Imagine my surprise, sitting a full hour in silent and irremediable fear in the world to find the body forgetting its own fear the instant it opened and placed its unassuming hands on life’s enduring pain and the world for one moment closed its terrifying eyes in gratitude saying, “This is my body, I am…
The practise “Just Like Me” is a variation of the well known loving kindness practise. It allows us as mindfulness practitioners to widen the circle of awareness to move beyond reflecting purely on our own experience and reaching out to others those that make up the common humanity that we so often speak of in…
I wake earlier, now that the birds have come And sing in the unfailing trees. On a cot by an open window I lie like land used up, while spring unfolds. Now of all voyagers I remember, who among them Did not board ship with grief among their maps? Till it seemed men never go…
enter your sadness with open eyes curious and intrepid knowing it has purpose remove the partition between it and the beautiful and mingle its darkness with the light of time until your heart is enlarged into a great globe of being that cannot but glow by Maria Popova Maria Popova wrote this poem as a…
These days when I listen deeply to another I imagine holding a beautiful bowl in my lap. Often I chose a large Tibetan singing bowl. At other times only knotty wood will do. I embrace the round receptacle And simply hold it, A safe container That others can fill with their truth, Even when the…
The Springer Mindfulness Journal has published the second article of the Mahamudra and Mindfulness Series, written by Mindfulness Association tutor and Buddhist monk Choden. As with the first article, Choden explores a central tenet of Mahamudra teaching – this time compassion – and how it is central to modern mindfulness practice. Compassion is fundamental to the work…
I want to give you something necessary as rain and lasting as honey, something useful as a spoon, something helpful as wheels. Sometimes it feels so inadequate to offer you a poem, a prayer, the small light of a candle, a hammock woven only of blessings. Still, as you meet these difficult hours I wish…
It’s like the scent of rain after a month of drought, the way it rises up and fills the lungs, quiets the body and gentles the mind – that’s what it’s like when, after grasping and spinning and reaching and clenching at last, exhausted with my own fear, I lay my hand on my own…
Once, I ran from fear so fear controlled me. Until I learned to hold fear like a newborn. Listen to it, but not give in. Honor it, but not worship it. Fear could not stop me anymore. I walked with courage into the storm. I still have fear, but it does not have me. Once,…