Swept Away in the Sands of Time

It seems that all creatures have the urge, and indeed the need, to create. Birds build nests for their babies, rabbits dig holes called warrens in which they stash the young'uns, and humans build yurts, igloos, palaces and trailers, to name but a few variations known to mankind.

The need to find protection from the elements - and predators - seems to be universal for all critters inhabiting planet earth. Although we humans view ourselves as "the crown of creation," there are more similarities than differences amongst the species that inhabit our small sphere as it spins in an infinitely large universe.

Tibetan Buddhists have an art form rooted in deep spiritual meaning, the sand mandala. It takes about five monks, working several weeks of long hours, to create a magnificent mandala from colored sand. The detail is exquisite; to an artist a feat beyond majestic.

And yet, at the completion of these gorgeous and intricate creations, the monks say special prayers as they sweep away the sand mandala and pour its contents into a flowing river...a perfect metaphor of our lives.

For most of us, by the time we leave the nest called "our body," we have accumulated many objects and items, tangible and non-tangible. And yet no matter how precious these "things"or "thoughts" are to us, when we leave a.k.a. die, it all gets dispersed - taken apart - disassembled, invisible, like the sand mandala.

No matter how intricate the mandala of our lives, it all dissolves into the flowing river of time and space; an inexorable and never ending cycle of birth, death and rebirth.

Blood Ties That Bind

When people lose a close relative such as a father, mother, sibling, or offspring, typically great sorrow descends upon the surviving relatives. When those same people watch a news report or see firsthand victims of war, accidents, poverty, or sickness, they will also feel an emotion that bespeaks of compassion or a desire to help. But not the overwhelming grief of a family death.

Why is that?

 

The Birds Keep Singing

This lovely day inaugurates summer. Hazy blue skies form a limpid backdrop against the mountaintops - a foreboding sign that the innocent morning breeze will be replaced by simmering hot weather swelter.  

Two hummingbirds adorned in bright orange vie for one petite lilac flower, tumbling through the air at light speed until the victor drives off the weaker of its species. Amidst this mini-drama, a chorus of alto, tenor and soprano birds chortle to the beat of the slowly risen sun.

This multi-layered soundscape is so complex, so diverse, that the chorus of tones form a breathing tapestry of life; protection against the deadly silence of death.

Today the birds are singing; let us listen and rejoice.

It's Not Fair

"It's not fair," is a phrase often used when bad things happen to good people. Although the law of karma has certain obvious qualities that define its movement with certainty (i.e. if you hit a brick wall going 100 mph, you'll get hurt or worse), karma also works in mysterious, inexplicable ways as well.

When my husband was diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer, one of my daughter's mantras, intoned to the rhythm of great sobs, was,  "It's just not fair." It is true that a good man with gifts to share and a family to love should not be taken off the planet, when there are a scarcity of reasonable, intelligent human beings. And yet, if one tries to equate justice with goodness, Lady Liberty will end up standing on her head with her scales askew.

Were I to make a list of the places on this planet where innocent people are murdered, driven from their homes, imprisoned, turned into slaves, or other horrors, it would be a long one. Life is frequently not fair, but the arc of justice prevails in the long run. It's trajectory through time and space may be too long and wide for one person to perceive during his or her lifetime, but the pendulum eventually swings over the center point, at least for a measure of time.

The longer the mind can remain at rest on this center point, the greater the balance between the poles of fair and unfair. From a place of equanimity, our heart ceases to yearn for "fairness" and instead stands firm in a place of gratitude.

The Love of My Life

In the world of human existence, the love of my life is my husband of thirty years. As I write this, he lies upstairs, breathing with the help of oxygen while lung cancer takes its vicious toll.

Fourteen years ago I took a weekend seminar called "Compassion in Action," conceived by Damion Brinkley. He had been struck by lightening and jolted into a death state, with no vital signs for the next 30 minutes. But to the shock of all present, he came back to life, this time with voluminous knowledge of the angelic planes and other realms of Light heretofore unknown to him.

After the seemingly improbable event, this Vietnam War veteran made it his mission to train people to sit with dying veterans in hospitals - choosing the lonely souls with no family or friends except their torn up bodies.

Part of the exercise during this seminar was to imagine, and then write on paper, what it would be like to die - the time, place, circumstance, who would be at your side, and so on. I wrote the imagined details of my passing, lying peacefully in my bedroom with family gathered around. But as my earthly body came to the dividing line between life and death, every single human relation fell away and the Buddha appeared, resplendent in a sunburst of light that seemed to fill all space.

The meaning of "Buddha"  is awakened mind. Whether you name that expanse of being as Buddha, God, Jesus, Allah, Yaweh, Great Spirit, and so on, the real love of my life is the very light that infuses us with consciousness - and the ability to love the human loves of our lives.

Motivation Makes the World Go Round

Motivation is the driving force behind all actions. So what exactly is the mindset that gets us out of bed every morning? What motivates us to do what we do every day?`

It is the ability to see beyond the current moment and envisage a desired outcome. We need a positive "future vision" to spark the current of motivation to pull the future into our present reality. Without the cognition of that which we desire, a gray and dull reality can settle upon us.

And then the purity of a motivation comes into play. Are we motivated by the power of the ego, which needs constant reassurance and reinforcement to justify its position? Are we motivated by love, a desire to give back to the human race? Or any of the infinite combinations and permutations between the two poles...

By studying our motivation - what makes us willing to make effort (or not) -- we can crack the code of our egoistic mindsets and cleanse ourselves of self-serving goals. 

Hospital Hell

For all the wonderful services hospitals provide for the severely sick or injured, one drawback makes a hospital stay hellish.

In prisons, the most effective torture is sleep deprivation (although it seems more innocuous than some of the other horrific techniques). 

Hospitals, like prisons, also ascribe to middle of the night awakenings with sudden loud noises, needles being unsheathed, bright lights shining in eyes accustomed to the dark, and questioning from the authority (nurse) who holds the power to deprive you of water, food, medicine, and bathroom facilities until she feels damned ready to attend to you.

Having just spent the night in a hospital watching over a loved one, I can bear witness. Thankfully, there was a chair for me that converted to a bed albeit it with three different back-twisting levels (derived from the back, seat and footrest sections). Between the needs of the patient and the needs of the staff, I feel like a zombie who barely has the energy to rise from the dead.

But the sun is shining, a strong cup of coffee is on its way, and freedom is only one hour away when the patient will have been processed through the system to be released.