A tall handsome man offered me use of the lower level of his home for my art studio. The space was pristine, high ceilings, clean, white, gigantic! It was more like a museum than a house! He said that I could use it for my art or for anything I wanted.
Just one hitch: I could never leave.
The temptation was obvious but I knew it was a trap. I would have all the time and space for my art making that I could ever dream of but I would be a prisoner there.
Not a good deal.
I decided to be free instead but he was already insisting that I couldn't leave.
We stood in front of a very tall wall covered with images of a heart being squeezed by a hand, the fingernails were puncturing the heart causing it to bleed. I told him confidently that I was going to leave. Again, he insisted that I couldn't leave. I said, "Yes, I can, watch." I proceeded to jump over the wall of bleeding hearts with ease. Somehow I knew I could do it, there was no doubt in my mind. When I was on the other side I said, "See!" He said, "I don't believe it, you didn't, you can't." I said, "I'll show you again." I came back over the wall and easily jumped over it again.
I felt so liberated and joyful, I was free! I wanted to tell everyone how to do it, how to jump over the impossibly high wall of bleeding hearts!
But no one was around. Alone in an abandoned downtown sort of location with graffiti and trash everywhere, I thought to myself, where is everyone? Was I the last one to escape?
Then I woke up.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Sunday, September 25, 2011
The Divine's Response to Artist's Block
I've been negligent in my writing duties as of late. I haven't produced anything in the studio for a couple of years. My artist is alive in meditation but absent in the conventional world of form. Although I admire the works of others very much, my own self discouragement feels like it is set in concrete.
As I contemplated a photograph of a beautiful tree at the edge of the sea, I asked the Divine (mother nature, God, Buddha, etc.) "what do you want to tell me?"
She answered the following...
"I want to tell you...
I love you
This is my creation for you...
Blue is my blood
the coolness of shade is my embrace
the light is mind illuminating intention
the lines are my veins.
You live in my painting.
I welcome any creation from you.
You exist to be with me
together in our creations."
I guess I better get to work!
As I contemplated a photograph of a beautiful tree at the edge of the sea, I asked the Divine (mother nature, God, Buddha, etc.) "what do you want to tell me?"
She answered the following...
"I want to tell you...
I love you
This is my creation for you...
Blue is my blood
the coolness of shade is my embrace
the light is mind illuminating intention
the lines are my veins.
You live in my painting.
I welcome any creation from you.
You exist to be with me
together in our creations."
I guess I better get to work!
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
A Bodhisattva Heartbeat
A close friend shared with me her Bodhisattva moment. That's not what she called it, she's not a Buddhist, but I'll refer to it as such for context.
She was in meditation and experienced a profound personal moment when the suffering of others touched her soul. She is now more motivated than ever to help others through her vocations.
According to the American Heritage Dictionary: a Bodhisattva is an enlightened being who, out of compassion, forgoes nirvana in order to save others.
This term, Bodhisattva, is sometimes used as an adjective to describe our compassionate nature.
Our culture has a difficult time encouraging our compassionate nature. Some would say it does the opposite, that it promotes unadulterated self-cherishing! I suppose that is where a personal spiritual paths comes in: church, meditation, temple, mosque, humanitarian vocation, self-improvement, simply being nice, etc.
With so much suffering in the world, being open to realizing our compassionate nature is a profound and special blessing. That nature is what motivates us on this crazy path. Our talents and ambitions are ways to channel that compassionate nature. It may feel distant at times but we have that moment to reference when we feel lost and overwhelmed.
I go back to my Bodhisattva moment often.
Over time, that heartfelt moment, no matter how profound and life-changing, may get buried under life stuff but it's always there and we should create ways to rediscovered it in times of discouragement and disillusionment. We may even be tempted to dismiss it a fluke, irrelevant, silly, naive, or impractical.
Worse, many have no context for what they experienced and may never have told a soul about it thinking they were losing their mind. Well, they WERE losing their mind, their self-cherishing mind!
Mother nature created seasons. Our spiritual path experiences seasons too, seasons of bliss, doubt, disillusionment, inspiration, etc. We can learn to adapt to these seasons like changing our wardrobe to fit the weather. Our Bodhisattva moment may be another blessed tool in our spiritual tool box or it may be the ground on which our path began.
