Wednesday, November 6, 2024

Wise Hope by Joan Halifax

 https://shorturl.at/LU0qk

A good part of my life has been spent relating to situations that might be deemed hopeless—as an anti-war activist, a civil rights worker, a caregiver of dying people. I have also volunteered with death row inmates, served in medical clinics in remote areas of the Himalayas—where life is hard, food is scarce, and access to health care is nil—and worked in Kathmandu with Rohingya refugees who have no status, anywhere. You might ask, why bother? Why hold out hope for ending war or injustice? Why have hope for people who are dying, or for refugees fleeing from genocide, or for solutions to climate change?

I have often been troubled by the notion of hope. But recently, in part because of the work of social critic Rebecca Solnit and her powerful book Hope in the Dark, I am opening to another view of hope—what I call wise hope.
As Buddhists, we know that ordinary hope is based in desire, wanting an outcome that could well be different from what will actually happen. Not getting what we hoped for is usually experienced as some kind of misfortune. Someone who is hopeful in this way has an expectation that always hovers in the background, the shadow of fear that one’s wishes will not be fulfilled. This ordinary hope is a subtle expression of fear and a form of suffering.
Wise hope doesn’t mean denying these realities. It means facing them.

Wise hope is not seeing things unrealistically but rather seeing things as they are, including the truth of suffering—both its existence and our capacity to transform it. It’s when we realize we don’t know what will happen that this kind of hope comes alive; in that spaciousness of uncertainty is the very space we need to act.

Too often we become paralyzed by the belief that there is nothing to hope for—that our cancer diagnosis is a one-way street with no exit, that our political situation is beyond repair, that there is no way out of our climate crisis. It becomes easy to think that nothing makes sense anymore, or that we have no power and there’s no reason to act.

I often say that there should be just two words over the door of our temple in Santa Fe: Show up! Yes, suffering is present. We cannot deny it. There are 65.3 million refugees in the world today, only eleven countries are free from conflict, and climate change is turning forests into deserts. Economic injustice is driving people into greater and greater poverty. Racism and sexism remain rampant.

But understand, wise hope doesn’t mean denying these realities. It means facing them, addressing them, and remembering what else is present, like the shifts in our values that recognize and move us to address suffering right now. “Do not find fault with the present,” says Zen Master Keizan. He invites us to see it, not flee it!

The Czech statesman Václav Havel said, “Hope is definitely not the same thing as optimism. It is not the conviction that something will turn out well but the certainty that something makes sense, regardless of how it turns out.” We can’t know, but we can trust that there will be movement, there will be change. And that we will be part of it. We move forward in our day and get out the vote, or sit at the bedside of a dying patient, or teach that third grade class.

As Buddhists, we share a common aspiration to awaken from suffering; for many of us, this aspiration is not a “small self” improvement program. The bodhisattva vows at the heart of the Mahayana tradition are, if nothing else, a powerful expression of radical and wise hope—an unconditional hope that is free of desire.

Dostoyevsky said, “To live without hope is to cease to live.” His words remind us that apathy is not an enlightened path. We are called to live with possibility, knowing full well that impermanence prevails. So why not just show up?

Monday, November 4, 2024

L’amour chasse la peur

La peur chasse, l’amour et l’amour chasse la peur. ~ 


Via Jonathan Lehmann via Méditation du matin on Insight Timer



fear drives out love and love drives out fear


Tuesday, October 29, 2024

RELAXATION: Our time is first of all for us to be

3. Total Relaxation Many of us are over-scheduled. Even the lives of our children are over-scheduled. When we can allow ourselves to rest and relax, healing becomes possible. There is no healing without relaxation. In Deer Park Monastery and other Plum Village centres we offer guided lying-down relaxations of 30 minutes or more in our meditation halls. We are guided to follow our breathing and relax our muscles, allowing our body to truly rest. In deep relaxation, we may take time to visit each part of our body in turn—the forehead, the jaw, the shoulders, arms, hands, belly, and so on—gently allowing that part of our body to release any tension that is there. We may take particular themes to contemplate the body, such as compassion, gratitude, wonder, or impermanence. https://youtu.be/_uvMfQSyFBY?si=mhHqT3J9Wnl7UYVA

Relaxation brings peace, happiness and creativity. It is possible to incorporate it into our daily life—taking a moment to completely put down our burdens after a long day at work, or scanning our body for a few minutes before we go to sleep. In challenging situations, 5 or 10 minutes of full attention on our breathing and body, in the sitting or lying position, can be very helpful and give us the space and clarity we need to continue. In the Buddhist tradition we speak of “mindfulness of the body in the body” (kāyānupassanā). It means we become aware of the body from within the body, through our felt experience of the body. Some years ago Thich Nhat Hanh shared: “We think that when we are not doing anything we are wasting our time, that is not true. Our time is first of all for us to be. To be ... to be what? To be alive, to be peace, to be joy, to be loving. And that is what the world needs the most. So we train ourself in order to be. And if you know the art of being peace, of being solid, then you have the ground for every action … because the ground for action is to be. And the quality of being determines the quality of doing. Action must be based on non-action.” You can find many guided body scan relaxations on the free Plum Village App: https://plumvillage.app/ We hope this video introduction supports you in your practice at home, or with your sangha.

