the plant.

 

"every breath we take can be filled with peace, joy and serenity." thich nhath hanh.

on a recent morning i arose from a long meditation and absentmindedly proceeded to spray one of my house-plants liberally with lysol. realizing what i’d just done, i proceeded to give it a good soaking to wash away the lysol. then i proceeded to watch helplessly as the plant proceeded to drop its leaves. i killed my plant. i guess i poisoned the thing then drowned it. 

i tried to blame the pandemic of course. we can blame so much on the pandemic these days. after all, the lysol spray-bottle wouldn’t have been sitting right beside the water spray-bottle if it weren’t for that. the bottom line is that my plant died and i didn’t feel good about it. living alone one begins to relate to ones plants a bit... differently. sometimes i walk in the door and say hello to each plant ceremoniously. now there’s an empty space by the window.

the pandemic has created more loneliness for folks. loneliness was always there, of course, only we normally cover that up so well with relationships, but also with the help of devices, vices and vice versa. we don’t want to be lonely, only we don’t want to be dependent either. so meditation in that regard becomes an act of defiance.

little by little we learn to appreciate our own breath, our own thoughts and feelings, our very existence. the breath is a bridge between a part of us that feels alone and a part that’s forever united with existence itself. in fact, ultimately the meditation is euphoric: the feeling is every bit like being unexpectedly reunited with ones beloved. 

the house-plants are vibrating with life, the sun’s out, birds are nibbling suet, someone’s walking by with her dog and unity consciousness is calling.

‘i was lonely until i glued a coffee cup on top of my car. now everyone waves at me.’ anonymous.

the cycling-high.

it may be dangerously indelicate and fabulously incorrect politically for me to say that they all look alike. but i honestly do often have a hard time differentiating one from another. i’m not really against spandex-wearing bikers. i’m just sayin they tend to look alike.

spandex people should be allowed to vote, of course. as far as i’m concerned, they have every right to equal pay for equal work, should even be allowed to marry each other. i’m not even against them marrying non-spandex people. they can produce many beautiful mixed-spandex-non-spandex babies, and that’d be fine with me. you love who you love. i am the least prejudiced person in this room. 

in fact, two of my best friends are spandex people. i wouldn’t want them to marry my sister, but that’s mostly because she’s dead. it’d be weird, especially if they both married her. but i’d have no problem with them marrying each other. it simply occurred to me today, as i rode my bike in the park and a few whizzed by, that they all look the same. 

i’m obviously not a spandex-wearing personage, and i’ll never be in that kind of shape. i’m in a different kind of shape. wearing flannel earlier this morning, i felt as though i could meditate forever. and after shooting a few basketballs around in my driveway i sat again, and had that same sense. in fact, i got a ‘cycling-high’ before cycling. 

later on, i had to walk my bike up a big hill as somebody or something flew by and simultaneously a lovely lady got off her bike beside me. "my partner’s an animal," she said smiling over at me. to which i responded: "i’m sure your kids will be lovely." she looked at me strangely, jumped back on and rode quickly away, probably trying to impress me. but, it occurred to me how remarkable it was that she and her animal could look so similar while both wore spandex. 

i’m not sure what necessary part the spandex plays in cyclists’ rush toward their desired spike in neuro-chemicals. only i wonder what they’ll do when their cycling days are done. could they, would they access that innate dopamine experience without spandex? i wondered about that while reclining in the back of my van after my ride. 

and at the same time i noticed out the window that same lovely lady and her partner ride up to their bmw. they took their helmets off, kissed, and i couldn’t help but notice, as i craned my neck, the way she grabbed his ass. i’d always assumed it’d be dangerous to grab the rump of an animal like that, but it did give me yet another ‘cycling-high.’

 

i’ll be with you in a minute.

returning an item to canadian tire today was something of an occassion for me. it was an opportunity to see and maybe even speak with one or two humans. i would go so far as to say i was excited. i’d hardly had humanoid contact since last time i was at that same store.

as i left the car i noticed a vehicle next to mine had its hood open. so, as i donned my trusty mask, i asked if the guy needed a boost but, in frenglish, he told ne he was ok. that being the case, my first job was definitely to visit the latrine, the salle de bain, the little boys’ room. that often is a requirement when i get excited. unfortunately, the room was locked down tighter than a drum with a note to that effect, blaming the pandemic of course. and so, holding the turkey by the neck, so to speak, i beetled it back to my car. 

being terribly proud of my foresight, i grabbed the jar placed under my seat for just such an occasion. i unscrewed its lid, stuck the thing down my pants and let ‘er rip. i was so happy. i felt relieved, relaxed, even somewhat rapturous... until somebody knocked on my window. 

needless to say, that was a terrible shock. i jumped. luckily, everything stayed in place, more or less, and out of sight, as i rolled down the window. the guy whose vehicle was next to mine, apparently, had changed his mind. he needed a boost. 

just a simple ps.

ps; one brief comment i made last night, i don’t think you quite heard or i did not explain myself properly. here is what i meant to say: i do not really believe in enlightenment, nirvana or total self realization. i do not really believe any more that gautam buddha, jesus christ, swami muktananda, ekhart tolle or anyone else before or now, know directly god. i do not even know what the word god means. two people discussing god really need to define the term in order to have a proper discussion. i have said, and written, that i believe now that the best an individual human can do is become ok with the inevitable dissolution of ones own existence by daily tuning into the universal very essential life itself. where that essential life comes from is an unanswerable on-going enquiry. and i believe all those great masters and teachers who have said or intimated that they know the answer have either been lying or are self deluded. however, the experience, cessation of experience, if you will, or samadhi that affords one the realization or cognition of the all-permeating life should at the same time not be minimized. it is fabulously freeing, bliss-inducing beyond measure, and a tremendous blessing. also, in the light of that tremendous essence the differentiating between races, creeds, colours etc, as you very rightly pointed out, is a form of insanity. in the light of that essential all-permeating life, we are all one. 

the growling.

at two-thirty in the morning on a semi-dark night, walking slowly down the gravel street as i often do, i heard a growl. 

the focussed beam of my torch was unable to shine any light on what manner of creature was there. i stood still for a few moments, wary, careful, and continued only after listening for a good long while to the more familiar and comforting silence. 

it wasn’t a starlit night: largely cloudy. but there was a moon somewhere lighting it up around the edges. it wasn’t a chilly night: mostly warm. but there was a cool breeze that wasn’t after-all strong enough to affect the trees. they stood at least as still as i had. i’m attracted by the peace of that time of night, often seduced by the complete anonymity of it. if i’m sleepless i’m drawn to it and i’ll maybe see my neighbour’s feral cat, not much else really. so the growl was disconcerting, worrying. it put me on my guard, threw me off my game. 

and as i walked, there it was again: the low soft growl, menacing and close. the focussed beam of my torch was again unable to uncover whatever it was. and whatever it was, while not overtly dangerous, also didn’t sound particularly friendly. so of course i stood still again, wary, careful. and then, encouraged again by the pervasive silence, i carried on.  

however, that time i turned for home, and my pace quickened somewhat. i knew what panic felt like and that wasn’t it. but i saw no reason to hang around, uncertain, uneasy. i felt the warm breeze, the stones under my shoes. only, my attention was elsewhere, a hightened state of alertness, readiness, as i rounded the last bend. i walked quickly across my lawn and in the front door, which for whatever reason i locked behind me. i lay down on the bed still fully-clothed and let my torch fall to the ground.

and there it was again, that low soft growl. right there, in my house, in my room, in my bed... in my body. and i thought to myself: ‘ok, you really gotta cut out those evening coffees,’ as i rolled over onto my side. 

creatures large and small.