How can we re-inspire our Bodhisattva?
Attempting to recreate that moment with an expectation of bliss is sure come up short. (The first time is always special!) Revisiting the source of the inspiration may help or it may simply pronounce the gulf of separation we feel from that moment. Revisiting our own creations born from that moment of bliss, such as a poem, journal writing, or painting, could feel like another person must have created that!
We tend to grasp as results, we want conventional validation and success, whether that is with our efforts to help people or with our own progress on the spiritual path. We think we must be doing something wrong if we can't generate the bliss in meditation or that we didn't handle that crisis as best as we thought we should. The disappointment and discouragement begins to feed on itself.
Is this where faith come in?
I don't particularly like that word, faith. Perseverance has more of a warrior ring to it. Yeah, perseverance!
If helping people was easy and profitable, we would surely be in the Pure Land!
In our darkest moments, sometimes, we can start with simple appreciation of our Bodhisattva nature because having recognized that compassionate nature is a profound result in itself. We know that hiding in self-cherishing will only perpetuate suffering, so we continue on, we must persevere.
Ok, sometimes it feels like I'm limping on!
Namaste!
She was in meditation and experienced a profound personal moment when the suffering of others touched her soul. She is now more motivated than ever to help others through her vocations.
According to the American Heritage Dictionary: a Bodhisattva is an enlightened being who, out of compassion, forgoes nirvana in order to save others.
This term, Bodhisattva, is sometimes used as an adjective to describe our compassionate nature.
Our culture has a difficult time encouraging our compassionate nature. Some would say it does the opposite, that it promotes unadulterated self-cherishing! I suppose that is where a personal spiritual paths comes in: church, meditation, temple, mosque, humanitarian vocation, self-improvement, simply being nice, etc.
With so much suffering in the world, being open to realizing our compassionate nature is a profound and special blessing. That nature is what motivates us on this crazy path. Our talents and ambitions are ways to channel that compassionate nature. It may feel distant at times but we have that moment to reference when we feel lost and overwhelmed.
I go back to my Bodhisattva moment often.
Over time, that heartfelt moment, no matter how profound and life-changing, may get buried under life stuff but it's always there and we should create ways to rediscovered it in times of discouragement and disillusionment. We may even be tempted to dismiss it a fluke, irrelevant, silly, naive, or impractical.
Worse, many have no context for what they experienced and may never have told a soul about it thinking they were losing their mind. Well, they WERE losing their mind, their self-cherishing mind!
Mother nature created seasons. Our spiritual path experiences seasons too, seasons of bliss, doubt, disillusionment, inspiration, etc. We can learn to adapt to these seasons like changing our wardrobe to fit the weather. Our Bodhisattva moment may be another blessed tool in our spiritual tool box or it may be the ground on which our path began.
How can we re-inspire our Bodhisattva?
Attempting to recreate that moment with an expectation of bliss is sure come up short. (The first time is always special!) Revisiting the source of the inspiration may help or it may simply pronounce the gulf of separation we feel from that moment. Revisiting our own creations born from that moment of bliss, such as a poem, journal writing, or painting, could feel like another person must have created that!
We tend to grasp as results, we want conventional validation and success, whether that is with our efforts to help people or with our own progress on the spiritual path. We think we must be doing something wrong if we can't generate the bliss in meditation or that we didn't handle that crisis as best as we thought we should. The disappointment and discouragement begins to feed on itself.
Is this where faith come in?
I don't particularly like that word, faith. Perseverance has more of a warrior ring to it. Yeah, perseverance!
If helping people was easy and profitable, we would surely be in the Pure Land!
In our darkest moments, sometimes, we can start with simple appreciation of our Bodhisattva nature because having recognized that compassionate nature is a profound result in itself. We know that hiding in self-cherishing will only perpetuate suffering, so we continue on, we must persevere.
Ok, sometimes it feels like I'm limping on!
Namaste!
Monday, January 17, 2011
Dharma Dreams: A Pure Land
I had somewhere to go. I crossed the street, walked through the parking lot and into the park.
