Archive for the ‘Meditation’ Category

Embracing my angry self

I scream

I yell

I retort

I explain

I argue

Embracing my depressed self

I cry

I sleep

I hide

I die

I shiver

Embracing my Buddha self

I witness

I observe

I feel

I meditate

I forgive

Embracing my non-self

I exist

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Statue of a sitting Buddha with a vase of orange lilies.


*This photo taken by my mom. Click to view the full image.

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I have a little secret desire. No one knows it. No family, no friends, no virtual friends, not my therapist, nor my Dr. I will tell you what it is though, gentle reader. Here it is: I want to melt into oblivion. I want this Life to end, I also want this Death to end, I want it all to end. I am a flawed flawed human being, who does the best she can every moment, every day, and suffers, because in the end it’s my own attachment, my desire to not accept things as they are. Buddha knew. Life has suffering built into it. The origin of suffering is attachment. It is possible to end this suffering. They way to do that is the Eightfold path, a middle way. (no extremism) I’ve been walking that path the best I can, with what capacity I have. I am tired though, I want to lie down under a tree in the shadow, take deep breaths, and merge into nothingness. I want Nirvana, the Ultimate Reality, the True Freedom.

I want to dive from a tall mountain into a valley and disappear, as though I never existed, and never will.

Is suicide another path out?

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I am shivering in the cold.

May I open your skin, crawl inside, wrap you around my body like a warm blanket?

I can hear the content in your voice, the Happiness.

It sickens me.


Why did you not choose me?

I am happy. For you.

Fly away.

Last night I listened to Ajahn Brahm’s dharma talk on Love. He said, most times when people think they love someone, they actually love the way that person makes them feel. He gave this little example. If you truly loved your partner and s/he  runs away with the milkman, you should be very happy. I mean, isnt’ that love? That you want them to be happy? Well, now they are happy! Instead, you would probably not be happy at all. Why is that? Because you want them to be with you. But what if being with the milkman is what makes them happy? I thought, well, I’m not angry that S has chosen someone else. So, I’m okay. I truly do love S. Then it occured to me that I may not be angry but I sure am deeply sad. And why should that be? Isn’t it because I wanted him to choose me? Instead he chose someone else. If I truly love him, then I should be happy. I look within. I am happy that he is happy. I am also sad. I suppose I truly love him and also love the way I feel when he was around me.

Now, the possibility is gone.

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I dedicate this human birth to the goal of nirvana.

Oh, suffering, I bow to you today.

You have lead me to seek the ultimate reality.

Nirvana on a householder’s path, nirvana on a renunciate’s path,

two boats rowing toward the same shore.

Been sitting in the first boat, want to sit in the other one now.

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I am sure it was synchronicity. A while back, Ajahn Brahm visited my city and I went to the dharma center to hear him talk. It was profound, yet simple. I stayed on past midnight, along with a few others, drinking in Ajahn’s words. This man, this monk – I feel pulled toward him into his field. I listen to his dharma talks online, I look to see where in the world he is and if by chance I may get to see him again. Some old karma of ours pulls me toward him. I feel in him a connection as though he’s my true teacher in this life.

(Ajahn Brahm is the abbott of a monastery in Australia. More information here http://www.bswa.org )

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My pain is others’ pain, theirs’ mine.
Bowed to a baby deer, s/he bowed to me,
was scared but didn’t run,
we were both in the present moment.

My sandal broke, one I love.
Beginning middle end.
Lost my scrunchie on the walk.
Beginning middle end.

(From my paper journal; written at Spirit Rock Meditation Center in Woodacre, CA)

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Going into Retreat

Silence will prevail for a week, and I want words, sentences, conversations for now, to tide me over. Can I handle so much silence? Can I handle so much me?
One moment at a time. The anxiety of waiting for a bus, and then a cab. Where is it? It’s late already.
People wait. An overly anxious mother-daughter pair. Two well-dressed middle aged women from opposite coasts who have connected briefly — and then will separate, but right now giggle like best friends. And old woman brought here on a wheelchair, a bit confused, talks to her luggage, says, “Now behave! I don’t have time to argue with you. Close already!” As though the luggage and she are an old married couple!
In the bus now, calm takes over me and everyone else too it seems. We know where we are, where we are going. Ahhh….
Will I fall into a void for five days? Come out on the other end or be swallowed up in the abyss?
The bus driver squints his eyes in the bright California sun.
I find companions to Spirit Rock – two women who will share a cab with me. I smile, them too. Comrades. Fellow meditators and yogis. This will be easy now.
The bus driver who made the sarcastic remark earlier is now awfully nice. His white teeth show under his mustache as he talks, the right molar extra sharp. Was he a bear in a past lifetime? The beary smile makes me feel warm and fuzzy though. A helper, he’ll answer questions happily now. He’s running late, his mistake has made him apologetic and nice.
Oakland is industrial from here. Palm trees pop up — a sure sign I’m in California.
Mountains with patchy bald spots are cropping up.
I remember a conversation with R from last night. He wants a daughter if we ever have children, just like me! I’m delighted, joyous, happy at the thought of our future daughter.
This is the journey. It begins.

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