 “Many eyes go through the meadow, but few see the flowers in it” Ralph Waldo Emerson

assuming i’d spot wild-life only off in the distance, my eyes were peeled before practically tripping over a large buck that absently wandered out of the woods in front of me. 

a couple of years ago, that autumn when for some reason the area was crawling with bear, everybody was posting pics on facebook: cute bears in backyard pools, up in fruit trees or crossing roads. but by late october i still hadn’t seen even one cub and my buddy said i was probably the last. i was wandering, looking. desperately searching. 

hardly a week later, driving slowly up chemin des erables and peering off into the fields, right and left, i very nearly crashed my truck right into a fine bunionesque specimen. and i actually got out to apologize. he accepted the apology rather dismissively even though i probably woulda gotten the worst of it. 

sometimes i feel as though i’m trying to consume the natural world. it’s not as if i’d have any more chance of taking any with me than my truck or mom’s silver tea set. be that as it may, i walk out in the middle of many a clear night to drink in the stars. i gaze absently beside rivers and lakes, wander through woods looking for creatures large and small. and yes i go into towns to see the people. 

i’ve gone to the omega game park three times, alone, to look at all the animals. i like that. i buy a large sack of unwashed carrots each time and feed the elk and deer. i offered one to a guy fixing fences and he shot me a withering look as if to say: ‘really?’ 

i’d been driving along the cabot trail on cape breton island for two days looking for moose. i was told to drive slowly in the early morning or i’d crash into one for sure. but it wasn’t happening for me. on the second early misty morning, in the distance i saw the clear and obvious shape of a moose. and i was excited. i approached excitedly, only to realize it was a plywood cut-out advertising ‘the moose motel’.   

i’ve seen moose in my life, bears, whales. heck, i shared a path with a snow-leopard. i discussed the meaning of life with a mountain lion. i’ve hung out with elephants, camels, even lived with a scorpion once for a few months. i may have always been like this, only i believe my fascination, with life really, has taken on more of an immediacy of late. and i don’t seem to have had enough, not even nearly enough.

"I like it when a flower or a little tuft of grass grows through a crack in the concrete. It's so fuckin' heroic.” Georg Carlin.

anywhere.

 

when i meditate it doesn’t matter where i am. i could be in india or canada, the himalayas or the gatineaus. it doesn’t matter and i often don’t even know. it’s the space, a world, life. 

before writing those two lines i was somewhere, didn’t exactly know where, near quebec city. having driven all day i sat in the back of my van and very soon i could’ve been anywhere. but, eventually, i opened my eyes, jotted down those lines before eating a veggie sub and then feeling kinda sick. a year earlier i’d made the same drive and i‘d fallen ill after eating a veggie panini in trois riviere. 

anyway, i knew exactly where i was by then. i was in my body and not happy about it, or my body was not happy to have me. darkness robbed me of the last glimmer of light, hope and i was clearly in trouble. my stomach ached, carcass vibrated with fever. was this covid? how? covid’s supposed to be really quite horrible and this was all of that. was this carbon monoxide? c.o. poisoning seemed reasonable. It musta been that sandwich.

i wandered and wondered, not certain what to do, had to endure it on my own, not that i had much choice. i wondered and wandered, around a strange town’s empty night-time streets, not really able to stand, sit and lying down was outta the question. it wasn’t my worst night, but up there. an old lady appeared from out of a mist as i was circling a small parking lot like a caged creature. she chattered on as i continuously motioned for her to stay away and soon, no doubt thinking me rude, she disappeared as easily, just before dawn.

so i turned the van around, drove home with windows wide, feeling a bit, well, not quite human, maybe reptilian. but i stopped often, drove slowly and by nighttime i was at the wakefield hospital on a stretcher. it was a nice stretcher with flannel sheets and good people scurrying around. and apparently i had food poisoning.

by early morning i coulda been anywhere, in that space, a world, life. it may not matter, but i knew i was home and happy. dawn came in eventually, folded up the dark, pulled back the blinds so i could check out the beauty all around: the birch-trees lining the front, cedar all along the side. dawn pointed out the mist, seemed strangely friendlier this time. nice to be home. 

equanimity.

 dear kalyani; lovely name.

     thanks for your question. i like questions, makes me feel useful 😋. the fact is we share the same issue, perhaps many or even all folks do. to one extent or another. the other day all i wanted to do was install a new toilet seat. those are the simplest things to change and yet i couldn’t do it properly, had to kind of jerry-rig the new seat into place. and i was swearing like a sailor (do sailors actually swear more than other people?) maybe because i live alone i tend to talk to myself, and i often say: “you can’t even do that simple thing, you f-ing jerk,” even days after. 

     your problem is more relevant than the ridiculous example i just mentioned. but nobody likes to fail, at anything, whether an important business presentation or installing a new toilet seat. and i will honestly tell you what has helped me most of all in my life: age. i’m 69 and now i know pretty much for certain that none of it really matters, none of it ever mattered. i still beat myself up, a little, but i also kind of laugh at myself at the same time. really. and i kind of laugh at others, although not in a mean-spirited way, seeing how seriously they take themselves. it just doesn’t really matter. and for me, what has helped best has been a combination of age and meditation.

     the combination has been wonderful because the question begs asking: how can one become a little wiser earlier? how can one learn to relax now? what practice will help me relax and accept myself now? i know that if i had not meditated all these years i would not have the perspective that i do have. it has been my greatest treasure. lord knows where i’d be or who i’d be otherwise. and it did help me immediately. but i must add at the same time that it’s not a quick fix. it’s a long-term commitment to change. the practice helps initially with all our issues, depending on their severity. sometimes folks need more assistance otherwise: a trained professional, a doctor, maybe even medications. but, i am quite confident in saying that meditation smooths out those rough edges right away and more and more. 

     now a big part of the practice is the training of equanimity: being the watcher, being the uninvolved observer. when sitting, the more one practices simply watching the negative thoughts, painful memories, failures, without owning it all, the more profound an effect that training has in ones daily life. i would recommend that while being the watcher you even say: ‘it’s pain, not my pain, just pain.’ remember one thing: the mind will make us unhappy and then make us unhappy about being unhappy. the practice of equanimity can break that cycle. be the watcher more and the pain less. eventually, when you make a mistake during a presentation, you will have an innate ability to notice and act creatively, sometimes even in the moment. and you will shrug your shoulder if it’s afterward. it will just be who you have become. 

     this message is long enough kalyani dear. i could go on, but i’ll stop now. i’m always around, so far, and invite you to contact me anytime. best wishes going forward. 

     sincerely; nathan. 

meditation.

This article is written for those special people who have become interested in or perhaps even fascinated by the idea of meditation. If you’re searching for instructions into a Reiki Level 1 course, Tarot cards, healing with crystals or how to contact your dead grandmother, this will not work for you. As wonderful as all those things may be, this article is exclusively concerned with explaining the pure, ancient and highly respected science of meditation, how and why to include it in your life. There is really no certification at the end of studying and practicing. There is, however, tremendous relaxation, a profound sense of well-being and a greater understanding of something rather vague I call ‘self-knowledge.’

At the start of one of my sessions, a severe-looking lady asked what my qualifications were for teaching. A lesser man might've broken down, admitted to being a total fraud. What I said, what I always say, is that I have no certificate or accreditation from any institute. I invited her to feel free to read the back of one of my books to learn a bit of my personal history, specifically as it pertains to the study, experience and teaching of meditation. But most importantly, I added, one has to rely on one’s own intellect and power of discrimination in order to choose who is worth listening to on any subject, especially this one. Moreover, ultimately, one has to take what is useful from any teacher or technique that guarantees results. Even the historical Buddha allegedly said that any technique worth employing must help a person in his or her life, here and now, right away.

The main teacher of the two main teachers in my life, Swami Shyamji, once gave me a piece of advice that I continue to keep close to my heart. As I was leaving his Himalayan hermitage to join a six-month, silent Vipassana Buddhist meditation retreat in Maharashtra, India, I asked if he had any last minute words of advice. “Yes, I do,” he said smiling impishly. “My advice is: Don’t be a Buddhist, be the Buddha.” And with those words ringing in my ears I slithered away. Along with countless other words from Swamiji over the years, I’ve never forgotten that advice. I’ve often repeated it to my so-called students and even expanded upon it. Don’t be a Buddhist, be the Buddha. Don’t be a Christian, be the Christ. Don’t be a Hindu, be Krishna. Don’t be a Sikh, be Guru Nanak. Don’t be a Jew, be Moses. Don’t be an asshole, be Trump.

So, no matter who we choose to listen to, sit with or learn from, it’s up to each of us to dig our own freedom, to find our own way, to become the enlightened one with no certificate to show for our trouble. Just freedom. It is in the light of this realization that I humbly offer these suggestions. In reality, I am not a teacher and you are not a student. If what I write is true and if it strikes a responsive chord within you, then we are united in that understanding. We are united not as teacher and student, but as Truth itself.

Having said all that, I should add something about why it may be helpful to seek some form of guidance or a ‘teacher’ when beginning to examine the science of meditation. One needn’t stay for long. One needn’t cook or clean for him or her, do anything strange in bed or hand over one’s money. What one must do is take advantage of the experience of a fellow traveler who has gone before, who has been up the path and who just might know the tricky twists and turns to watch out for along the way. And there’s one more reason to sit with someone whose meditation practice has matured. The rare people who have dedicated themselves to the process over many years actually emanate a spiritual essence, a vibration that is transmitted to those around them. That may sound terribly mystical, but it’s a fact and a quality not to be underestimated.

