Body Buddhism

I was describing to a friend today about how I've started using mindfulness, nonattachment, and principles of Buddhism and mediation in ordinary, daily activities. 

For example, when I get into bed at night I focus on my breathing. I imagine the oxygen molecules coming in through my nostrils and traveling through my nose down into my trachea. I “watch” them entering my lungs and making their way down into my alveoli. From there I observe them exchanging with carbon dioxide returning from my body. I watch as my blood cells pick up the molecules and deliver the fresh oxygen to all parts of my body. 

When I eat I “see” the saliva in my mouth making contact with the food I'm chewing. I feel its presence as it moves down my esophagus and entering into my stomach. I watch as my stomach enzymes begin breaking the food down even further, preparing it for my small intestine. There I watch as the broken down food enters my body, providing nourishment and energy. 

When I workout I imagine the cells of the muscle contracting and relaxing, working in tandem to achieve the repetition. Each rep a harmonious, coordinated dance of my body's muscle working together to achieve a goal. 

Recently I had a particularly nasty chest cold. It was almost impossible to breathe. My chest felt like it was full of cotton that wouldn't budge, and I was sore from all the coughing. During meditation sessions during the day and at night in my sleep I imagined each individual cold virus to be a tiny Brillo pad, a scratchy, ugly irritant that didn't belong in me. Then I would watch as the elements of my immune system engulfed and destroyed each one.

As I do each of these meditations on my body I talk to my body. Literally. “Accept this fresh oxygen in the spirit it is being given.” Or, “Please use this healthy food in the best way you know how.” During workouts I encourage my muscle cells as I'm watching them, “Push! Pull! Feel us all working together!” And as for my illness, “Immune system, please use your abilities to help rid me of this infection.”

Does all that work? Maybe. Maybe not. The point is that it has helped me to have a much stronger relationship with my body and my mind. After describing all this to my friend this morning, he he came up with a fantastic name for it: Body Buddhism. I can't get the phrase out of my head as it describes perfectly what I've been trying to put a name to. Body Buddhism brings a deeper harmony to me that only gets better the more I practice it. 

Judith Light

"You need to stop seeking and be curious. Who are you? What kind of life are you going to have? How are you going to be in the world? How do you want people to see you? Are you kind, are you generous, are you available to people?...Yes, those are the things that create great value."
– Judith Light

Mom, Birthdays, Memories, and Life Lessons

Today is my mom's birthday. She would be 77 years old today. There's not a day that goes by that I don't miss my mom. I was afraid at first to get back to living life after she passed away 3 years ago. I thought somehow I was betraying her memory and her end-of-life struggles if I was living my life and making the most of it. With time that notion faded, but it will always be with me.

There are days where I come up on what I call the "Emotional Crater." It's the gaping hole that the loss of a loved one leaves in your life. I imagine it to be like a mowing the lawn. Strange as this may sound it makes sense to me. Before, the lawn was smooth and even. No bumps, no holes, no obstacles to getting the lawn mowed. After, there's a huge crater smack-dab in the middle of the lawn. Now you have to figure a way to incorporate that hole into your every day task of mowing. It's inconvenient, it slows you down sometimes, and it can be down right irritating. But you keep going on with your task. You learn to live with the hole, because ignoring it won't make it go away.

In life my mom taught me so many life lessons that can't have a value placed on them. And in death she taught me life lessons I will carry with me the rest of my days as well. My mom was looking at a surgical procedure that had, at best, a 2 percent chance of success. At that point she had spent the last 5 to 10 years weathering the stress and strain of various procedures to help improve her condition. By  then she was tired. She just didn't want the pain and struggle anymore. She turned to my dad and said she was tired and she wanted to go home. Whether it was home for a day, a week, a month, or some undetermined amount of time, she just wanted to go home. She wanted to be surrounded by family and friends without machines, doctors, nurses, procedures, or being poked, prodded, or cut on anymore. My mom's last 2 months were filled with dignity. She dictated to death how she had decided she was going to go. Death was not going to have the final say in her life. So in her final days she was completely free and liberated to live exactly how she wanted to live. That's a life lesson she taught me without knowing it that I will never forget. Her bravery, acceptance, and serenity with the end of her life was a kind of unique strength and faith I don't know if many could embrace.

So Happy Birthday to you, Mom Thank you for always loving me unconditionally and always teaching me how to live life in the fullest way possible. You were and are the best mother a guy could ever ask for. 

How To Live Forever

Never forget to always be kind.

Tools of Conquest

“The tools of conquest do not necessarily come with bombs and explosions and fallout. There are weapons that are simply thoughts, attitudes, prejudices - to be found only in the minds of men. For the record, prejudices can kill and suspicion can destroy, and a thoughtless, frightened search for a scapegoat has a fallout all its own - for the children and the children yet unborn. And the pity of it is that these things cannot be confined to The Twilight Zone.”

— Closing narration: “The Monsters Are Due on Maple Street”, Twilight Zone episode aired March 4, 1960

(Thanks to Dan Hagen for the quote!)

Jealous Criticism

I read some of the best advice I've ever heard the other day. 
"People will hate the things in you they are lacking in themselves."

I had to think about that a bit, but I finally got my brain around it and it made complete sense. 

People who dislike the fact that I'm silly too much of the time secretly wish they could be that carefree. Most people's criticism comes from jealousy. 

Random Life Thought

I don't know about you, but it seems the older I get the less important a good many things are. 12-step groups talk about "people, places, and things" a lot. The stuff that clutters our reality. There's so much of that I could just walk away from importance-wise and never look back. I wouldn't hesitate for one single second. I'm becoming like that with some friendships as well. Some I couldn't imagine NOT having in my life, and others I could care less. I think as we grow older our lives don't get whittled down, I think it's that we streamline ourselves out of the bullshit. We cut all the crud away for the gem of a life we've always strived for.

The Pacific Northwest

There‘s something about the PNW that I find calming. My deeper mindful spirit and sense of presence is always stronger here. I always feel more in touch with the better parts of myself. The PNW has a hint of mystical to it that permeates everything. PNW’ers seem to be more in synch with nature and its power to keep people centered in a kind of natural spiritual groove. I like this and it suits me well.

Sunrise

It's 6.13am as I'm writing this and it's already been an incredible day. I woke at 4am this morning, made my first cup of coffee and sat in the quiet watching the sun come up and begin lighting the buildings across the street. Early morning has always been my favorite time of the day. It's quiet and peaceful, and I feel more present than any other moment of the day. Watching the sun come up in the serenity of early morning is a secret anyone can be in on.