photo by Howard Thoresen

Open Road Meditation & Mindfulness Dialogue

September 15, 2022

The corn was orient and immortal wheat, which never should be reaped, nor was ever sown. I thought it had stood from everlasting to everlasting. The dust and stones of the street were as precious as gold: the gates were at first the end of the world. The green trees when I saw them first through one of the gates transported and ravished me, their sweetness and unusual beauty made my heart to leap, and almost mad with ecstasy, they were such strange and wonderful things. The Men! O what venerable and reverend creatures did the aged seem! Immortal Cherubims! And young men glittering and sparkling Angels, and maids strange seraphic pieces of life and beauty! Boys and girls tumbling in the street, and playing, were moving jewels. I knew not that they were born or should die; But all things abided eternally as they were in their proper places. Eternity was manifest in the Light of the Day, and something infinite behind everything appeared: which talked with my expectation and moved my desire. The city seemed to stand in Eden, or to be built in Heaven. The streets were mine, the temple was mine, the people were mine, their clothes and gold and silver were mine, as much as their sparkling eyes, fair skins and ruddy faces. The skies were mine, and so were the sun and moon and stars, and all the World was mine; and I the only spectator and enjoyer of it. I knew no churlish proprieties, nor bounds, nor divisions: but all proprieties and divisions were mine: all treasures and the possessors of them. So that with much ado I was corrupted, and made to learn the dirty devices of this world. Which now I unlearn, and become, as it were, a little child again that I may enter into the Kingdom of God.

—Thomas Traherne (1636-1674), writing about his childhood, from Centuries of Meditations, Third Century, Meditation 3

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Slowness

 Eighteen years ago I was living in a small homesteader’s cabin in Central Oregon. One day I was chopping vegetables, preparing a meal with great efficiency, when for some reason, or no reason, I suddenly slowed down. Instead of moving rapidly from cutting board to stove, I walked s-l-o-w-l-y. And something happened. It was quiet. I hadn’t noticed it, but my mind had been busy with something or other, while I was busy preparing dinner. Now I wasn’t “preparing dinner.” As I took each step, my bare feet felt the floor. It felt like a blessing to be walking, to be alive. The broccoli was beautiful. Everything was perfect.

I have performed this experiment thousands of times since then. I know that if I slow down I see what I’m looking at. I taste what I’m eating. Every thing is beautiful. Perfect.

—Johnny Stallings

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Will We Wake?

The main project of life is to wake from the dark—

to rise up, to step forth foraging for the good. Do we

have it in us now? When the newsreel at the Sunday

matinee is a bad dream, you leave the theater, right?

You decide it’s high time to choose a different story.

Why worship lies, denial, heartless swagger, when,

outside, the sun shines on both suffering and true joy?

Aren’t we here to leave the cave of fables, help

the hurt, and begin to repair the injured Earth?

Am I preaching to the choir? Yes, I speak to

those already singing. Sing ever more ravishing 

songs, I say, so sleepers may awake.

—Kim Stafford

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#292 Every Step a Prayer

“In the spirit of Buddhism, anything you do that is accompanied by mindfulness, concentration, and insight can be considered a prayer. When you drink your tea in forgetfulness, you are not truly alive because you’re not there, you’re not mindful, and you’re not concentrated. That moment is not a moment of practice.

    When you hold your cup and drink your tea in mindfulness and concentration, it’s like you’re performing a sacred ritual, and that is a prayer. When you walk, if you enjoy every step, if every step nourishes and transforms you, then every step is a prayer. When you sit in solidity and freedom, when you breathe in and out in mindfulness, when you touch the wonders of life, that is meditation and that is also prayer.”

from Your True Home by Thich Nhat Hanh

    Well, I love this idea: every step a prayer, anything done in mindfulness, concentration and insight can be considered a prayer, a meditation.

    Sometimes just the word, ‘meditation’ can sound daunting and not attainable—or attainable only with difficulty. And the idea of prayer, the same. Does meditation require a Buddhist temple, a zafu, half-closed eyes, touching fingertips? Does prayer require a church, prayer book, kneeling in a pew, fingers steepled solemnly? Thank goodness—no!

    It simply requires paying attention to whatever you’re doing, in that moment, and always. It may be difficult, but it isn’t daunting. I can breathe deeply and place each boot on the trail and look up at the mountain in front of me and feel the cool air bathing my arms and listen to the chuckle of the creek beside me…

    And that is prayer? That is meditation?  Piece of cake! I’m on it!

—Jude Russell

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August 7, 2022  #328  Anywhere You Go (from Your True Home)

I like Thây’s point that mindful practice isn’t limited to an ashram, zendo, or other “formal” space for practice. First, I settle in and pay attention to my breath. Then, I open up my awareness to all that is around me—without any judgement and/or without assigning any “meaning” to the NOW moments as they pass. And, that’s it. I can participate in the NOW by simply (and only) attending to my breath—grounding in the NOW— and not spinning stories about what is going on around me. I can simply breathe and simply enjoy the experience of NOW. Nothing more is needed.

August 8, 2022  #329  A New Holiday (from Your True Home)

I like this one! It reminds me of an aphorism my friend Carl likes to share from time to time—it’s his view of birthdays. In essence he expresses the same ideal. Why wait for a “special” day to celebrate a friend’s life and import in one’s own life? Celebrate every day. Happy un-birthday all! Thây’s idea goes only one small step further: Why not celebrate every day by living NOW?—breathing deeply of each moment, touching Earth, seeing sky, hearing all life as it surrounds, leave nothing out.

Embrace the NOW for all it has to offer. Celebrate life as it is, NOW. We can let go of how we “want” or “think” life should be and embrace it for what it is NOW. We can celebrate alone or with others, as much or as little as we choose. Let us enter Today (NOW), live fully within, celebrate through conscious, deliberate breath and touch NOW.

August 9, 2022  #330  A Loving Community of Two (from Your True Home)

This is simple life guidance. It expresses the ideal of “real” love requires and external object of love; therefore, love is action, or requires action to be seen, felt and known. Love can’t simply be spoken, or, worse, unspoken. (Some operate from there. “Oh, she knows I love her.” My reply: “Oh really?! How?”)

I thought, recently, that I had finally found one who would draw me out of my shell. One who would challenge my façades and masks. One who would “complete me.” One in whom I could trust and with whom I could, as Thây suggests today, practice (learn) being a two-person community of love. Instead…well, it wasn’t what I hoped for; it was more infatuation with my own ideals embodied in another person—(Was I even on the right track? I don’t know any more.)—than a joining together of mutual love, respect and admiration. But it gave me hope—hope that someday I will find a person who is a positive match, and with whom I can build a loving community.

—from the meditation journal of Michel Deforge