On one visit from India many years ago, my dad asked why meditation seemed to have helped me so much, but not my sister, who had also been meditating for some years. She was a devotee of a highly respected teacher, master and guru from India, Swami Yogananda, who had been a pioneer in bringing the information about meditation to the western world. Unfortunately, really, he passed away long before my sister ever heard of him. I replied to my dad that I didn’t have a definitive answer to that question, assuming that he was even correct. But I offered a possible explanation. I said that if one wanted to learn to play the piano, it wouldn’t really be of any use to sit in front of a photo of one’s teacher placed on the music stand above the keys. Why would meditation be any different? Why, for that matter, would religion be any different? It’s interesting that all truly enlightened people have said that we are one life, one energy, one love, irrespective of caste, race, creed, color or any other apparent difference. Why does the essential and original message of the enlightened beings through the ages become so perverted as to cause wars? Don’t be a Buddhist. Be the Buddha.

There’s really nothing hard to understand about meditation. And yet, it’s widely misunderstood here in the western world, and even in its home country, India. From the Sanskrit word, dhyaan, meditation has become synonymous with all things flaky and maladjusted. It’s been blamed for wasted talents and even wasted lives. Nothing could be further from the truth. I will admit that I put the Saran Wrap in the refrigerator and the milk in the cupboard once in a while. But I, along with so many other people who have spent years meditating, have found something so fine, so beautiful and freeing that nothing can compare with it. Rather than blame the proud process of meditation for our foibles, we praise it as the cause of our deep sense of well-being.

My teacher, early on, once said, “Nathan, the same mind that has gotten you into trouble can get you out of it.” In those days I rather hoped drugs might be the answer. But he assured me that was wrong, that drugs would only ruin my nervous system. I still prefer a mild pain-killer for headaches. However, somehow I came to understand that meditation is a powerful tool. Once trained, I realized, the mind could be used against the enemies of true happiness, such as a myriad of physical ailments, mental complexes and even the innate fear of death. Apparently, the Buddha was known to say that desires are the root cause of all problems. My mother said that lack of money is the root cause of all problems. My friend Danny seemed to think that not having many relationships is the root cause of all problems. Since I tried my mom’s solution and Danny’s solution for a while, I decided to try the Buddha’s, even though I never actually met the fellow. I thought I saw him once at a party, but I couldn’t be sure. Be that as it may, I was pretty concerned about losing my desire for money and relationships if I began to meditate. My girlfriend at the time was even more concerned. Now I see that’s not how it works. You don’t have to give up anything. You only have to add one thing to your life: a few minutes of meditation daily. Then sit back and watch it enhance whatever else you’re into. Watch it help you let go of what you want or need to let go of. Watch it make you see the cup as half full. Watch it make you happy.

One of the most prevalent misconceptions about meditation is that you have to stop your thoughts, kill your mind. What one has to stop, cut or kill is only the concept. Leave your mind alone. To allow a wild horse to settle down, it probably isn’t a great idea to put it in a very small corral. It’s far more preferable to give the creature a large, wide-open field to roam around in. It'll settle down on its own. In the same way, it’s far better to let the thoughts come and go freely. Merely sitting or lying down for some time each day and applying the technique assures one of a positive result. Only your misconceptions concerning what you’re doing can get in the way. The very act of stopping for a while will have a positive influence on your day, your life. That’s because, actually, you do not meditate. You just need to get out of the way for meditation to happen naturally. I'll explain. It’s easy, yet very few people will do it.

Dhyaan actually means ‘attention’ or ‘contemplation.’ Whether a mantra (usually a Sanskrit phrase) or the breath becomes your chosen point of attention, the results of meditation, as I’ve said, are assured. Done with the right understanding, your mind will settle down, you will enjoy a heightened sense of well-being. Done with continuity, you will be well on your way to becoming a more contented person, walking happily through life while, of course, sometimes spoiling the milk by putting it in the cupboard. 

There are three states of consciousness that everyone is very familiar with: the waking state, the dreaming state and the deep sleep state. From the moment of conception, the ancient sages have said, a person begins to forget that he or she has a fourth state, which is called Turiya in Sanskrit. This state permeates all the other states, just as water is the essence of the iceberg. So the very act of stopping all your activities and tuning in to the essence of your existence, which is what you’re effectively doing in meditation, will take care of a lot. And the benefits are many.

In eastern philosophies and scriptures, you’ll often read that whatever is transitory cannot be said to be real. You’ll read that whatever is eternal is real and true. So this body, mind, ego mechanism is in that case not real or even existing. The ancient sages said that there is, in fact, no death because there was no birth. The space from whence ‘we’ come from, to where ‘we’ go, is considered real. The technique becomes, in the light of the previous paragraph, like an anchor. Utilizing it helps bring one’s attention back to one’s own self, to the reality of the essential life animating your body and mind. The technique helps us stop. As well, the technique trains the mind to focus like a laser beam, which will have far-reaching effects on your day, your life and, ultimately, your true knowledge.

The Vedantic scriptures liken the mind to a monkey flitting from branch to branch, tree to tree. Our mind flits from object to object and from thought to thought. We become so extraverted over the course of the years, or even as each day progresses, that it behooves us to find a way to regroup, so to speak. So, when we’ve decided to let the thoughts come and go freely while we sit and watch, we merely add one new thought. The phrase, or mantra, becomes a very significant and enjoyable thought as time marches on. All true mantras mean virtually the same thing: ‘I am the pure life, the essential energy animating all the forms.’ There is a popular Buddhist mantra that goes ‘Om mani padme hum’: ‘Behold the jewel within the lotus flower.’ There is a popular Hindu mantr that goes ‘Amaram Hum Madhuram Hum’: ‘I am immortal, I am blissful and indivisible.’ All real mantras basically refer to the one life, the one light at the center of all beings, the energy that animates all the forms.

It is often noted that Sanskrit is used for mantras because the vibration of the phrases resonate within the human mind to open certain spiritual channels. For an in-depth dissertation on the vibrational qualities of Sanskrit, I recommend Chaytna’s book, ‘Let’s Learn Hindi,’ which can be found through her website; www.letslearnhindi.com. I’ve always used the Sanskrit word; ‘Shyam’, as my mantra. It’s the name of my teacher and of the power that sustains life. It really doesn’t matter what mantra you choose, although Sanskrit mantras are the most recommended. However, choosing a mantra and sticking to it is important. Meditation is a technique of being one-pointed, after all. Chogyam Trungpa once wrote that western people tend to try many different techniques, which is like a thirsty person digging many shallow wells but never hitting water. He wrote that we should dig one well deep enough to achieve the desired result.

Having chosen a mantra, or been given one by a spiritual guide, master or guru, you’re ready to begin. My teacher used to say that you should be able to meditate anywhere unless somebody is physically shaking you. I once climbed all the way down to the bottom of a dormant volcano in Hawaii, called Haliakalu, in a quest to find the perfect spot for meditation. A hut had been constructed there for trekkers or foolish folks looking for a perfect spot to meditate. I felt so sure I’d finally found my place. Unfortunately, since there were no panes of glass nor screens in the windows, a couple of flies flew fairly frequently in there making a racket like they were at the El Macombo on a Saturday night. I left in a huff the next morning. 

Later, on my way to India for the first time, I was compelled to sleep on the rooftop of a hotel in Peshawar after a long and tiring day of travel. The noise level from the crowds up there and the hollering, smoke and smells from the streets below were off the charts. I was convinced meditation would be a wasted endeavor in such a place. But, I had little choice. It was my rule to sit every evening one hour. And after an hour, in spite of my misgivings, I felt rejuvenated, refreshed. As well, contrary to popular belief, it’s not necessary to sit ramrod straight with legs crossed. It’s not even necessary to sit at all. You can lie down, settle into a comfortable chair or sit on a cushion with legs out or crossed. Since meditation is first a process of relaxation, let the sense of ease be your guide. You should feel relaxed and comfortable.

