Post spin class meditation

The week's meditation is on lovingkindness, the ability to experience love without attachment. Traditionally, lovingkindness evolves from first experiencing lovingkindness toward one's self. So, to feel respectful and appreciative of one's essence, actions, and spirit without feeling the need to control situations, others, or the future. Then, as that sense unfolds, one seeks lovingkindness toward others, first those close to us, then eventually toward those whom we find difficult or challenging--practicing lovingkindness toward enemies.

The meditation is:
May I be filled with lovingkindness
May I be well
May I be peaceful and at ease
May I be happy.

In the sweaty group solitude of spin class this morning I repeated the mediation over and over. But as I thought more deeply about it and added images to each statement, the meditation became:

May I fully appreciate all who are here and the instructor who is so admirably invested in this class; those friends who are here and share running and biking tips. May I not take casual friendships for granted.
May I be filled with vitality and energy; have strong muscles and appreciation for my abilities--and grateful that I can breathe...and brought plenty of water.
May I take in the luxury of this class and settle fully into the rhythm of hard physical work.
May I find humor in my life and not take my accomplishments too seriously or mistakes with too much self-deprication; may I be open to learning and always spontaneous.

The benefits of practicing lovingkindness are many, at least to me. This week has been filled with family illness, some difficult personal decisions, the seemingly always present problem of finding enough time to get all tasks completed, concern about friends in LA (Paula, John, Peter...are you all okay??); a guy who locker nears me and who has been noticeably absent for the past month appeared yesterday, gaunt with post-chemo emaciation...a cancer diagnosis less than a month old following a visit to a physician to find out about his recurring acid reflux, which is esophageal cancer...The list of problems could go on.

But in the midst of this I am reminded that this journey, as Kornfield says, "doesn't get better and better. It gets better and worse, and better and worse..." So, some good physical activity and a little meditation can't hurt.

Meditation for a healing friend

Develop a mind that is vast like the water, where experiences both pleasant and unpleasant can appear and disappear without conflict, struggle, or harm. Rest in a mind like vast water.

Buddha

When our body experiences pain, that pain cannot be partitioned off neatly. While pain is physical, and suffering, mental--any type of pain is holistic. Whether we have burned our fingers while cooking, or are healing from a major surgery, our mind, soul, social relationships, and mind intermingle striving to make sense of the pain--to give reason to a complex experience that transcends explanation. This meditation allows you to fully be in your experience, letting go of any search for reason or desire for an end to pain.

Breathe deeply. Be with your breath and embrace all the sensations within your being; accept your pain, fear, anger, and hope. Know that many of your friends and family experience your pain, although in ways different than you. Take a moment to expand your experience to include your imaginations of the hope, friendship, love, and support others wish for you. Slowly say the name of each family member or friend who you know is wishing you peace; thank them. As your experience expands, stay with your breath. As you breathe in, say, “this moment is mine, but I am not alone; I am bringing life to my experience.” As you breathe out, say, “I am allowing fear to move through and out of my body; I am learning from my experience.” Allow your breath to move as it does, whether that be easily or more labored; observe your breathing and give yourself permission to be fully in each moment.

Playing with the wind

The weather turned out to be truly beautiful yesterday. Despite predictions of thunderstorms, the day was sunny, humid, and warm. It also was quite gusty. I made some good progress on the Scriabin set, then went for a run. I logged four miles--not a lot, but not bad for a warm holiday afternoon. The wind seemed to come from every direction. I started out running west, and found myself running directly into the gusts; on the return, running east, there was no noticeable difference. All in all, it was a good short pre-lunch run.

The Scriabin is going well. The Prelude Op. 11, No, 1 is quintessential early Scriabin. His idea of the mystic chord, moving from the traditional triad-based harmonies to the more glistening sounding stacked fourths is the feature, interest, and challenge of the little piece. The harmonic interest coupled with the unusual rhythm makes the actually very simple harmonic shifts quite alluring. The technical difficulties lie in the large spans of short and fast sweeping arpeggios in the left hand. By themselves they are not terrible, but paired with the unusual right hand configurations they provide plenty of challenge. I will have the memorization and technical problems solved this week, then enjoy moving on to working with the nuance of the phrasing and velocity. Scriabin originally marked the piece Ondeggiante, carezzando--literally--undulating and caressing the keys. Well, that idea is exactly the right one, but the care necessary to play the notes as swiftly as necessary requires ample practice.

Running in the wind and working up the sweep of the Prelude are actually the same experience. One using legs, the other hands; both the mind.

Memorial Day

I've resumed playing the piano. After cajoling from many friends I determined that I should return to that past life of practice. Next month I will play a summer recital, or at least musicale for a small group of new acquaintances and old friends.

On this rainy (although the sun has just peeked out), Michigan Memorial Day I will learn the Op 11, No 1 Prelude of Alexander Scriabin. Scriabin, a mystic, Russian composer suits the mood of the day and my musical temperament. I am pairing the Prelude with old friends--the Op. 8, No. 5 and Op. 42, No. 5 etudes. The score to the second--the more difficult etude in c# minor--is so marked up I can barely read the notes. But yesterday's return to that repertoire went well and I'm eager to put them together as a set.

John is still asleep, but when he awakes I'll get in time at the piano, then go for a run. I'm preparing for the Reed's Lake 10K and the Coast Guard Challenge--also a 10K. The former is just enjoyable, but the latter is a bit of an endurance trail.