It's been a long, hot summer and the heat has kept me hiding indoors a lot more than usual. Nature-loving me spent a lot of time hosing down the plants and filling the birdbath. The man who faithfully comes to mow the lawn has lately been mostly raising clouds of dust out of the mottled areas of brown grass.
But I'm finding little jewels among the last vestiges of summer. Young zinnia plants still popping up through the dry soil and then, somehow bravely producing flowers. Birds showing up at the birdbath. Butterflies of many colors that seemingly come from nowhere, doing what looks like the show-biz finale where all the cast comes on stage for the grand bow. Those are some of the works and wonders of Nature. I even saw a late-season lightning bug the other evening.
In the totally human world, with politics and war news occupying so much of what we read, see, and hear, sometimes I need to just turn away from it and invest in what I'll call "hope". Hope, for me, is a supreme treasure, a rescuing spiritual vehicle ... for me it can be found in reading inspirational quotes, gazing up at the blue sky, watching the dawn climb and glide over the horizon, seeing a comical magazine cartoon, sending money to one of the many animal rescue organizations (http://animalministry.blogspot.com), spending meditative time -- at my piano or keyboard, meditative time while walking among stands of trees, and perhaps the most serious meditative time in the sanctuary of my designated meditation/breathing room. Hope, for me, is getting the inspiration for a new song. I don't think I've mentioned my newest song "Early In The Morning", recorded at Songwriters Studio a month or two ago. It almost wrote itself one morning while I was waking up (morning is my most creative time). I put it up on Sound Cloud and Reverbnation. It's also on a CD single with a beautiful label created by Sandy. It's also on my revised personal website at www.claralandau.com. For me, that song is loaded with hope!
Anyway, hope is one of the most important by-products and treasures of love. "Peace is the vision; love is the key" is one of my original quotes; the other two are "we are all in the same cosmic canoe" and "whatever works"; I think the three of them are quite compatible. Let's look for the real treasures and help them to endure.
Showing posts with label meditation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label meditation. Show all posts
Monday, September 12, 2016
Monday, May 11, 2015
Talking It Over ...
(I originally posted this in March of this year and then took it down after a few days, thinking that it was too self-revealing. I kept the hard copy and decided I ought to re-post it, so here it is):
I'll share the following in the hopes that it might benefit a reader or two in the way it helps me. This is about feelings :)
When my feelings -- especially anxious feelings -- start grabbing a monopoly on my mindset and my thoughts, I like to get out of the house and on the road or to a park. I also have a meditation room in my home that is very welcoming, where I like to spend some time each day.
While driving or at a relatively serene natural place (or even, at urgent times, in a shopping center parking lot), I make the effort to focus on the feeling that is bothering me and causing my discomfort. As I write this, I recall that as a child, I was taught by example and by habit to repress my feelings. So in my past (when I was young), my strategy -- if it could be called that -- was to dodge, deny, or shift my feelings of discomfort so that they would seem to "go away". This resulted in what I remember as a never-ending drama that tended to put me in the role of emotional shape-shifter. It really was an effort to modify or appease or justify or collude with whatever was causing the uncomfortable feeling. And it caused me to suffer.
At some point in more recent times, it became clear to me, largely through the writings of my favorite author, Thich Nhat Hahn (to whom I was gently steered by my very close friend), that looking directly at a feeling is the best thing to do. At first that seemed difficult and sometimes it still is. But, honestly, it is one of the best medicines I have found (the others being meditation, prayer, nature, and music).
When I chose the post title "Talking It Over", I meant talking it over with Self when each urgent or important feeling arises -- truly acknowledging the feeling. As I need to actually hear my own voice speaking of my specific feelings, this conversation is best done aloud in a vehicle or within some other personal and private environment. Yes, I'm suggesting talking to oneself. The conversation can go into detail or it can be simple like saying "This is a feeling of anxiety", "This is a feeling of fear", "This is a feeling of need", "This is a feeling of disappointment, "This is a feeling of resentment", "This is a feeling of anger" -- and that BIG one -- "This is a feeling of insecurity". Once the statement is uttered, the feeling becomes easier to understand and handle. It also, I believe, helps to bring angelic energy to my aid.
I try to remember to similarly also bring to the surface positive emotional feelings like "This is a feeling of wonder", "This is a feeling of joy", "This is a feeling of trust", "This is a feeling of achievement", "This is a feeling of love", "This is a feeling of peace", "This is a feeling of acceptance", "This is a feeling of comfort", "This is a feeling of gratitude". The utterance of the words, I believe, reinforces angelic and positive energy.
Of course it's a very good thing to be able to be "talking it over" with a trusted friend or a professional listener. Always, though, Self is there as a valued, accessible consultant.
I'll share the following in the hopes that it might benefit a reader or two in the way it helps me. This is about feelings :)
When my feelings -- especially anxious feelings -- start grabbing a monopoly on my mindset and my thoughts, I like to get out of the house and on the road or to a park. I also have a meditation room in my home that is very welcoming, where I like to spend some time each day.