It’s easy to find a spot where there is very little noise. It’s easy to find a spot where there are virtually no pungent odors, unless of course you don’t bathe. It’s easy to find a spot where you’re not touching anything other than the pillows. But how does one get away from one’s own mental projections? As I’ve said before, the first thing to not do is mind your own thoughts. Don’t mind your mind. Remember, the same mind that got us into trouble can get us out. The mind is a trickster, a monkey. It will first distract you from your mantra and then make you feel bad for being distracted. Allow your thoughts to come and go freely. Decide beforehand that you won’t feel bad about them. Because I promise that you will be distracted again and again. So each time you realize you’ve been thinking or listening to a noise or feeling pain, pleasure or a strong emotion of some sort, just go back to your mantra without any sense of self-recrimination. There’s no need to beat yourself up over this. You can even get right into thinking, about your day, your life. You can get into thinking about life itself, pure, free and forever. Just keep returning to your mantra, again and again.

It is important to understand that whatever one perceives and experiences in meditation, just as in ones day-to-day life, is transitory and changing. Whatever one thinks, hears, whatever pain, pleasure or strong emotion one experiences will have a beginning and an end. So, when you meditate it is useful to just watch it all. Don't try to get away from anything or hang onto anything. Just practice being the watcher of it all. The same uninvolved observer who was watching as a young boy or girl is the same one who is watching now. As your body has grown and as you’ve gained more and more skills, qualifications and life experiences, that watcher has never changed. That one has been watching all the changes and is watching still, unchanged, uninvolved. That uninvolved observer has always and will always be fine throughout the life and even after. Think about that.

In spite of what I wrote earlier, I am going to suggest two more techniques. Because I feel sure that the people reading this dissertation, like the people I keep meeting, and especially now with the right understanding, are brilliant enough to decide which is best suited to them and how to use the information offered here. 

The first of these two techniques is called Anapana, with a soft ‘a.’ It is a technique of concentrating on the breath. Anapana is referred to as the maha mantra, the ultimate mantra. The reason is that it’s the least tangible, the subtlest point one can attend. There’s virtually no form to watch, no form to hold on to with your mind. However, the ancient sages have said that it’s a bridge between the part of us that’s transitory and the part that’s eternal, the source of our energy. I have often suggested it can also be combined with mantr.

The million-dollar question is this: Can you allow the inhalation and exhalation to happen on its own without asserting yourself? Can you stop doing anything and just observe your own breath? While sitting, slouching or lying down, or while waiting to be wheeled in for your gall-bladder operation, put your attention on the nose-nostrils-upper-lip area and watch the breath. Don’t follow your breath in or out. This is not a breathing exercise. Watch the inhalation, the exhalation and the spaces between. And, again, as often as your attention is deflected into your thoughts, the noises around you or the pain in your tummy, that many times you have to go back to your chosen point of attention. And don’t bother being bothered by being bothered by being distracted.

You may not think you’re having a very peaceful meditation. As I’ve already pointed out, you may think you’re wasting your time. Just keep in mind that rooftop in Peshawar and give peace a chance. There is no such thing as a bad meditation. You may doubt that you can do it. You may doubt that you should do it. I suggest that you be patient and give yourself time. In one of my recent sessions, a lady said that she really didn’t understand what she was doing while meditating. That was a valid point. It was a valid point because she was not doing anything. We’re not used to stopping. We’re not used to letting go. It’s much simpler to run around the block for a half hour than to stop all our activities for the same time period. It’s the most worthy and yet the most difficult of all activities. It's easy and hard. In fact, it’s too simple. And don’t get stuck on the technique. You can just watch the space, so to speak. You can decide. You are the teacher. You are the path.

Which brings me to my third suggestion, my last technique. This simple technique is close to my heart. In fact, it's close to everyones heart. Here's how this one goes: 

Just think about a person you have loved with all your heart. Dwell upon that person, or even that pet, you have been most enamored of, most attached to, the being whose presence you have most treasured. Even if he, she or it is physically no longer in your life, even if the memory causes you pain, don't turn your thoughts away. The pain is because there was that much love, that much oneness and I assure you the pain and pleasure are not two different realities. 

After a few moments, let go of that person or being and put your attention on the feelings, dwell on those feelings, follow those feelings to their source deep within you. Because those feelings existed long before the object of your love came in front of your eyes and other senses. Those feelings and that heart-space have always been there. Eventually, you can envision a pond that, when a pebble is tossed into it, causes ripples to spread out from the center. Let those waves, the vibrations, ripple throughout your body and flood your system with all that goodness. Envision that life-sustaining healing power spread throughout your body and even beyond. But, mostly, dwell on that place, space, center, the force, the source of your love. 

One of the first things you’re likely to notice is that the quality of your thoughts will change. You probably won’t feel like hollering at your wife or husband so much anymore, tying a tin can to the tail of your neighbor’s cat, back-ending the guy who just cut you off. You may feel uncharacteristically charitable. When that happens, and it will, you may think something is wrong. Of course, if the new thought processes seem strangely soothing, continue. It won’t be long before you’ll get the feeling you’re looking for. When one is sitting, continuously placing ones attention on or identifying with the watcher, one is essentially developing equanimity. Each time one says ‘pain’ rather than ‘my pain,’ or ‘pleasure’ instead of ‘my pleasure,’ one is essentially stepping back from the ever-changing phenomenon just a tiny bit. In that way a person will observe again and again how all of ones sensory perceptions, whether pleasant or unpleasant, change. But a person will also observe again and again how the observer, the watcher, remains ever the same. In that way, one is travelling in the right direction and eventually, aside from any deeper effect, an ability to pause before reacting to whatever is going on around you is necessarily developed. And that ability to take a moment, even a split moment, to act creatively rather than react blindly, is incredibly valuable.

When a person throws an insult in your direction, for example, and you catch it as though it’s a bouquet of roses, the insult loses all its power. It would be tempting to underestimate the technique I’ve suggested. But before discarding the practice out of hand to return to your Scrabble game, you may find it interesting to dwell on the fact that there are thousands of people around the world who have dedicated their lives to doing nothing else. Of course, then you’ll have to figure out if they’re all misguided idiots or folks who have actually discovered a way to answer first-hand those insidious questions that linger in our minds from early childhood. While everyone is striving for name, fame and fabulous wealth during this lifetime, people tend to lose sight of one very important fact. In a hundred years or so, nobody you know now will be alive. And nobody who is alive will really care who you were.

There are certain things that don’t go well with meditation. Smoking cigarettes, smoking dope and drinking copious amounts of alcohol tend to be counterproductive. Heroin, crack and meth are not recommended. It’s a matter of going from the grosser to the subtler. And in that regard I would also take the chance to suggest eating less meat, especially red meat, and consuming more fruits and vegetables. People who are completely into eating animals on a regular basis might not appreciate my writing that. But, I think it’s really very important that I do. I only hope you don’t come after me with a meat cleaver muttering something about it being all fine if you use the right spices. In fact, as i've said, nobody need necessarily 'cut' out any pleasures whatsoever. Just add one more thing to your life. Meditation will help everyone.

And while I’m offending people’s sensibilities I may as well mention my belief in the importance of continence. I’m not referring to the obvious advantages of curing oneself of adult bed-wetting. After all, there are effective plastic sheets on the market these days, or so I’ve been told. Certainly, I’d have to be insane to suggest cutting down on sexual activity, it being the way we tend to judge how wonderful we are. So I won’t go there at all. This sensitive area of the ancient science of the sages is esoteric and I therefore will not explain it. It’s secret. My lips are sealed. I’m only lightly, gingerly alluding to the possibility of a certain conservation of energy. I will write all about it openly in my upcoming book, ‘Unprotected Sects.’

When I returned to Canada in 1998, I was quite amazed to find out how many people had attained miraculous powers rather, well, miraculously. It still seems to me that every second person has the ability to heal merely with a touch. Many don’t even need to touch you. They can do it over the phone or by skype. There are a plethora of channelers, people able to communicate with angels, crystal bowl healers, psychics, clairvoyants, palm readers, garden variety fortune tellers, intuitives, aura readers, tea leaf readers... It seems that in the new-age everybody’s sister, mother and brother are powerful healers and teachers. And that’s just great. I would only mention that one might be well advised to keep ones attention on the goal.

Many years ago Alan Abel, who was with the Globe and Mail in Toronto at the time, came to visit the Hermitage in Kullu, India, where I lived for twenty-five years. During his interview with My teachet, Alan asked if Swamiji had any extra-normal powers. “Yes, I do,” Swamiji said. “I have the power to love everyone unconditionally.” I’m quite convinced that greatest of all powers can be only attained by the direct experience of the oneness of all life, the one life permeating all the forms, pure, free and forever.

