happiness

Living with mindfulness

savorA few weeks ago, I was out walking the dog along the waterfront, where a new pier is being constructed for a residential high-rise. It’s been a little noisy in the neighborhood for the last few months, but nothing really disturbing; just a constant sort of background hum.

This particular day however, as we got closer to the site, I could really hear it. I mean really. You want to know how loud it was? It was louder than the loudest setting on my phone’s music app! I know, right? Immediately, the yenta complainer voice that lives in my head chimed in: “Ugh. It’s so loud. I wish it would stop. Why does this need to be happening now? Why can’t I just go for a quiet peaceful walk on a beautiful warm day without something like this ruining it? Why does this always happen to me?” She’s a real gem…

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What is the practice of self-love?

Self-love is not about affirmations or proclamations. It’s not about pretending to be happy, going to the gym, doing yoga, or eating a vegan diet. It is a practice; a difficult, often scary, daily mental exercise that you can do sitting on your couch. It’s more important than anything else you do, any day of the week. If you don’t practice self-love, then you don’t have any love to give anyone else in your life.

It’s about looking inward and getting in touch with your vulnerabilities; your darkest, most terrifying thoughts. It’s about being gentle and compassionate with your screaming inner child. It’s honoring your authentic self, and listening for the divine wisdom of your intuition. It’s learning to say yes to what your heart asks of you; and learning to say no to anything that goes against your truth.

The relationship you build with yourself through this practice is the most important relationship you will ever have. Cherish it.

I am responsible for what I say. But I am not responsible for what you hear.

This is one of my favorite quotes by don Miguel Ruiz. It is such a profound piece of wisdom. When you “get” what this really means, it has the power to transform your life entirely. I’ve been thinking about this subject a lot lately.

Try as we might, we cannot control what other people think of us. We all want to be thought of as “good” people, but the reality is that everyone hears, sees, and judges others through their own filters in the mind. People make assumptions and judgments based on what they believe about themselves and their own realities. There is very little you can do about that in relation to another person.

When you realize this, you stop trying so hard to affect what others think of you. You just do and say whatever is in your own integrity, guided by your own truths. And how people react is entirely their business. Let them have their reactions. When you stop seeking love and approval outside yourself, you can experience the incredible joy of real freedom.

Is meditation the new black?

I came across this article, by John Horgan, questioning the benefits of the new meditation craze. I thought he made some interesting observations, and on some level I agree with him. I sent him the following email; probably worthwhile to share here as well.

I think that one of the issues with meditation is that proper instructions are not included. Sitting still and trying to “not meditating-buddha-1542957think” is not what it’s about. You are correct that meditation, in and of itself, does very little. Just having a meditation practice doesn’t make you happier, or more peaceful, or nicer. It’s what one does during meditation that leads to awakening (or doesn’t, as the case may be for most people). What’s missing in most traditions (as they are presented in the mainstream), is the method of self-inquiry. (It’s what you’re actually supposed to “do” during meditation).

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When you look within…

This is a beautiful excerpt from The Art of Sexual Magic, by Margo Anand.51fXQLsEE4L._SX405_BO1,204,203,200_

When I put aside my prejudices and looked at my deepest motivations and fears, I was surprised to be confronted by a rather sorry-looking individual, covered with bandages, limping along on a crutch, incapable of hurting anyone.

I immediately recognized him. It was me. It was my wounded self, a symbolic representation of all those doubts and fears about myself that I had so carefully hidden from public view for so many years. And when I looked a little closer at this injured being, my heart was deeply touched. I wanted to reach out and help him to heal, because I could see, beneath the bandages, that he was only a small boy, a helpless, wounded child.