"This R2 unit has a bad motivator!"

When I was in high school, I had my first experience of sitting meditation during a Tae Kwon Do class. I was sitting against the back wall, sweating and breathing deeply. I had been sparring, and now others were. Rather than watching them, though, I just focused my gaze ahead and concentrated on breathing.
I had never thought about meditating at that point, didn't really know what "meditation" consisted of. I was just comfortable, had a great awareness of my body (tired, slightly sore, but also energetic), and amazed that there was so much stillness as I saw the fixtures beneath the water fountain, the carpet, the walls, beyond and around the people punching, kicking, jumping and dodging. The only word that came to mind in that gap was "focus," and every experience of focus has, for me, referred back to that point in time and space.

Over the years, as employment and bills and Facebook posts have claimed so much of my time, effort and attention, that sense of focus has decreased all but entirely. Sometimes I even noticed the correlation between a lack of focus and the decrease of thoughts and activities that I consisted worthwhile... and yet I would not do anything to change it.

That was a big part of why coming to the abbey was important to me. Amid the comfort of home, the fun of games and movies, the deliciousness of beers and whiskeys, I wasn't feeling motivated to change--and yet I could see how not changing was affecting me and my experience of life. I'd known better.

Group meditation helped, because two or three times a week I would be in a room with other people practicing. The excuses at home* aren't so excusable once I've shown up to a place where Meditation is What I'm Doing For the Next Hour. But outside of that, I was still pretty lazy. The Buddha once told a musician that he should practice meditation like he tuned his strings: not too right, not too lose. I was practicing too loose.

On our third weekend here, we made a trip to Halifax for a program with Sakyong Mipham Rinpoche. We were all split up for housing with various kind folks from the Halifax sangha. Nobody to wake us up with sticks clacking, no morning chants. Back to alarm clocks, blue jeans, and a variety of food to choose from.** The routine we'd grown into over the first two weeks was obliterated, and I had to grow into it again.

Meditation can be tedious, and even boring, and it's very clear to me this week how difficult it is to face that after even a short break. But two hours into a three-hour session yesterday, I had that moment of focus, of being fully present like I had been in that Tae Kwon Do class twenty years ago.
It's a good start.

*gotta do the dishes, gotta get this movie back to the Red Box before I get charged again, gotta watch that movie before I can take it back...

**I chose barbecue for every meal.

Looking At Gampo Abbey

Of course, right now Gampo Abbey is front and center in my mind. I fill the spaces of my work day by reading about it, looking at photos, staring at the satellite image from Google Maps.
So here are all the things in one place, if you're interested:

Firstly, here's the program page at the GA website. There's a link to the residents' handbook at the bottom of the page.
And here is a link to information about Yarne, a six-week retreat that will follow the ordination.

Here are some photos
...and more photos.

And here are some accounts of people who have been there:
Emma
Lodro
Nordzin
Dennis Hunter
Groundskeeper Michelle

And here are some videos:
Life At the Abbey, with Pema Chodron
Breathing Space: Gampo Abbey featured on Oprah's Super Soul Sunday
Monks At Bat: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 (a short documentary about the annual softball game)
Glimpses of Yarne

Why?

On January 4, 2016, I will arrive at Gampo Abbey, a Buddhist monastery in the Shambhala tradition.

There are so many awesome things about this. (E.g., this is where Pema Chödrön resides as the spiritual director; it will be wicked cold and snowy; I will finally be residing at a monastery, which has been my path since I dropped out of college in 2001).

There are also a lot of crazy, scary things about this. I will be outside of the United States, which is the only place I'm familiar with living. I will be so far away from all the friends and family I know. I am trading in living in rural solitude for living with a small number of strangers who I will have to see every single day for months and months. Instead of watching The Walking Dead, I will be meditating. Instead of watching Doctor Who, I will be meditating. Instead of listening to... mmmm, you get the idea.

So, uh...

why am I doing this?

To say it feels right would be ridiculously simple. Because it does feel right, but it also feels wrong, and while it seems exciting, it also seems dreadful, and while it is so very exciting, it is already breaking my heart.

I could provide a handful of reasons, and they would all be mostly true. But the one thing that rings true and silences all the other thoughts is Trust.

The cycle of "work to live / live to work" doesn't appeal to me. The chief benefit, as far as I can tell, is a false sense of security. Trusting the world and the people around me affords me more freedom than architectural, mental, and emotional walls ever could. Knowing that things might not work out well for me allows me to trust fearlessly. I am captive to nothing but myself. 

That's enough.

I wasn't taught or shown this. I have seen this for myself through hours, decades of observing and becoming familiar with what I see and feel without expectation or judgment. 

