Taste Every Ounce of Friendship

“Live. And Live Well.

BREATHE. Breathe in and Breathe deeply.

Be PRESENT. Do
not be past. Do not be future. Be now.

On a crystal clear, breezy 70 degree day,
roll down the windows and

FEEL the wind against your skin. Feel the warmth of
the sun.

If you run, then allow those first few breaths on a cool Autumn day to

FREEZE your lungs and do not just be alarmed, be ALIVE.

Get knee-deep in a novel
and LOSE track of time.

If you bike, pedal HARDER and if you crash then crash
well.

Feel the SATISFACTION of a job well done-a paper well-written, a project
thoroughly completed, a play well-performed.

If you must wipe the snot from your
3-year old's nose, don't be disgusted if the Kleenex didn't catch it all

because soon he'll be wiping his own.

If you've recently experienced loss, then
GRIEVE. And Grieve well.

At the table with friends and family, LAUGH.

If you're
eating and laughing at the same time, then might as well laugh until you puke.

And if you eat, then SMELL.

The aromas are not impediments to your day. Steak on
the grill, coffee beans freshly ground, cookies in the oven.

And TASTE.

Taste every ounce of flavor.

Taste every ounce of friendship.

Taste every ounce of Life.

Because-it-is-most-definitely-a-Gift.”

Kyle Lake

Simplicity

Simplicity, originally uploaded by michiganzen.

“I've heard it said that people come into our lives for a reason
Bringing something we must learn
And we are led to those who help us most to grow
If we let them and we help them in return.”
― Stephen Schwartz

Proportionality

It is wise to honor life's sequence of reality moments, much in the same way we conduct or play a piece of music. Attending to the complexity of rhythm, including giving careful attention to the rests so that they have their fully intended durations, their values.

Our breath, our reality becomes skewed and distorted when we hurry some passages, give into the temptation to repeat especially enjoyable or easily played passages, or skip yet-to-be-mastered sections.

Melody becomes disjunct, disjointed--a song interrupted. And then, in our panic and anxiety we lose harmony, blurring the tonalities with poor pedaling. The piece of music that is our breath huffs and puffs and loses its clarity.

But, like the pianist who stays centered and reflective, who pays attention to his breathing and disallows the momentarily bruised ego of a bad performance to draw him into a retreat of denial, we each can regain our rhythm. We can listen for the melody of life until our song is heard again.

Through practicing proportionality we can bring our harmonious being into full sonority.

Today, slow your pace, listen to your inner music, allow time for the rests; sing the song of this moment.

The Present Path

It's not nearly as important to choose the best path as it is to pick a path -- any path. It's vital to make solid decisions that take the positive and negative into account, but if you hesitate much, it all changes -- or the decision ends up getting made for you! Just take a breath and then face the direction that feels best to you. Looking back years from now, you'll be glad you did!

Allowing delusion to pass

Clarity can take our intellectual and emotional breath away. Sometimes when we see things just as they are we can be tempted to escape back into delusion, our place of familiarity.

Today, when life reveals itself, stay with it. That is being present; that is the Middle Way.

Authenticity

Buddhist practice is not about forcing ourselves to be natural. It is about being ourselves. When we take the vows of refuge, we are also pledging to find the refuge that exists within our own lives. This taking of refuge is not some kind of evasion or escape, but is the planting of our "selves" deeply in the nature of what surrounds us. We lodge ourselves in the deep waves and in the shallow pools, in the crests and depressions of our lives. Sometimes, even wreckage can make a temporary resting place. A person whose life is in tatters might have nothing much else left to do but relax and look at the pieces of what's left.

-Gary Thorp, "Shelter from the Storm" (Summer 2005)

Contemplating Pain

Anne Morrow Lindbergh wrote, "Go with the pain, let it take you...open your palms and your body to the pain. It comes in waves like a tide, and you must be open as a vessel lying on the beach, letting it fill you up and then, retreating, leaving you empty and clear...With a deep breath--it has to be as deep as the pain--one reaches a kind of inner freedom from pain, as though the pain were not your but your body's. The spirit lays the body on the alter."
As our lives, our moments offer us opportunity to be with difficulty, the constant temptation to move away from pain seduces us. We can enter into states of denial, creating illusions that our difficulties do not exist; we can give into distractions, like wine, lust, and career competitions; we can hide our fears with unnecessary expressions of power and ego.
Sometimes pain is our experience. When we retreat from it, we disconnect from our reality, falling into illusion.
Today, strive to be with all your experiences--those that are pleasant, and those that disorient. Whether on your run, when your lungs burn, your eyes fill with salty sweat, and your legs throb--or in the solitude of your fear--fear of aging, of disease, illness; or the fear of losing a loved one. Make meaning. Be present.