Spring Snow in Boulder

Mist shouds the Flatirons after a spring rain turned to snow last night in Boulder. Earth, plants, trees soak up the moisture thirstily--it has been so dry for so long in Colorado and the previous 18 inches of snow a little over a week ago had pretty much melted. I'm always grateful for snow and rain after memories of one terrible summer of drought when we used "gray water" collected from the bathtub after showers to water the flowers and watched our lawn die. Water is one of the essential life forces and should never be taken for granted. Water is gentle, yet strong.

"Water is fluid, soft, and yielding. But water will wear away rock, which is rigid and cannot yield. As a rule, whatever is fluid, soft, and yielding will overcome whatever is rigid and hard. This is another paradox: what is soft is strong." - Lao-Tzu (600 B.C.)

Thinking

Are you thinking of telephones
And managers and where you have to be at noon
You are living a reality
I left years ago, it quite nearly killed me
In the long run, it will make you cry
Make you crazy, old before your time…

Stephen Stills

We visit the Boulder Shambhala Meditation Center to attend the “Beginner’s Class.” This center for Buddhist studies was started in the 70’s by Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche, and we are fortunate to have it in our hometown.

Sitting with our bottoms firmly planted on the red meditation cushions with the yellow squares in the middle along with the other beginners, we are instructed to focus on the breath, in and out, and when a thought intervenes to lightly touch it and acknowledge it as “thinking,” then bring the focus back to our breathing again and again.

Easier said than done, as endless neurotic thoughts invade my consciousness about work people at work failures at work and elsewhere various aches pains tickles and twitches as well as what I will have for lunch and whether barbecued ribs would be a bad thing from the Buddhist point of view and also what nice posture the younger people sitting in the front rows have compared to my own crookedness oops that is a judgment and they told me I shouldn’t judge (hah!)…

It is extraordinary how difficult it is to focus only on my breathing for any length of time at all, and to lightly let go of each thought as a feather would lightly touch a bubble. We also try walking meditation at one point, where we focus on our feet rather than breath and walk slowly in a circle around our meditation cushions. I nearly lose my balance and fall during this exercise as though I have suddenly forgotten how to walk.

Still, the respite from constant thought is a worthy experience to seek, and I will continue to practice.

Chop Wood, Carry Water: A Meditation on Cleaning House

Before enlightenment; chop wood, carry water. After enlightenment; chop wood, carry water.

Zen Proverb

Today I cleaned house. It’s something I have been lucky enough not to have to do in a long time, given the division of labor we usually live under in my household. It took me three hours to scrub two bathrooms, clean a kitchen, and dust and vaccum a family room, living room, hallway and bedroom. I got a pretty good workout and my body is sore.

I took the opportunity to meditate on this simple set of activities. One thing for sure about cleaning a house—you can tell you’re making progress, and you can look around once you’re done and revel in a certain satisfaction that your mission has for the most part been accomplished. Perhaps after all there exist a few things over which you have a modicum of control and there’s something comforting in that.

I noticed where my mind went while housecleaning today—a mild resentment at having to do these chores normally done by somebody else who is too sick to do them right now, and then the gentle reminder to myself of how many times these chores have been done on my behalf over many years with perhaps not enough real appreciation on my part. I noticed: the satisfaction in scrubbing the kitchen floor and repeatedly rinsing the dirty water down the drain; the incredible mess a corner poinsetta makes as it sheds some of its lower leaves onto the living room carpet; the pervasiveness of cat hair in unexpected corners. I tried to be present all through the process, and that made it seem like a new experience somehow, rather than drudgery. Have you ever tried noticing each and every sensation as you do something very routine? It can be quite a revelation.

Be Not Afraid

Over the past many weeks I’ve had a severe case of blogger’s block which I am now working to overcome One Word at a Time. During this period I’ve been immobilized by an emotion that actually kept me from eating it was so bad (hardly anything can keep me from eating, more’s the pity). I even was losing weight for awhile. The emotion causing the loss of appetite was creating quite a hellish situation for me, with constant stomach twinges, depression, and more.

I got some time off from work over the Christmas break, and was able to gain enough perspective to realize that the emotion freezing me in my tracks was fear. Fear of the future, fear of failure, fear of the death of my loved ones, fear that people I respect will not respect me back, fear that am not worthy, fear of writing a blog that was boring or full of bullsh*t.

I’ve since been spending a lot of time analyzing this fear, how it lessened with a change of scene and routine, how focusing on the present moment can reduce fear, and how amazing it is to be trapped in your mind without the ability to step back and see how it is churning in unhealthy ways. Fear can keep you from enjoying life, from taking risks, from loving, from blogging. (My rule about my blog, for better or for worse, is that it cannot be personal day-to-day drivel and whining, but instead has to share something that might actually be useful or interesting to multiple other people. Normally this rule has not kept me silent, but clearly recently it has.)

Winston Churchill said: “When I look back on all these worries, I remember the story of the old man who said on his deathbed that he had had a lot of trouble in his life, most of which had never happened.”

So, here are my top 10 ways to stop being afraid:

10. Recognize that it is fear you’re feeling, and then try to articulate what it is that you fear.
9. Delve into the fear; take it to its ridiculous extreme. See the distortions and exaggerations in the fear.
8. Exposure yourself at every opportunity to the thing or activity you fear. Immersion in the fear will cause it eventually to lessen (especially good with things like fear of flying, fear of spiders, fear of public speaking).
7. Focus on what is happening right now this minute; be here and now. Look around - is there anything here and now that you fear?
6. Help somebody else with something. It is harder to be afraid when you are focused on helping somebody else.
5. Breathe.
4. Talk to somebody about your fear. When you start saying things out loud sometimes they are less scary.
3. If you have a cat, see if the cat will sit in your lap (they are finicky little things so good luck) and then pet the cat. It is hard to be as afraid when you are petting a cat. Full disclosure: Emily the cat is in my lap right now.
2. Get moving. Take a walk in the sunshine. Work out the fear.
1. Draw on spirit, if you have a spiritual focus. Consider the connectedness of all humans and how many of them are feeling much worse fear and anguish right now than you could possibly be feeling. Be grateful for everything you do have, as you breathe in the fear of all humans, and breathe out the hope that all may experience inner peace.