It was the most beautiful park I had ever seen. The trees glistened like in those old master Dutch paintings. There was a sense a profound peace that permeated everything I saw, the air and myself. It smothered the tiny insecurity in me that said I wasn't supposed to be there.
A large group of people stood alongside the field of grass. Every kind of person you could imagine, young, old, thin, fat, royal dress, tattered shards, black, white, purple. Ok, no purple but you get the idea.
A tall person welcomed me and they all turned to look at me. I think I interrupted something but I was too overwhelmed by the profound peace that I figured it was okay, it had to be okay. Any sense of self consciousness, such as embarrassment, seemed utterly useless and inconsequential in that place.
That place "out beyond right and wrong" (Rumi).
All the people moved (more like floated) to the other side of the field. I wasn't supposed to be there but I couldn't move.
In the distance, I saw three small white horses with long flowing hair. I recognized them as the Father, Christ and Holy Spirit. Yes, I recognized them. I can't tell you how I recognized them as the divine Christian trinity, I just did. Though this dream was pre-Dharma days, I'm not sure what other divinity I would ascribe to the beings I recognized. In that place, labels did not seem all that important. What was important was their importance.
I felt a reverence but not one of awe, more of as-a-matter-of-fact, like it was normal to see them there. I wanted to be respectful but I didn't know what to do. I hoped that they would approach and they did. They did that kind of float thing across the field in unison. I knew their appearance was not intrinsic to their nature, they did not have a density of being but simply appeared in a manner as to be recognized.
The three of them approached so close I could reach out and touch them but I dared not. I wanted to engage, to speak, to ask a question but I dared not. I was not afraid but simply at a loss for what to do. I only wondered if their flowing hair was as soft as it appeared.
I know. I totally blew it. In the presence of the divinity, I turn deer-in-headlights, "ooh, how pretty!" Knock me upside the head next time you see me, please!
Anyhow, just as Christ's hair barely brushed my hand, beyond soft is the only way to describe it, I heard my washing machine buzzer go off. I immediately turned and joyfully ran off to finish my laundry knowing that place would always be there and I could return whenever I wanted!
Then I woke up.
Use a big sledge hammer.
It was the most beautiful park I had ever seen. The trees glistened like in those old master Dutch paintings. There was a sense a profound peace that permeated everything I saw, the air and myself. It smothered the tiny insecurity in me that said I wasn't supposed to be there.
A large group of people stood alongside the field of grass. Every kind of person you could imagine, young, old, thin, fat, royal dress, tattered shards, black, white, purple. Ok, no purple but you get the idea.
A tall person welcomed me and they all turned to look at me. I think I interrupted something but I was too overwhelmed by the profound peace that I figured it was okay, it had to be okay. Any sense of self consciousness, such as embarrassment, seemed utterly useless and inconsequential in that place.
That place "out beyond right and wrong" (Rumi).
All the people moved (more like floated) to the other side of the field. I wasn't supposed to be there but I couldn't move.
In the distance, I saw three small white horses with long flowing hair. I recognized them as the Father, Christ and Holy Spirit. Yes, I recognized them. I can't tell you how I recognized them as the divine Christian trinity, I just did. Though this dream was pre-Dharma days, I'm not sure what other divinity I would ascribe to the beings I recognized. In that place, labels did not seem all that important. What was important was their importance.
I felt a reverence but not one of awe, more of as-a-matter-of-fact, like it was normal to see them there. I wanted to be respectful but I didn't know what to do. I hoped that they would approach and they did. They did that kind of float thing across the field in unison. I knew their appearance was not intrinsic to their nature, they did not have a density of being but simply appeared in a manner as to be recognized.
The three of them approached so close I could reach out and touch them but I dared not. I wanted to engage, to speak, to ask a question but I dared not. I was not afraid but simply at a loss for what to do. I only wondered if their flowing hair was as soft as it appeared.
I know. I totally blew it. In the presence of the divinity, I turn deer-in-headlights, "ooh, how pretty!" Knock me upside the head next time you see me, please!
Anyhow, just as Christ's hair barely brushed my hand, beyond soft is the only way to describe it, I heard my washing machine buzzer go off. I immediately turned and joyfully ran off to finish my laundry knowing that place would always be there and I could return whenever I wanted!
Then I woke up.
Use a big sledge hammer.
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