Ode To The Gardener

Planting your garden wherever you go

Taking up space where wildlife should grow.

Who gives you permission to kill and to mime?

To take ground to which you have no claim.

You cry for the dolphin and weep for the whale

But have no consideration for rabbit, deer, or quail

You call yourself “teacher” – someone evolved

Your words not reflecting actions – all self involved.

Illusion surrounds you like smoke and mirrors

While evolved beings watch through a veil of tears.

You take life by digging, planting, and spraying for weeds

You are blinded by ego and never see natures real needs.

The garden of nature is more beautiful by far

Draped with wild berries and touched by a star.

It belongs to the creatures of our grand Mother Earth

The great Mother from whom we each have taken birth

So put away your shovel, your hoe, and your rake

Leave poison behind for the Earth’s greater sake

Bury your ego with your cultivated flowers

Return to nature your life with its hours.

The millennium has changed and time has moved on

Become one with nature – learn Her sacred song.

PSG

 

A Dream With Thích Nhất Hạnh

Last night Thay walked through my dream time.  I had thought of him throughout the day.  He was walking in the slow, steady, purposeful way that he walks.  His attention was focused as he silently put one foot then the other on the earth.  He gently and reverently moved across the earth and in his walking I realized the depth of his meditation in life.

As his feet touched the earth he absorbed the energy that radiated upward and he reciprocated and sent his energy back into her.  There was love and balance in his walk and I was aware of how silence in all things allows us to touch our deepest creative heart.  As I observed his walk I learned the importance and beauty of silence in all that we do.

When we are silent our voices are much stronger when we speak.  So is the power of Thay; his silence enhances his teachings.  When he speaks it is from the depth of his silence.  His talk like his walk reflects his reverence and respect for all life.  

 
This dream was showing me how to balance my thoughts, words, and actions in my daily walk through life.  Thay walks slowly, peacefully and his thoughts are in the moment; this becomes an example for how to maintain balance in my life.  He is completely aware of every moment in that moment.  His thoughts do not precede him nor do they follow him; they are with him where he is.  This is  how I visualize my life, neither rushing ahead in my thoughts nor lagging behind but being still and with them in the present moment.  

Thay's walk through my dream allowed me to experience the calm that he displays wherever he is.  When my thoughts run ahead or drag behind the thought of his walk brings me back into the present moment.  Regret, worry, and anticipation dissolve as my thoughts stay present.  My breath becomes my anchor.  

So I breathe in and I breathe out to re-experience this dream with Thích Nhất Hạnh.  When worry, anxiety, regret, plague my thoughts I ground myself in my breath and visualize Thay's slow, purposeful walk along a path.

 

Awake

The lawn awakes

After a long winter’s

Sleep

The trees bear

Witness to new

Budding

And tiny shoots

Of flowers

Timidly pop

Their heads

Above ground

Last year’s

Left over leaves

Are cleared away

By able hands

And strong backs

Of the lawn crew

Green touches

Brown grass

Birds sing

Calling to

Each other and

To a new Dawn

Ah, Spring

Arrives

PSG  4/11/15

Creating Sacred Space

Years ago I learned how to create an alter for my meditation practice.  In the beginning of doing this practice I needed the prompt of an alter to help my mind touch the discipline of my practice.  Having a familiar space with a few special objects helped me begin the transition from ordinary time into sacred time.  At that point in my life I thought they were separate.  So the place and objects assisted my transition from one state of being to another.

I am a morning person so the best time for me to engage in this practice is morning.  I would get up early, go to the alter I had made in our family room, sit quietly, focus on the objects on my alter, and begin my practice.  I taught myself consistency in those early days; at a certain time and in my designated place I would slow my in breath and my out breath, try to stop my thoughts, which I often was unsuccessful at doing, and move toward a feeling of peace.  Some days in my 20 minute practice I may have 5 seconds of meditation.  Despite my success or failure I came back to the cushion, my alter, and this practice daily. Looking back on those years I see how encumbered my practice was then, but it was necessary for me to surrender to this practice as I strengthened my ability to sit quietly.

In time and in working with teachers I learned that mind chatter, which is referred to as monkey mind, is the challenge students of meditation face. It is the mind's attempt to remain in control.  The mind fears that when we move beyond our thoughts it will no longer be in charge.  It fears losing its place of creating our identity so the mindless chatter of monkey mind is created to counter this fear.