This freedom is available to anyone, and it's not about quitting the job or leaving the home. It's about trusting my lungs to breathe when my wallet is empty, and putting my feet on the floor despite the monster under the bed. And the more that I practice it, the more I am capable of sharing it with other people. It is said that fearlessness is a form of generosity and, even though I hesitate to give myself credit for anything, I can see it.

I see it even with the small amount of practice I do now. 

For many years now, I have wondered what life would be like if I devoted much more time to my practice of being me. It's the source of my happiness, even when being me is not very enjoyable, and it's the only thing I've ever done that's benefited me or anyone else. It is precious and worth cultivating.

So that is why I am doing this, going to Gampo Abbey to study as a monk: To see what happens as I expand and deepen my effort into the only art I know. And it's worth it to me, to face all the excitement, dread, joy, loss, absence, snow, and awkward social situations. 

A Lineage of Revolution

In February 2011, I had borrowed a car to join friends for breakfast in Tucson. We met to discuss what was soon to become the Rosewater farm experiment.
While I was driving, I heard a news report about the protest that was happening in Tahrir Square. I got very excited about the news. I had known that some kind of revolution was brewing for some time--that's what many of my conversations had been about for the previous three years, and that's what Rosewater (that name came later) was meant to be part of.
For the past twenty years now, I have been thirsty for change, eager to create the world I feel good about living in.
The word "revolution" means something different to me, now. I recognize that we are in a constant state of revolution, and it is up to us as individuals to embrace it.

Buddhism is a revolution. 2,600 years ago, Siddhartha Gautama stood up to the world he had been given, and decided instead to search for the world he wanted to call home. Once he found it within, he made friends, traveled, and discussed their discoveries and insights. Without telephones, without the internet, without even newspapers, this is how ideas were spread. 2,500 years later, the ideas had made their way from India to the North American shores.

In 2011, things were able to move much more quickly. Six months after the protests in Tahrir Square had begun, the sparks that would become Occupy Wall Street were catching. Only a year later, so much of the world was on fire.
While cynics may point out that the Occupy movement petered out quickly, a lot has changed as a result of those protests. And a lot continues to: the groups of thousands did not simply disband. They diversified into more specialized groups of hundreds and dozens, still stirring up change.

But revolution did not begin in Tahrir Square in 2011, just like it didn't begin 250 years ago in America, and it didn't begin 2,600 years ago in India.
Revolution began with the very first person who accepted his- or herself, and made an effort to show this to others. Since then, such people have encountered those who saw, those who refused to see, and those who were inspired to do the same, in an unbroken web of interactions, for thousands and thousands of years.

Revolution can occur in anyone's life. You don't need to march down the street with banners and torches in protest. You might not need the kind of change that those kinds of protests initiate. Maybe you just need to have a conversation with a loved one. Maybe you just need other people at the bus stop to understand that you're a human being, too. Maybe you just need to face yourself in the mirror. These might seem like small things, unworthy of the term "revolution," but if you've done them after having difficulty you can't deny the massive change that comes about.
Self-acceptance can be incredibly difficult. Revealing it to others can be, too. For inspiration, we can draw on the strength of millions of people who have made the effort in the past. Embrace the revolution that has continued for so long,  and celebrate your role as the warrior who accepts the baton today. This is no small thing. Once you pass the baton, you have no idea where it will go. This was the Buddha's revolution, and it can be yours. 

The One and Only Right Way To Meditate, Totally Definitely.

I get asked a lot about how to begin a meditation practice. Like, several times a week. And, I don't know. I came at all wrong.
I've worked with depression my whole life, and I grew up without many distractions from life. I came home from school most days and just sat in the woods. My depression was confounding, and I had nothing to do but examine it. I was insightful because I was curious. At an age where most males in my culture are probably thinking, "how can I even have sex" I was thinking "how can life be so painful and how can I even just live with it." (All my ex-girlfriends are now nodding sagely.) I meditated so damn much, and yet I had never heard of meditation.
I only began formally practicing meditation two years ago. So, how do you get started with a meditation practice? Bub, I'm right there with you. How do we?

First of all, someone who probably knows better than I do made this list, so really I'd say start there.
(The first on the list is usually my first recommendation, too.)

As for my own advice, the first thing is say is:
1. Want to.
There are all kinds of benefits to meditation. There are also all kinds of benefits to veganism, capitalism, daily exercise, drug addiction, and running a non-profit organization. Figure out what you want, and then figure out what will get you to it.
Meditation is a skill like masonry or sword-swallowing. If you don't want what meditation will bring to your life, then the answer to "how do I begin a meditation practice" is <i>don't</i>.