Enjoy your practice!Some years ago Thich Nhat Hanh shared: “We think that when we are not doing anything we are wasting our time, that is not true. Our time is first of all for us to be. To be ... to be what? To be alive, to be peace, to be joy, to be loving. And that is what the world needs the most. So we train ourself in order to be. And if you know the art of being peace, of being solid, then you have the ground for every action … because the ground for action is to be. And the quality of being determines the quality of doing. Action must be based on non-action.”

Pensée de la semaine - Ricard

Nous sommes nous-mêmes responsables de nos maux. Nous sommes les héritiers du passé et les maîtres du futur. Il n'y a pas de "bien" et de "mal" en soi, il y a des actes et des pensées qui conduisent à la souffrance, et d'autres au bonheur.

Matthieu Ricard

Monday, October 28, 2024

Investigate: 'Mindful Awareness is not a technique; the way we approach meditation is a whole way of life.."

'Mindful Awareness is not a technique; the way we approach meditation is a whole way of life." (18:00:00)

Brother Phap Dung - #9: Practice Basics

https://youtu.be/RoS-zshhF2I?si=6-LRGta1Zxdoe98i&t=1026


17:06:00 to 28:29:00



On Silence by Richard Rohr

 




A Prayerful Rhythm of Life

The Gift of Silence 

Monday, July 1, 2024

Monastics should diligently cultivate silence at all times. 
—St. Benedict, Rule, chapter 42 

For Richard Rohr, silence is a foundation upon which we can build our lives: 

Silence is not just that which happens around words and underneath images and events. It has a life of its own. It’s a phenomenon with an almost physical identity. It is a being in itself to which we can relate. Philosophically, we would say being is that foundational quality which precedes all other attributes. When we relate to the naked being of a thing, we learn to know it at its core. Silence is somehow at the very foundation of all reality. It is that out of which all being comes and to which all things return.  

Silence precedes, undergirds, and grounds everything. We cannot just think of it as an accident, or as something unnecessary. Unless we learn how to live there, go there, abide in this different phenomenon, the rest of things—words, events, relationships, identities—become rather superficial, without depth or context. They lose meaning, so we end up searching for more events and situations which must increasingly contain ever-higher stimulation, more excitement, and more color to add vital signs to our inherently bored and boring existence. Really, the simplest and most stripped-down things ironically have the power to give us the greatest happiness—if we respect them as such. Silence is the essence of simple and stripped down.   

We need to experience silence as a living presence which is primordial and primal in itself, and then see all other things—now experienced deeply—inside of that container. Silence is not just an absence, but also a presence. Silence surrounds every “I know” event with a humble and patient “I don’t know.” It protects the autonomy and dignity of events, persons, animals, and all things.  

We must find a way to return to this place, to live in this place, to abide in this place of inner silence. Outer silence means very little if there is not a deeper inner silence. Everything else appears much clearer when it appears or emerges out of a previous silence. When I use the word appear, I mean that silence takes on reality, substance, significance, or meaning. Without silence around a thing, which is a mystery, it can be difficult to find a meaning that lasts. It’s just another event in a sequence of ever-quicker events, which we call our lives.  

Without silence, we do not really experience our experiences. We have many experiences, but they do not have the power to change us, to awaken us, to give us that joy or “peace that the world cannot give,” as Jesus says (John 14:27). 

Reference:  
Adapted from Richard Rohr, Silent Compassion: Finding God in Contemplation, rev. ed. (Cincinnati, OH: Franciscan Media, 2014, 2023), 1–2, 2–3, 4–5.  

Silence as object of meditation


This morning, setting the intention to explore silence, I noticed that awareness of silence can be a gratifying place of refuge. Awareness of silence when set in contrast with objects that come from the pool of non-silence - whether it be sounds from nature, sounds from other humans and their voices and words, does become a place of refuge.  As for my attention to the non-silence of my thoughts, my attention to the chatter generated by my thoughts, there is also joy in awareness of silence, in the awareness of silence as object of meditation. Thoughts and chatter become maybe less compelling - and I might be able to learn & accept this chatter as normal and undying, and the content -  always transitory. 


Rumi ~ Hear the Birds Sing