In my first months of meditation my mind was very active; "what do I make for breakfast, what do the kids need for the day, my schedule at my office, Roger's day", the list went on and on and on....  It might move to regrets, anger, hurt, failure, or to joy, success, and love.  It pulled me into past or future and increased my sense of not being in control.  Oft times my 20 minute practice became a 19 minute 55 second day dream, gripe session, or filled with regret, and perhaps only 5 seconds touched the state of mindfulness, but slowly I began to understand that those 5 seconds were a gift from my continuing my practice.

Then I began to allow myself to witness the mind-play of monkey mind chatter.  Slowly and with continued practice I learned to separate from this inner talk and to become the observer to the process of these thoughts.  I was able to watch them, not judge them, but see them with compassion and let them go.  I did not have to continue to think about these things nor did I have to act on them; I witnessed and let them go.

As my practice continued I realized that I did not need objects or a place to create sacred space; that exists wherever I am and I become the scared object of my meditation.  I became unencumbered with the trappings of my practice.  I was told by my medicine teacher that when I smoked the sacred pipe I was not praying to Wakantaka but rather I was praying with Wakantaka.  This teacher taught me that although the pipe is a sacred object it is only a symbol for the sacredness of self.  To give honor and respect to it is good, but to love, honor, and respect self is what we hopefully learn from our practice.

I understood that in my meditation practice it is not about space or objects but is about the sacredness of self.  Meditation is a good way to get in touch with my inner sacredness, but living a life that demonstrates this sacredness in my daily thoughts, words, and actions is what this and any practice needs to be about.  If I do not walk my practice in my daily life then my talk will not be meaningful.

So we begin with a slow, steady practice to build up our ability to sit on the cushion, or in a chair, still our thoughts, and eventually become the witness to this process.  In the beginning it takes the consistency of time, place, and objects to quiet our minds.  With time and daily practice we find our minds quieting and becoming still.  As this happens we begin to grow into a mindful place of meditation.  Observing monkey mind we can unravel our angry, self destructive thoughts, and begin to experience mindfulness.  

As we become more assured in our practice we begin to let go of the props we once needed to find harmony with mind, body, and spirit.  Now we carry our practice into daily life, and can practice whenever and wherever we are in each moment.  We self activate our practice in the moment and this guides our thoughts, words, and actions.  We are present now, and all we seek or need is available in this moment.

In the words and teachings of my first teacher: "We no longer pray to, but we now pray with as we touch the divine presence within ourselves and in each moment."  It is good, mitakuye oyasin.

               

Bittersweet

Done Too Soon

Saying good-by to a friend

Watching her go

Into a grand new venture

In life

Is exciting

And sad

I share her excitement

And I hold my sadness

I will miss her presence

Yet I thrill to her

Adventure

For over two and a half decades

We shared a work space

Shared the joys

The sorrows

The beginnings

And the endings

Through life

There was laughter

And tears

Smiles, frowns

Ups and downs

And now it is

Done too soon

In a blink

It has come

And is gone

We say farewell

But in that word

We stand connected

The friendship

We share transcends

Time, distance, events

We share the same sun

Look in wonder at the same moon

And even though

Time passes

We are not

Done too soon

Travel well

My friend

~PSG~  3/27/15

A Tale of Two Teachers

It is said that when the student is ready the teacher will appear.   This is a tale of two teachers arriving when I was ready to learn from each.

Many seasons ago on a warm, clear spring evening as I walked across the sacred prairie earth of my home I encountered a most wondrous thing.  As I walked through the tall grasses that populate the prairie my eye caught sight of something quite extraordinary; the sun was setting at my back casting long shadows as I walked through the grasses.  There among these tall brown and green grasses stood the most beautiful and unusual flower; it was a tropical flower, its colors reflecting the brightness of its native land.  At first I was not certain if the long sloping rays of the last sunlight were playing a trick on my eyes, or if this beautiful tropical flower was really there.

The prairie grasses swayed in the early evening light casting shadows as they moved, and this beautiful flower picked up the rhythm of their dance and moved with them as if they were dance partners of old.  The flower dipped and swayed in the most intricate of patterns as the evening breeze caressed it; I moved close to the flower and could smell its wonderful fragrance, a light perfume so different than the earthy smell of the grass and prairie flowers that danced with this tropical plant.  I leaned close to where it swayed in the breeze and gently touched it with my hand.  It responded to my touch as if it knew me, and like an old friend that has not been seen in a very long time, who has been very much missed and whose return has been anticipated.