1b. Check it out.
If you don't know enough about what meditation has to offer, look into it. Read some of those books. Read articles online. Ask. (I get asked how to meditate often, yet never <i>why</i> I meditate. This seems weird to me, since most people indicate that they think meditation is a really weird thing to do.)
These are a few of the benefits I attribute to my practice:
I am happy.
I almost never lose my temper.
I appreciate things more.
I talk to people easily.
People are comfortable around me.
People talk to me easily.
I can release stress more easily than other people can.
I am okay.

That is just my list, and it's only a partial one. Other people have experienced benefits I haven't needed to yet. As time passes, I find some things that I used to deal with easily have become difficult. Some things that used to be difficult are second-nature to me. Which reminds me of probably the greatest benefit:
The ability to deal with change, which is constant.

2. Be curious.
You see that table there? [points at table] You know where it came from? It came from a few trees that grew in a forest. Those trees soaked up nutrients from a ground made of the dead plants and animals of thousands of years, as well as the rain and the air and the freaking sun, which is all the way over there. [points at the sun]
The table also came from tools which were made of metal, which was mined as ore, refined, and manufactured. (And that process came from thousands of years of trial, error, and innovation).
It also came from a store [insert long-winded explanation here], and it also came from the fact that you needed a table, and so someone made it, someone stocked it, you bought it.

How often do you walk into the room and think at all about that table?
How often do you walk into a situation and think about your reaction to it?
Hostility comes from somewhere. Acceptance comes from somewhere. Fear comes from somewhere. Shame comes from somewhere. Confusion comes from, well, everywhere.
If you are thinking of meditating because you struggle with anger, then get curious about anger. Don't obsess about anger! (or whatever it is that is coming up for you!) Just be curious, like a child is curious about a feather or a cloud.

2b. Be kind to yourself.
All that shit is going to come up. Anger, shame, hostility, self-consciousness, boredom, etc. You probably have issues you didn't even know you had.
Meditation isn't unusual because mystical people brought it from mystical lands. Meditation is unusual because it is about not avoiding anything. Think of that scene from <i>The Empire Strikes Back</i>, where Yoda makes Luke Skywalker walk into the creepy woods and face his daddy issues. In fact, think of the entire movie.
Meditating is a kind thing to do to yourself, even when it feels painful or scary, because you are doing it with the motivation of benefiting yourself (refer to Step 1).

3. Be patient.
Just... that's it. Be patient. (Luckily, patience is another benefit of meditation. So it gets easier the more you do it.)

4. Find people to meditate with.
Everything's better with friends. There's safety in numbers. There's strength in numbers. Etc.
Some days, I'm just not feeling it, but being around other people who are motivates me. Other times, I just don't want to disrupt the other people in the room, so I make myself stay still. Either way, group meditation keeps me on point.
But it's not just that. It is a great part of my practice to just be surrounded by people who are also practicing. A sangha (which is what we in the biz call it) is something different from friends, different from family. It is a community. Comrades, partners, people to support us when we need support, and people to keep us accountable when that's what we need. People to have tea with and lunch with and just understand us. Friends can be sangha, family can be sangha, but they can also not be sangha. If you don't have that, then look for the people who can (and will) be that. (HOT TIP: They're probably looking for you, too.)
A sangha is not necessary for meditation practice, but having one makes it much, much easier, more pleasant, and more enjoyable.

5. Do it.
On the days that we feel motivated and optimistic, we should meditate. On the days when we just can't stand to face the world, we should meditate. On the days when everyone in the family is visiting and we have deadlines to meet, we should meditate. Because it is the consistency of practice that makes it strong.
Set aside some time (twenty to thirty minutes, ideally) every day to sit down and do it. If a day comes along and you can't meditate at that time, or for that long, find a minute here or five minutes there. Even if you only do it for one minute every day for a thousand days in a row, you remembered to do it. Keep it up!

5b. Or maybe don't do it.
Did you forget to do it yesterday? That's fine. Did you remember that you intended to, but still didn't do it? That's fine. Did you just not want to do it? That's fine (refer to Step 1).

So that's my answer. I doubt most of that comes as a surprise, really. We live in a world where happiness is supposed to be complicated. When people tell us that meditation is super effective, it's our nature to look for that next complicated thing. But I think we've all heard that meditation is a way to appreciate the simplicity of life. So it makes sense that it's a simple process.
You sit,
and you breathe.
Meditation itself is simple. It's just beginning the practice that's complicated, because you have to change your habits of acting and thinking.
If you want to.

The Propensity to Be Bothered

Being Brave

I, Milarepa, am not afraid of demons.
If Milarepa was afraid of demons,
There would be little profit in a knowledge of things as they really are.