives, our former selves, we would be amazed by the misery we’d find.
Through spiritual cultivation our norms change.
Even if we don’t appreciate the progress that we’ve made, if given a chance to actually travel back in time, we would feel the difference.
The Teacher had just provided us that opportunity.

I tell this story by way of an apology.
I have had it in mind to write about Eckhart Tolle’s concept of the pain-body.
I have had it in mind to use events (STORIES!?) from my own life.
But, I find the mere intention has awakened pain in an almost cellular manner.

The exercise in taking a single step should serve as something of a warning.
The pain-body is a creation from the past that we carry to this day.
And if we travel back in time to probe the pain-body at its roots, I do believe our pain is doubled.

Yet ultimately, the pain-body is about the struggle to embody an awakened consciousness.
So, I feel compelled to try my hand at explaining what I’ve seen.

Make Peace, Make Peace

Bruegel's "Mad Meg"
Originally uploaded by Seeking Tao

One of my favorite ways to define what I consider real freedom or real liberation is: you no longer have an argument with yourself,
you no longer have an argument with God,
you no longer have an argument with others,
you no longer have an argument with Life.
Adyashanti

I went to a workshop this weekend with my Teacher, Wong Loh Sin See.
During one of our meditations I had a vision of my heart. This painting by Bruegel, that I’ve posted, gives a good feel for what I saw and experienced.
My chest was filled with angry, little, tormenting gods.
Bruegel has them as demons, but it was clear to me that they were gods, stirring up quiet a fuss in my heart chakra. Set this painting into frienzied motion and that is my recollection. Curiously, I didn't find it the nightmare you might imagine. It was more a curiosity.

Gods of the heart chakra?
I have heard of sounds and colors and mandalas specific to each chakra, but never had I heard about specific gods.
So, this was interesting. Still, I probably wouldn't have mentioned it, if our discussion hadn't gotten into "energy." This whole macabre scene seemed to be a reflection of my subtle energies.
Of greater significance seemed to be the message that now seemed to be coming up,
“The gods are angry and need to be appeased.”

“Appease the gods!” Could this be true?

I asked Leong about this, forming my question along these lines:
I understand that our inner energies sometimes assume the form of animals.
A lion has been particularly helpful to me. This “lower higher self provides” a wild, fierce energy and strength when there is a need.

Now, it seemed that on a little higher level, there are these minor gods… but their activities seemed much less beneficial. Black arms arm whirling in all directions, contorted figures, baroquely elaborated in the darkness of a bloody underworld - these guys are on the rampage.
This cannot be all that good.

It reminded me that on most days recently I have had a fair amount of chest pain.
Is this why my blood pressure has not responded to three months of medications and now the meds feel like they're poisoning my system?
Is this why there’s an aneurysm ballooning out the top of my aorta?

If there are gods within that sometimes need appeasing, now may be the time.
But, could this be so? Such a belief is not really that much a part of my usual mindset.

Leong gave a long answer and he also gave a short.
The words that cut right to the bottom line were simple:
“It’s not appease... it is Make Peace.”

Yes, those were the Teacher’s words to me when I initiated with him,
“Make peace. Make peace.”
How many times have I replayed those words?
At the time, they were directed towards the dissolution of my twenty-year partnership.
Today, they pointed deep inside, so much more profoundly as to constitute a whole new lesson.

Sunday morning dawned and the image of those tormenting gods was still fresh in my mind.
Who are they?
With whom am I to make peace?
Of course it is my self.
But, in such new territory for my soul the self-image still seems as Other to me.
I wanted names and more specifics.

So, I Googled, quickly finding good faxsmilies online,
crowded upon on the façade of the Hindu temple in Bangkok,
Wat Phra Si Maha Uma Dev.

Parvati, the consort of Shiva, covers the temple and so I started reading about her.
Generally considered a benign goddess of Nature, she also has some fearful aspects namely, Durga, Kali, and the Mahavidyas.

"Durga" echoed in my head along with one word, “Yes!”
I clicked the link to her.
Durga is Parvati’s fighting form, a warrior with 10 arms riding upon lion or a tiger, carrying weapons and assuming mudras.
In short, she’s not so foreign to my being after all.
Hadn’t I begun with lion energy and realizing the gods were above (or "riding") that? And wasn’t this all about the battle being waged within my heart chakra and chest?

I moved on to Kali.

Click.
Knowing what I would find since Kali has visited me for years and her energy is no stranger.
She has this wagging, curling tongue that is a dead give away of when she comes to call.
The first time I assumed her fierce posture with my own tongue curling out, I was so relieved that tradition has us meditating with eyes closed. I didn’t care to see nor to have any witnesses from my meditation group.
She is a black and devilish being and yet, a goddess. (How bad can that be? - Well, there is that wicked tongue...)

Instantly, I was back to the TEE procedure, my benumbed tongue choking my throat (Exsanguinate).
Oh! That must have pissed her off.
I resolved to take a bow to myself and her next time the doctors have to take a look.
It seemed the respect due oneself and goddess, as basic as the Inuit hunter’s bowing to the animals they hunt. (Hadn't I just written how they'd reduced me to an animal? Exsangunate!)
Still, doctors have to do what they must do, and perhaps next time I can make the process less a sacrilege by first paying my respects.

It’s written that:
Once, during their numerous love games, things got out of hand between Shiva and Parvati. What started out in jest turned into a serious matter with an incensed Shiva threatening to leave. Left with no choice, Parvati multiplied herself into ten different forms, the Ten Mahavidyas, one to block each of the ten directions, thus preventing her consort’s escape. (Am I trying to escape?)

But, Ten!
Perhaps that explains all the crowding that I saw, the busyness of Bruegel.
It certainly explains the carnage.
The Ten Mahavidyas cover the whole range of feminine divinity with a heavy nod to the horrific:
Chinnamasta - the Goddess who cuts off her Own Head (or ruptures her aorta?)
Bhairavi - the Goddess of Decay
Dhumawati - the Goddess who widows Herself
Bagalamukhi - the Goddess who seizes the Tongue (geeze, another one with tongue issues!)
Matangi - the Goddess who Loves Pollution (or is that modern medication?)
Kali - the Eternal Night

But, I am not too dismayed.
“Mahavidya” comes from maha (great) and vidya (knowledge, revelation)
and each form made Shiva realize an essential truth.

So, I will think on all of this and see if I can find a way to
“Make Peace. Make Peace.”

To these who are my self,
Namaste, I bow down.