There’s nothing to compel one to meditate or even make enquiries about it. However, if you’ve gotten this far, if you are impelled, you may as well read the rest of what I want to say. When one looks up at the night sky and sees all those stars, one has to wonder where it ends. And, for that matter, one has to wonder where it all begins. Intelligent people through the ages have continuously wondered where they came from and where they end up after the body dissolves. 

I haven’t an answer to those questions, not from firsthand experience or knowledge. But, I do know that asking oneself those questions is certainly the beginning of a great journey. And my direct personal experience has left me quite convinced that there is more to life than what meets the eye. There’s more to me than this body and mind. This is a fact that I know through personal, direct experience. It has also become extremely obvious to me that, in spite of the many differences, we all breathe the same air, that our hearts all pulsate with the same love of life, and that we all desire freedom.

Namaste.

-

seeing the forest for the trees.

“knowing trees, i understand the meaning of patience. knowing grass, i can appreciate persistence.” hal borland. 

the fields had been cut within the last few days. and i fully expect to see large round bales next time i go. it was spectacularly hot as i walked along, a shirt around my waist, a mosquito-net hat bunched up on top of my head. it was quiet, one of those walks during which one finds oneself under a sky that can best be described as big. 

i headed into the woods, just to see what was on the other side. there was no other side, however, at least i didn’t get to any other side. there was simply another field and more woods. i didn’t notice any creatures, but i can’t say there weren’t any. i came across a pile of something-or-other off to one side and tuna-fish was not my first guess, but there was no creature hovering nearby looking relieved.

be that as it may, i trundled along, appreciating the peace and freedom from all things pandemic. for during those moments, in those fields and in those woods there was no virus, no sickness. and sometimes all i need is to throw myself into the warm, loving embrace of a beautiful forest to be reassured that perfection is all around.

“march on, do not tarry. to go forward is to move toward perfection. march on and fear not the thorns or the sharp stones along life’s path.” khalil gibran.  

the love of my life.

‘she was the love of my life, until she wasn’t’. 

i’ve always thought that’d be a great country/western song title. i’ve always liked country music so, as pandemic fear spread inexorably through the radio-waves, i switched from cbc to a country station. i thought a little down-home music would be a less traumatic way to begin the day.

i’d tuned into the cbc first thing in the morning for years. i’d sip my first cup of coffee, catch up on the latest news as the day dawned. it was pleasant, but that was then and this is now. as the news-cycles became infected by covid-19, i decided that ingesting a super intense cup of kick-ass coffee, combined with endless news-flashes about the real possibility of a wheezing death, might not be such a stellar way to begin each day.

unfortunately, after listening to the current country music for a while i realized i might’ve been mistaken. the lyrics did not speak to me, probably because i’m not a raging alcoholic. for example: ‘i like cold beer, yes i do. i like cold beer, how ‘bout you?,’ or: ‘the beer i had for breakfast wasn’t bad, so i had another for desert,’ or: ‘tequila makes grandma take her pants off.’ whatever happened to: ‘i walk the line,’ ‘forever and ever amen,’ or: ‘i hope you dance.’

the commercials on all the channels, of course, could drive anyone to drink. ‘we’re here for you’ is an oft-repeated phrase i seriously doubt. paying a company to help me get outta debt seems questionable. an injury-lawyer incessantly assuring me he’d only get paid when i got paid feels somehow odd. ‘buy more, save more’ is a catchy if illogical slogan. banks, car dealerships, the big-box department stores all claim to have our best interests in mind. there’s an ad for a retirement residence that sounds paradisiacal, and they apparently have several vacancies at the moment. i found myself looking wistfully at the saaq as i drove over to buy groceries.

in the end, i simply began to resist turning the radio on altogether, for a while. i drink a bit of coffee while listening instead to the birds sing, watch the day dawn and appreciate the moments of perfection. i’m awake, the mornings are lovely, i feel grateful. after all, she was the love of my life, until she wasn’t.

‘it is in the early morning hour that the unseen is seen and the far-off beauty and glory, vanquishing all the vagueness, moves down upon us till they stand clear as crystals close against the soul.” sarah smiley.

the tooth shall set you free.

i’ve been waiting years for someone to ask a certain question, because i have a great answer. nobody has asked and so i can wait no longer. 

the question i envisioned some earnest spiritualist to ask would go something like this: “nathan, with your tremendous wisdom please tell me, when will i lose my ego? i meditate religiously and follow all the right precepts. i study the scriptures, perform good deeds and yet still i feel terribly ego-full” “yes,” i would respond patronizingly. “you are a great aspirant and therefore i will now impart unto you the true and largely esoteric knowledge: you will lose your ego, my young student, when your teeth begin to fall out, especially the front ones.”

that is, after all, my direct personal experience. having been a monk and a yogi, after silent retreats and strict spiritual practices, it was only on that day many years ago when my bottom two front teeth got yanked that i knew the process had really begun. that was an honest-to-god, bonafide, true spiritual experience. and it was surprising.

there was a large fish tank in the centre of the waiting room with hardly a few tiny little fish swimming around confusedly. i presumed the tank was to help clients feel relaxed, but frankly it had the opposite effect on me. i kept wondering if those were only the last surviving fish. i don’t know why i had that sense. perhaps it was actually a pervasive subconscious sense of impending doom. for whatever reason, i was far from feeling relaxed.  

i’d made the appointment for an unrelated issue. however, from the start my dentist recognized with a sense of urgency that those two bottom front teeth were dangerously deteriorated in some way and he summarily, unceremoniously pulled them. i clearly recall him losing his grip on one of the chiclets as it sprang forth. and the thing had such an impressive trajectory that it landed with a loud clang on the tiled floor.   

the sound of that clang has stayed with me. it has come to represent, in my mind, the starting bell to the rest of my life. i walked out of that office that day with a mouth-full of cotton and a realization that i was not the same person who had entered an hour earlier. i was no longer who or what i had thought myself to be. i‘d be walking around with a large space in my mouth for the next few weeks and, interestingly, i felt strangely freed. i felt strangely relieved.

one of my very last remaining teeth was pulled out not long before the pandemic pandemonium pounced upon the world. i walked out into the reception area once again with a mouth-full of cotton. and the lady behind the counter asked if i’d like to schedule a cleaning, to which i spluttered: “for what?” she just gazed up at me blankly, but the young dental assistant beside me began laughing. so i turned to her and mumbled: “do you charge by the tooth?”

www.artdelapaix.ca. 



love’s driving rain.

only along these hallowed hallways 

of forms imagined in absence of candle-light

can we recall with all relief the brilliance of our own

and be ever after the benefactors of more bounty 

than the fiercest of pirates could’ve ever known

to roam with freedom’s star at our backs 

amidst a celebration of fear’s flight.

only within these structures narrow and changing

along illusions foyer of time and space

might we watch ourselves loosen the confines to reflect

on being ever the recipients of more richness

than the shrewdest entrepreneurs could’ve hoped to collect

to drift purposefully with love’s driving rain upon our chests

towards an awesome and humbling grace.

only along these stairways of creativity

designed for joy and sorrow’s conclusion

can the very lords and ladies of the estate enjoy the climb

to look out upon garden and stream

a panoramic vision to the corners of a kingdom

more grande and expansive 

than the greatest conquerors unfulfilled dreams.

only within these channels of absolute synapsis

might we investigate our affection for the other

to understand the all-permeating oneness

and gaze forever undisturbed with freedom’s star

and love’s rain as our comrade’s against delusion

to walk forever undisturbed with freedom’s sparkling star

and love’s driving rain for company in our eternal seclusion. 

that thou art.

after living in the wilds of a glorious alaskan countryside for months, he wrote deliriously in his notebook: ‘happiness is only real if it’s shared.’ 

that was the film’s climactic conclusion. at that moment it had been decided that happiness, at any rate the main character’s happiness, could only be real if shared with his parents, sister and no doubt the lovely girl he’d met along the way. 

so much for the message, the inference being that there can be no real happiness without all that. i was strongly in favour of his decision to pack up and go home. i was seriously rooting for him. he’d at least get a decent shower, eat a few veggies, have some laundry done. nevertheless, the boy had rather unsurprisingly but just slightly missed the point. 

in sanskrit, there‘s a saying: ‘tat twam assi,’ ‘that thou art’. this is a time during which we‘re yet again cajoling each other into understanding our interconnectedness, our oneness. it behooves us to understand that, to really understand that the whole of creation is permeated essentially by one life-force, irrespective of race, creed, colour or even species. that thou art. our happiness is just as real simply when shared with the life all around, in any of its myriad forms, including our own. 

ironically, what i loved most about the film, what made me happiest, was the spectacular scenery and wild-life. it made me happy to see the elk, wolves, moose, bear. the cinematography was fantastic. i was not, however, so happy when one died and the story did not end well. one cannot help but feel for the characters around us with even the subtlest understanding of our unity. that thou art.

when one of us is in trouble, in that case, it’s as if we’re each of us in trouble. when one of us can’t breathe, with that understanding, it’s as if none of us can breathe.