I whispered to this tropical plant, “May I pick you?”  And the plant replied, “Most certainly; I will take root, grow, and flourish wherever I am planted.”

And so I bent down and gently took this plant from its place in the red/brown soil of the prairie earth.  As I gently drew the plant upward from its place it took root in my heart, filling me with its beauty and essence, and it resides in my heart to this very day.

Many seasons passed, the tropical plant living and flourishing in my heart as it accompanied me throughout my life’s journey.  One day my journey took me to a faraway land; a place of tall mountains, rugged terrain, and fast flowing rivers.  I arrived in the late afternoon of a summer’s day.  

As I passed through this rugged and beautiful landscape I saw a tall spindly plant growing up between two boulders at the place were the mountain met the river.  It stood rigidly at attention protected from the strong winds of the mountains by its two guardian boulders.  As I watched it I thought of the beautiful tropical flower.  I saw that this tall plant with its prickly covering could not sway and dance like the tropical flower had done on the prairie floor.  This plant stood straight and strong bending only slightly in the wind.

I was drawn to this plant because of its fierce rough beauty, its tenacity, and its strong will to survive.  Here on this mountainside next to the river it had found its home, and here it stood between the two boulders.  Its aroma was woody and strong, it was aromatic rather than fragrant like the tropical flower, but its scent was appealing.  

I walked to where it stood reached out my hand and gently touched its spiny covering.  It responded to my touch and greeted me like an old friend but with a bit more reservation than the tropical flower had greeted me.  It too knew me, I knew it, and I wanted to bring it to me as the tropical flower had come to me.  But this plant needed more coaxing, more time, and more awareness.  It would not come easily and had to be persuaded to join me.  It was a fierce wild plant that had rooted deep into this mountainside and was fed by the flowing river.  The tropical flower had come to my land of its own accord but now I traveled into the home of this wild plant and I wanted to carry it away with me.  It was not certain that it wanted to go. 

So we spoke through a wordless speech; we spoke of many things; of philosophies, life, of the physical world, and of the spiritual world.  Our dance was rigid, and more formal than the dance with the tropical flower had been.  But it was a proper dance, devised by the spirit of all growing things, and in time, as we spoke and danced and spoke again, the tall spindly plant became a bit softer and a little more pliable.

And I asked it, “May I pick you and carry you with me.”  And it replied, “Yes, I will go, take root, grow and flourish wherever I am planted.  For I am resilient and can easily do that.”

So I reached down and gently took this plant from the mountainside that had been its home and it immediately took root in my heart next to the beautiful tropical flower and both flourish there together.

Now I began to examine these two beings that are a part of my being.  Listening to them, observing them, and learning from them.  I compared them in my heart.  The tropical plant was a splash of beautiful color, a fragrance like very good perfume,  it was soft and pliable, and as I watched this plant I was reminded of an epiphany; the word so soft and gentle on the tongue and the meaning of it a flash/a spark of great knowing/understanding/awareness. 

The tall wild plant was subdued in color, rough in texture, and it carried an aroma of the mountain floor, the rocks, and the trees.  It reminded me of an iconoclast;   the word strong with a hard edge and always calling into question the belief systems of those it encounters. 

These two very dissimilar yet very much alike beings had rooted in my heart.  As I watched I saw that each of their root systems had gone deep into me and were intertwining as I watched.  They were one and they were different; they were together but not the same. 

The tropical plant flooded me with the simplicity of faith in myself, in what lie beyond me, and in life itself.  The tall wild plant introduced the hard edge of reality, calling me to examine, to explore, to learn, and then make my decision of what I would accept/believe.  They are dissimilar but the same; one complimenting the other; one drawing me more deeply into my awareness while the other calling me forth to examine and to think critically. 

I understood that this was the sacred twining that happens when one has come to the juncture of two great beings:

“For east is east

And west is west

And ner the twain shall meet

Till Earth and Sky

Stand presently

At God’s great judgment seat”*

These two great beings grow deep within my heart and have become my life teachers. Though there are great contrasts between them they are also similar.  Their root systems have entwined within me and symbolize an inner marriage of the inner feminine and the inner masculine.  Though they are outer beings in life their essence and nature have taken root in my heart and grow there as a part of what I am becoming as my path unfolds before me.

*Kipling, Rudyard: (1865 – 1936) ”The Ballad of East and West”