Do you have fear-bashing techniques I haven’t listed? Feel free to comment.

Greetings to family and friends!

As many of us ponder recent economic events including record job losses, reduction of 401Ks to 201Ks, and bailout demands from various companies claiming to be “too big to fail,” it is easy to overlook the emerging crisis in the North Pole.

The Elves Employee Kollective (EEK) is not willing to concede previous agreements with management for lifetime pensions (a costly ongoing obligation considering that elves have an average life span of 800 years). Santa’s failure to move more quickly in modernizing the workshop and retooling for the 21st century as well as his persistent reliance on fossil fuel as his only reindeer supplement for sleigh power have resulted in a North Pole balance sheet at the end of the year that remains in the red – and that is not a festive red, my friends.

One solution is a huge NPB (North Pole Bailout) - but the bah humbug US Senate is digging its heels in on that one. Our only hope now is a visitation from three ghosts:

FDR, The Ghost of Christmas Past (with a “New Deal” and the assurance that the only thing we have to fear is fear itself…)

GWB, The Ghost of Christmas Present (when disaster strikes, “shop ‘til you drop for the USA”) and

BHO, The Ghost of Christmas Future (“hope that seems more and more audacious every day”)

Meanwhile, we are grateful for all we still have here in Boulder, Colorado. Caitlin is completing her junior year at CU, doing extremely well in organic chemistry and studying like mad for her Calculus final. She is hoping to shadow a doctor at the People’s Clinic over the break to see what that is like and is signed up for volunteer work at an AIDS clinic in San Francisco over spring break. Shannon is returning to CU after a year in the Real World working at the Boulder Café, and expects to complete his degree in Integrative Physiology in a couple of semesters. In his spare time he loves bouldering at a climbing gym called the Spot. Mark and I managed to finally replace the appalling and ancient green awning over our front porch with a new and better porch that wears the Christmas lights well I think.

We join Dr. Seuss and the Grinch in the sentiment that, despite any material disappointments this season: “Maybe Christmas doesn’t come from a store. Maybe Christmas…perhaps…means a little bit more.” From all of us to all of you – a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

Mark, Lynn, Shannon and Caitlin

Of Rocky Roads and Electric Sheep

Over Labor Day weekend awhile back Cait and I hiked up to Blue Lake. It felt great—even though the 6-mile round trip had me hobbling and begging for a hot tub the next day. The rocky, steep terrain reminded me of a novel I finished recently by one of the finest science fiction writers of all time, Philip K. Dick, called “Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?"

It is the basis for the movie “Bladerunner,” but is quite different from the movie. In a world that has barely survived a multi-world war, most of Earth’s population has been bribed into migrating to other planets to survive. Only a few humans remain on Earth including the main character, a bounty hunter named Rick Deckard who tracks down and “kills” renegade androids. The androids are manufactured so skillfully that it is quite difficult to tell them from humans. The bounty hunter administers empathy tests to force androids to reveal themselves, since technology has not advanced to the point where they can be taught the most human of traits, empathy.

Meanwhile, there are so few animals left on earth that they are greatly prized as pets, and the less fortunate must settle for android animals. Our hero has a sheep and keeps it a secret from his neighbors that the sheep is not real, but an android. Throughout the novel we’re kept guessing about who and what is an android, and who is “real”—we even begin to suspect Deckard at times. Earth is bleak, polluted and radioactive, so humans derive some comfort from a device in every home that, when grasped by its handles, plunges them into a shared dream in which a man named Wilbur Mercer trudges endlessly up a rocky trail. (You were wondering how this would end up relating to a rocky trail, weren’t you?). In this way all share in Mercer’s feelings and travail as he endlessly climbs up the trail in his attempts to escape the “tomb world,” fending off the occasional rock thrown at him from above. Mercer is also said to have been able to heal animals at one time, a sacred ability given the high value placed on the few animals still remaining on Earth. As a result there is a religion of sorts called Mercerism. Eventually the androids discover and reveal a terrible truth about the genuineness of Mercerism, and those who believe are put to the test. But perhaps faith and empathy are stronger than we thought?

Walking up a rocky mountain trail not unlike the one I imagined Mercer to have climbed in the novel, I pondered all of this and tried to explain it to a perplexed Cait between short breaths as we climbed higher and higher. Is empathy a true test of what it means to be human, and if someone doesn’t feel empathy does that mean they are less human?

Check out the book if you haven’t read it—it’s fascinating. PKD wrote it in 1968 and it is amazing how relevant it still is today.

Golden Aspens on the Colorado Trail

Mark and I traveled 285 up to Kenosha Pass to hike the Colorado Trail last Saturday with the aspens at their peak. The trail gave us glorious vistas over a high mountain plain with patches of golden aspens, distant peaks, and storm clouds rolling over all so that the light on the plain was dappled dark and light.

The intermittent sunlight made the gold-green aspens glow in an almost otherworldly way—the groves looked magical with the trail winding through them almost as though we were on some kind quest to Middle Earth to visit the Elves in Valinor. As usual my camera didn’t really capture the true splendor of it all, but I try.