“one's life has value so long as one attributes value to the life of others, by means of love, friendship, compassion and true understanding.” simone de beauvoir

updating the ipad.

thursday came and went without seeing the ‘ups’ delivery van i’d been waiting for. i’d been waiting for several weeks, in fact, for my brand-spanking new ipad.  

i ordered the thing on-line, through ‘apple’, as that was the responsible thing to do, because that’s the kind of guy i am. i coulda driven down to gatineau, bought the thing then and there. only, health experts and democratically-elected government officials asked me not to, and i do what i’m told. besides, a friend told me she’d previously received a new iphone within three-working days. 

only after actually pulling the trigger on the deal did i notice it would be coming from china, and it’d take a few weeks. had it not shown that before? had i missed that notation on the website? why was it coming from china? does ‘apple’ not have distributors in canada? is there no meaning to life? those were questions i asked myself at that moment.

after several days i received an email congratulating me on the fact that my order was on its way, shipped through ‘ups.’ there was no reward or trophy offered, and the ipad did not arrive as scheduled. so i waited the next day as well. i watched out my window all the live-long day like a faithful golden-retriever waiting for its master to return. i knew i had to be there to sign for the thing: there’d be a further delay if i missed the delivery. so i languished inside writing, reading, playing scrabble on my old cracked ipad and i jumped each time i thought i heard a vehicle approaching. my tail would begin wagging wildly while inevitably a wrong jalopy passed and i’d go back to my chair. 

the ‘ups’ website continued to say the delivery would be completed by the end of the day. i couldn’t find any phone number for ‘ups’ so i phoned ‘apple’ at 5:30. a lovely-sounding sympathetic lady eventually answered and looked over my order information. then she asked: “why did you purchase the ipad from china?” i remained silent, not trusting myself to say anything, but she soon admitted she couldn’t help other than to give me a phone number for ups which, i pointed out, was a tremendous help. 

i immediately called ‘ups’ and was put on hold, with no exaggeration, for a half hour. but i waited, because that’s what i do. i wait. and sometime just before all light and hope was sucked out of the day i did talk to a lovely-sounding sympathetic lady. she looked over my order and declared that the package had not passed through customs in time to be put on the truck that day. she added that probably it was because the ipad had come from china. then she asked why i ordered it from china. of course i guffawed and of course i suggested that i hadn’t order it from china, that i had of course innocently ordered it from ‘apple’. 
     
anyway, she apologized profusely for the wrong notation on the ups website and assured me it’d arrive next day for sure maybe. which of course it didn’t. by about four o’clock i kept muttering things like: ‘you couldn’t make stuff like this up.’ however, i had a phone number. so once again i called and once again was put on hold for a half hour. periodically a recorded message would suggest i check their website to discover how ‘ups’ is responding to the pandemic. but i already knew how they’re responding to the pandemic.

therefore i waited. and eventually a lovely-sounding sympathetic lady answered my call, looked over my order and offered apologies for having made me waste those days. she somehow sounded sincerely sorry, and didn’t even ask why i ordered it from china. so i admitted that i really had nothing better to do anyway and, i added, waiting for my new ipad was by far the most exciting part of my current life. she had a good laugh, so i guess i did something useful that day, yesterday.

as it stands, the new ipad will be delivered tomorrow or wednesday for sure maybe. but, really, i’ve gotten hours of enjoyment out of it already. 

what exactly’s on its way.

sometimes, when i’ve just returned home and walked in the door, i call out: “honey i’m home!” some might consider that odd seeing as i live alone. and i talk to my geranium too. mostly, however, i just talk to myself, alot. and recently i’ve had quite a debate going on, and so have i. the question was: do i pull the trigger on the purchase of a new ipad or not. and eventually my less practical better half won out. 

next i debated whether to buy it on-line or simply drive in to ‘staples.’ but i hadn’t been out and about in over two months. and folks of a certain vintage are still being encouraged to die alone in our lazy-boys until further notice. and anyway an ipad could hardly be considered an essential item, as much as it might feel like it these days. it aint food, medicine or toilet paper. anyway, originally it seemed that if anyone could be fine self-isolating for a month or three it should be me. well, i’ve been fine at home, only now i’m no longer sure how to dress, how to behave. so i purchased the ipad on-line.

the transaction of course went smoothly enough. of course that part was easy. of course you know these items cost a helluva lot and of course ‘apple’ snatched the funds up immediately. i received their gracious email receipt and then of course i waited, and i waited. ten days later i looked down at the ipad on my lap and, yup, it was the same old one with the cracks: time to check the parcel’s status. 

that’s when, after using the tracking number, i saw that the ipad was nicely wrapped and ready to leave... china. i had had no idea. no wonder it was taking so long to arrive. and i gotta admit that overall it felt a bit weird. at the risk of joining brian adams in the dog-house, or the wet-market as it were, i immediately envisioned some poor shlub in wuhan assembling the thing while coughing and wheezing. i couldn’t help myself. i have a vivid imagination. i pictured the ipad arriving, transmitting a clear spectacular picture along with covid-19 and me dying a slow death, even though i had the additional ‘apple care’ warranty. 

be that as it may, tonight, as i languish in my lazy-boy chatting with my geranium, i realize that i’m really not in a rush. and a voice inside my head keeps whispering: ‘i told you so, you idiot.’

my wild day out and about.

it was one of those days when the lock-down stay-at-home shxt felt less like self-isolation and more like self-flagellation. so i decided, fuggit, i’m gonna go crazy, wild and free. yeah that’s right: i went to the tim hortons drive-through. 

the young lady wearing clear plastic gloves at the window was super nice, seemed genuinely happy to see me. i felt for a moment as though i may have known her. and i enjoyed that coffee tremendously, probably because i didn’t make it. as i sat in the truck drinking and munching, i watched a fellow slowly drive by on a lawn-tractor, along the highway. he looked utterly unconcerned, his almost clownish lack of speed no issue at all: just moved along, as much right to be there as the trucks whizzing by or the granite boulders behind. 

i crumpled the bag, with the unfinished remains of whatever that was, threw it on the passenger-side floor and started the engine. as heart-stopping an experience as tim’s was, i felt like carrying on down into the village, to take a look around, go for a walk. 

there was an old guy, heavy plaid jacket and dark jeans, bent over collecting water at the spring with a younger guy waiting patiently from a respectful distance. the old guy looked around to see a reassuring gesture from the other. river road was mostly deserted, but someone waved nonchalantly as i passed, and then another. 

as i walked along burnside an acquaintance came out from the side of his house. while we chatted both of his sons came out to join and their cat couldn’t have cared less about the two hockey-stick rule. he or she rubbed up against my ankle as i bent to give a scratch. 

i wondered, while walking on, why i’d thought of those guys as acquaintances when clearly we were friends, happy to see each other again after so long. a kid rode up on a bike, made a circle around me smiling before wheeling off down the street. houses were quiet for the most part, peaceful. two or three folks in their yards along the way turned to wave, each wave a declaration of solidarity. 

i drove up to farrelton to see a buddy. we sat on opposite sides of his front porch talking seriously, seriously laughing and i noticed a deer in the field on my way out. the highway was strangely quiet as i headed back toward the end of my wild day. 

the pandemic’s been a helluva lot harder so far elsewhere, has robbed many of hope. still, as one ages, living in the moment takes on a greater significance, and that’s not at all bad. the future’s tremendously uncertain. hey, it may even be a better world. we can hope. 

what is certain, however, is that strangers have become acquaintances, acquaintances have become friends. and friends have always really been family.

“we have heard that we must love one another. but why? why must i love everyone? simply, because the reality is oneness. from the lowest worm that crawls under our feet to the largest creature that lives, all have various bodies, but are in fact one life.” Swami Vivekananda,

The Power of Love.

This simple meditation technique is close to my heart. In fact, it's close to everyones heart. Here's how it goes: 

Sit comfortably, close your eyes and just think about a person you‘ve loved with all your heart. Dwell upon that person, or even that pet, you have been most enamored of, most attached to, the being whose presence you have most treasured. Even if he, she or it is physically no longer in your life, even if the memory causes you pain, don't turn your thoughts away from the very real love. Just think about that beloved being.

Then, after a few moments, let go of the thought of that person or being and put your attention simply on the feeling. Feel the feeling. Dwell upon the feeling, that intense and beautiful love. Because the feeling existed long before the object of your love came in front of your eyes and other senses. Slowly then, follow the feeling to its source deep within you. Recognize that heart-space within you. The feeling and that space have always been there. Dwell upon the feeling within that space.

Eventually, after a while, you can envision that space to be like a pond that, when a pebble is tossed onto it, causes ripples. Imagine those ripples, those vibrations, spreading throughout your body. Envision with your mind’s-eye those vibrations of love flooding your system with all that goodness. Feel the life-sustaining, healing power of love spreading throughout your own body. 

You can dwell upon the feeling within that place, that heart-space, for as long as you wish: a minute, twenty minutes. And you can envision the force of your love and affection vibrating to every part of your own self. And you can also envision the power of your love and affection vibrating beyond: to embrace your beloved, your family, friends, your community, and back. 

When you’re done, wipe your hands together, gently over your eyes. Then get up and make yourself a nice cup of coffee or tea. 

does that make sense?

I bought an empty can of paint
The colour wasn’t right
Without a brush to paint things with
One wall took half the night.’ Alex Braun.

it would seem that i’ve now deteriorated to the point of watching day-time television. yes, at two-thirty in the afternoon, wearing my favourite pair of underpants and nibbling crackers, i watched ‘the marvellous mrs. maisel’.

in my own defence, of course, i‘ll do what any privileged, self-aggrandizing old white guy would do. i’ll place the blame elsewhere, anywhere else actually. the reason i’ve now become so degenerated as to be watching day-time television is due to amazon. if that doesn’t entirely do it for you, then i’ll throw in xplornet. in fact, this is the fault of globalization in general. i’m the victim here.

that’s exactly why i love haikus, fanciful verses such as mr. braun’s, or koans like: ‘what’s the sound of one well-washed hand clapping?’ it encourages one to think. it may not make sense, may even make one crazy. however, it may also make one think outside the proverbial box. it may even precipitate one unraveling a greater truth about the world or oneself. hey, it’s gotta be as good as trying to make sense out of what’s goin on in this reality. and i believe that’s the point.

does it make sense that, right in the midst of reading about the horrible scurge plaguing the earth, with hundreds of thousands suffering in various ways, that the article is interrupted with: ‘here’s why so many astronauts have owned chevrolet corvettes’. so, since this oft-repeated so-called ‘unprecedented time’ has forced me to purchase certain necessities on-line, such as refrigerator magnates, decorative duct tape and a murder-mystery novel, it behooved me to join ‘amazon prime’. at least it seemed like a good idea at the time. because then i’d allegedly have free delivery, free audio-books and be able to stream videos for free. it’s all free free free, with my monthly payment. what could possibly go wrong(?) that was a rhetorical question. 

well, almost immediately after spending my father’s hard-earned money i discovered that the items are quite often quite over-priced, the books are quite always not free at all and my internet here in st. cecelia de masham is quite crappy, in spite of my paying top dollar. it cannot quite handle streaming videos from prime, at least not during the evenings. which brings us right back to day-time viewing. 

“Last night I saw upon the stair
A little man who wasn’t there
He wasn’t there again today
Oh how I wishe he’d go away.” Hughes Mearns.

does this world make sense? is there a deeper meaning? amazon will not ship ‘tylenol extra strength’ to quebec because it’s illegal. one needs a prescription in quebec. amazon will send along the regular-strength tablets. so i guess our great leaders and law-makers collectively assumed us folk so simple-minded we wouldn’t figger out that we could simply take one-and-a-half ‘regular strength tylenol’ tablets if we wanted a little extra strength. ok, actually a friend pointed that out to me.

be that as it may, does it make any possible sense to cut funding to the world health organization, whose sole purpose is to ‘direct international health within the united nations' system and to lead partners in global health responses’, right smack dab in the midst of the worst pandemic of our lifetime? of course not. but, blame had to be shifted and i had to watch my program. i highly recommend it, by the way. 

“In a wonderland they lie, 
Dreaming as the days go by, 
Dreaming as the winters die. 
Ever drifting down the stream,
Lingering in the golden gleam,
What is life but a dream?” Lewis Carroll.

the tangibleness of nothing.

sometimes i honestly feel as though i’ve nothing to say, nothing to write. and having mentioned as much to my buddy alex this morning, during an exchange of texts, he suggested i then write about nothing, the tangibleness of nothing. that made me smile of course. this is a guy who reads voraciously and has done silent retreats, he fixes engines and builds furniture. and yet he gives me full credit for knowing something important about ‘nothing’.

i was quick, however, to point out that every tom, dick and hari-anand seem especially eager these days to communicate their great knowledge. “yeah, that’s true,” alex retorted. “however, i’m pretty sure their nothing looks a lot different than your nothing. and even if nothing is nothing, their description of it will have quite a different feel.” that did it for me. i committed to giving it a try, a little later. because right then it was time for me to, well, do nothing for a while.

after doing nothing for a while i shuffled on outside to shoot a few basketballs at my driveway hoop. a young lady who lives down the street walked by and said she wished she had a hoop on her driveway. she was bored. so of course i told her she’d be welcome to use mine from time to time. i even suggested that i could bring out one of my old balls for her to play with exclusively. the lady looked quite doubtful so i assured her that there was still a lot of life left in my old balls and anyway i could pump them up. 

of course it took me longer than it should’ve to realize my mistake. judging by her expression, and as our social-distancing seemed to increase exponentially, i perceived that maybe she didn’t even know how to play basketball. she maybe had just been making idle conversation. anyway, she beetled off down the street and i went inside to write a few lines about nothing in particular.

this being easter sunday, i wanted to consider the deeper significance of the resurrection, specifically as it might pertain to the idea of nothing or nothingness. but i knew that could be tricky and i’m always afraid of offending people. the fear lasted about a minute before i concluded that it was much more important to be candid. it’s my blog afterall, and my interpretations may indeed, as alex mentioned, have a different feel. you see, as much as the crucifixion to my mind is alot about nothing, so to is the resurrection alot about its tangible results.

when one decides to stop, to effectively do nothing, to meditate, one is essentially and immediately sacrificing ones personal identity. one is essentially letting go of who and what one has thought oneself to be. and inevitably a time comes when one rises up again but with a very new and additional sense, that one just may also be the very life itself that permeates and animates everyone, everything. then a daily practice of being nothing actually creates a sense of being everything.

the question begs asking: what does all of this have to do with the price of fish today? or would one be able to simply produce a bunch miraculously? in other words, what is the tangibleness of nothing? 

the only really miraculous power is the power to love unconditionally. and, while the world’s great philosophies and religions preach about oneness, the practice of meditation creates the visceral experience of it. then if someone, let’s just imagine, falls ill with a virus, one hates it and intrinsically wants to help. because it’s just a bit more as though one is helping ones own self.

“in the stillness of your presence, you can feel your own formless and timeless reality as the life that animates your physical form. you can then feel the same life deep within every other human and every other creature. you look beyond the veil of form and separation. this is the realization of oneness. this is love.” ekhart tolle.

stranger times.

waking up at ten in the evening last night was strange. waking up at ten in the evening in my truck with the seat fully reclined was even stranger. but that’s just the kind of times we’re living in right now. earlier, i was gonna go shopping so i got dressed. it was exciting. going to the grocery store right now is the pandemic equivalent of attending a concert at the troubadour. 

“love is like a beautiful flower that i may not see, but whose fragrance makes the garden a place of delight.” helen keller.

dressing for the store was strange as well. i changed my clothes twice before leaving the house. i wanted to look good, but i also wanted to be comfortable. i felt like going dark, but i thought i should go light. none of that was the strange part. to be honest, looking good at this point, well, anyway i dressed comfortably, and i went dark. i still thought i looked reasonable. 

“i try to keep in my mind the simple question: am i trying to do good or make myself look good.” bramachari direndra.

the strange part was that i never actually got out of the truck. i phoned ahead and a very young, very kind and lovely girl from the store did the actual shopping. she simply tossed the stuff in the back, i drove home and immediately changed back into my pyjamas. it was eleven in the morning. strange. i don’t exactly wear pyjamas, by the way. they’re more like very fluffy yoga pants with a camouflage motif. they’re spectacularly ugly of course but almost indecently comfortable. but these are strange times. 

“the best thing to hold onto in this life is each other.” audrey hepburn.

in days gone by, when one friend or another talked to me about anxiety and even depression, i would always say that it’s the intelligent, sensitive folks who suffer that way. i’m no psychologist. that’s just something i believe. these days, anxiety and even depression is pretty pervasive. one would need to be rather unintelligent and quite insensitive to not feel some level of all that. as it happens, i’ve been called both unintelligent and insensitive many times in my life, but that’s another story. 

“love seeketh not itself to please, nor for itself hath any care, but for another gives its ease, and builds a heaven in hell's despair.” william blake

it nevertheless behooves each of us, as it has at all strange times throughout history, as during all times always, to find our way through with a sense of decorum, grace, strength and even beauty. i haven’t any great secret, only i doubt it has much to do with when we sleep, what we wear or how much bathroom tissue we have.

“in the flush of love's light, we dare be brave. and suddenly we see that love costs all we are, and will ever be. yet it is only love which sets us free.” maya angelou

the question.

lots of folks, good folks, have been posting lots of stuff, good stuff. lots of folks have been posting good stuff, uplifting and enlightening stuff. i just wanna ask a question: have you been practicing?

it’s the question that burns in my heart and begs an answer. have you been practicing? but practicing what, you may ask? have you been practicing letting go? that’s the question. have you been practicing letting go? because that’s all that matters as far as i can tell, which may not be too damn far. but it’s all i’ve got. you’re brilliant enough to decide if it’s more than enough.

there’s no way i can sermonize, philosophize or even conjecture-ize. well i could, of course. only i don’t have religion, nirvana, kayvalya, not that i know of. i don’t even have tremendous faith. i got nothing except i been practicing. and letting go feels alright. that doesn’t hurt, doesn’t scare or make my lower half shake rattle and roll. that feels alright, more than alright as a matter of fact. there’s no way i can speak about the meaning of life or its purpose with great authority. only i’ve been practicing for a while now. and i don’t know why, but letting go feels alright. i do not know why, but that sure feels alright. so i gotta ask: have you been practicing? because sooner or later we all gotta let go.

lots of folks, good folks, are trying to help. they talk or write as though they know something and sometimes like they know a heckuva lot. sometimes they talk or write like they know it all. ok. who am i to say they do or they don’t(?) i’m just not that guy. i’m the guy asking simply: have you been practicing?

all dressed up and nowhere to go.

“although the world is full of suffering, it is also full of the overcoming of suffering.” helen keller.

it felt good to throw off my pyjama bottoms finally yesterday and put on some jeans, the nicely faded ones. i paid extra for that faded look but they’re classic. it took me a while to decide upon what coat to use. i wanted to wear my heavy red lumber-jack shirt. it was equally classic and i hadn’t worn it for a long time, only really it was still just a bit too cold outside. i looked over my choices until i grabbed the one my buddy calls the ‘goin to church’ coat. it’s a sombre grey three-quarter-length affair that i felt struck the right note. lastly, i chose my tinted glasses and dark blue baseball cap. of course i did not actually come across another human on my walk. 

it kinda reminded me of my old parents. while they were still ‘with us’ my folks lived on the fifth floor of a building at the highest point of north toronto. there was always a wind, always. i called it ‘the howling void.’ and my main job, almost immediately upon arrival, was to take them out for lunch at their favourite restaurant. 

the two of them would huddle around their computer first to look at the weather report. they wouldn’t ask me or go onto their balcony. i doubt very much they even looked out the window. my dad always fumbled with the zipper of his heavy coat and always refused my help. mom would slowly lovingly get on her huge dark brown fur coat. several creatures had clearly sacrificed their lives for her elegant comfort, but i like to think she was grateful. 

once boots were on, hats chosen and dad had his cane, we’d walk slowly along the hall and into the elevator. we’d go down to the heated garage, to their big old car that i’d drive. dad would tell me to turn right here then left over there, he’d direct me where to park in the heated underground lot and then we’d take the elevator up into the mall. we never actually ever stepped outside. 

i’ve heard that relationships are crumbling due to the isolation. personally, i’m ok on my own, have enough food and plenty of toilet paper. some people joke about other peoples’ obsession with the stuff, but i don’t. i recall as a young lad, on a camping trip, using leaves that turned out to be poison ivy. 

i  almost took my pyjama pants off today, but really why(?) 

the dawn blessed day.

the mornings these days don’t simply dawn, they welcome us, unfold and invite us in with a greeting that’s almost an embrace. i suppose they’ve always done that. perhaps many of us have been taking the mornings, like so many other aspects of the life, for granted. not now, not these mornings.

even before first light there seems to be an awakening of new hope each time. even before one opens ones eyes there seems to be an appreciation for the grand opening about to occur. because it’s happened already within us. if we haven’t lived in the moment or understood the concept we do now, these days, these mornings.

an absolute bliss consciousness opens, unfolds, awakens, dawns: dawn, blessed day your light to show. ever bright we hope you be. every moment of peace we trust you know. every moment of time we want thee. the darkness may seem the way, until dawn, blessed day the light you show. and every moment of peace we begin to know, each hour of time we wait for thee. dawn, clearest pure light, only you can save us. dispeller of the dim bleak night, bringing dawn the life you gave us.

the mornings these days don’t simply dawn, they welcome us, unfold and invite us in with a greeting that’s almost an embrace. i suppose they’ve always done that. perhaps many of us have been taking the mornings, like so many other aspects of the life, for granted. not now, not these mornings. 

the question.

lots of folks, good folks, have been posting lots of stuff, good stuff. lots of folks have been posting good stuff, uplifting and enlightening stuff. i just wanna ask a question: have you been practicing?

it’s the question that burns in my heart and begs an answer. have you been practicing? but practicing what, you may ask? have you been practicing letting go? there’s the question. have you been practicing letting go? because that’s all that matters as far as i can tell, which may not be too damn far. but it’s all i’ve got. you’re brilliant enough to decide if it’s more than enough.

there’s no way i can sermonize, philosophize or even conjecture-ize. well i could, of course. only i don’t have religion, nirvana, kayvalya, not that i know of. i don’t even have tremendous faith. i got nothing except i been practicing. and letting go feels alright. that doesn’t hurt, doesn’t scare or make my lower half shake rattle and roll. that feels alright, more than alright as a matter of fact. there’s no way i can speak about the meaning of life or its purpose with great authority. only i’ve been practicing for a while now. and i don’t know why, but letting go feels alright. i do not know why, but that sure feels alright. so i gotta ask: have you been practicing? because sooner or later we all gotta let go.

lots of folks, good folks, are trying to help. they talk or write as though they know something and sometimes like they know a heckuva lot. sometimes they talk or write like they know it all. ok. who am i to say they do or they don’t(?) i’m just not that guy. i’m the guy asking simply: have you been practicing?

the truth unmasked.

pandemics are nasty affairs, no doubt about that. they’re disruptive, scary, freaky, even deadly. what happened to the days when all we had to deal with were good old-fashioned epidemics. i pine for those simpler times. 

that being said, i must add that there’s one aspect of pandemics: h1n1, corona or whatever, that irks me most of all. obviously i’m not into sickness, suffering and death. but, i really do not like those masks. for one thing it’s not a good look. people wearing surgical masks look uncool. and they’re uncomfortable, inconvenient and kinda scary looking. are they even legal in quebec?

i recently read an open letter written by a virologist to a local community group listing the recommended preventative measures to take. the letter, of course, strongly suggested incessant hand-washing, openning doors with your elbows, avoiding ones own face, keeping disinfectant hand-wipes available at all times. we used to call that ‘obsessive compulsive disorder.’ it turns out ocd folks were right and we’re the ones with issues. and, of course, then there are those masks. 

they say that mostly the old people are dying, and mostly old men, which is odd. because for the most part we’re already in self-quarantine. and i suspect others take great solace in knowing they’ll probably survive. of course, people already with underlying health problems may not feel so relaxed. but, maybe this is some sort of naturally-occurring form of eugenics, a way to slow down over-population, the creative intelligence saving the planet from climate change. 

whatever may be the case, as far as i’m concerned if the choice ends up being death or the wearing of a mask at all times, well, i’ll have to think about it for a bit. anyway, they’re no longer available and my papers are in order.