While driving or at a relatively serene natural place (or even, at urgent times, in a shopping center parking lot), I make the effort to focus on the feeling that is bothering me and causing my discomfort. As I write this, I recall that as a child, I was taught by example and by habit to repress my feelings. So in my past (when I was young), my strategy -- if it could be called that -- was to dodge, deny, or shift my feelings of discomfort so that they would seem to "go away". This resulted in what I remember as a never-ending drama that tended to put me in the role of emotional shape-shifter. It really was an effort to modify or appease or justify or collude with whatever was causing the uncomfortable feeling. And it caused me to suffer.
At some point in more recent times, it became clear to me, largely through the writings of my favorite author, Thich Nhat Hahn (to whom I was gently steered by my very close friend), that looking directly at a feeling is the best thing to do. At first that seemed difficult and sometimes it still is. But, honestly, it is one of the best medicines I have found (the others being meditation, prayer, nature, and music).
When I chose the post title "Talking It Over", I meant talking it over with Self when each urgent or important feeling arises -- truly acknowledging the feeling. As I need to actually hear my own voice speaking of my specific feelings, this conversation is best done aloud in a vehicle or within some other personal and private environment. Yes, I'm suggesting talking to oneself. The conversation can go into detail or it can be simple like saying "This is a feeling of anxiety", "This is a feeling of fear", "This is a feeling of need", "This is a feeling of disappointment, "This is a feeling of resentment", "This is a feeling of anger" -- and that BIG one -- "This is a feeling of insecurity". Once the statement is uttered, the feeling becomes easier to understand and handle. It also, I believe, helps to bring angelic energy to my aid.
I try to remember to similarly also bring to the surface positive emotional feelings like "This is a feeling of wonder", "This is a feeling of joy", "This is a feeling of trust", "This is a feeling of achievement", "This is a feeling of love", "This is a feeling of peace", "This is a feeling of acceptance", "This is a feeling of comfort", "This is a feeling of gratitude". The utterance of the words, I believe, reinforces angelic and positive energy.
Of course it's a very good thing to be able to be "talking it over" with a trusted friend or a professional listener. Always, though, Self is there as a valued, accessible consultant.
Tuesday, October 14, 2014
Attitude Of Gratitude ...
One day a couple of weeks ago, I did something I hadn't done in quite a while (and something I ought to do much more often). I went to my favorite park and walked and recited aloud the things for which I am thankful. I spoke the thoughts as they occurred to me -- a walking meditation. And as I walked and talked, my words were heard only by the elements, the Great Energy, and myself. This particular park is where I've often sought comfort; the trees are willing to absorb my sadness and my concerns and eager to help me celebrate my joys.
I write of this so that it might be helpful and beneficial to others -- maybe to you. Walking among the trees, audibly speaking or whispering thanks, is an empowering and liberating thing to do :)
I write of this so that it might be helpful and beneficial to others -- maybe to you. Walking among the trees, audibly speaking or whispering thanks, is an empowering and liberating thing to do :)
Friday, July 24, 2009
Quiet Miracles –
It is a bit after 5 p.m. on Friday, July 24th and I’m sitting in the sanctuary of TVUUC. There is an exquisite labyrinth set up in the sanctuary. If I felt more steady on my feet at the moment, I would walk it. Well, it’s good to sit here and just breathe ... in: "Peace", out: "Yes". "Peace – Yes." That is my personal meditation and it works well for me; I even use it to ease my asthma.
It feels quietly exciting to sit here – I’m in the seat I always used until that morning last July 27th when I got up and changed seats and sat in the one directly behind it. I’ve said before that I did that "for some inexplicable reason", but that’s not quite true. That morning, something ("the small voice"), had made me edgy and told me to change seats; actually, it had almost shouted that instruction. And because I listened and heeded, I am able to be here this evening. But that is not what inspired this post's title.
There are many activities, a special service, and a guitar concert scheduled for this weekend and Monday. They are intended to celebrate the church’s spiritual triumph over the intent of the man who wanted to kill us all – the triumph of love over hate. They are intended, also, to pour out our thanks to the community of Knoxville churches and individuals that gave us so much support in the days and weeks following the shootings. My own personal preference is the reverent, centering approach we have this evening. It seems certain that the media will be here on Sunday and Monday. There will be a lot of people, maybe even throngs, as was the case one year ago. I’ve wondered, worried about how the events may affect the families of those who were slain.
I was injured. I was able to walk ... no, crawl, out of the sanctuary that morning, deafened; I was able to shakily stand on my feet, and able to put myself on auto-pilot to drive myself home ... after which I collapsed and found myself in a crescendo of almost indescribable physical and emotional pain, the ramifications of which evolved over several months. How I resisted it. How I hated to be a victim – I hated it. When the migrating pellets caused my eye to hemorrhage on election day morning, that happening brought me to my emotional knees. I wondered if I was losing my eye (my good eye). I learned that I would need to stay behind dark glasses and/or dodge people for a month. It was frightening to look at myself in the mirror, so I certainly didn't want to frighten others. But a miracle happened. Two miracles (or a two-part miracle)!
One beautiful afternoon when the neighborhood was quiet and no one else was around, I was sitting in my backyard on the old wrought iron bench, situated under a very old (and wise) maple tree. I had my dog with me. I became aware of a peaceful feeling – it felt almost alien ... and so calming. In that moment, a perfectly shaped, golden leaf fluttered down from the maple tree and gently brushed my arm as it came to rest on my left hand. I understood this leaf to be a very special gift. The moment was a time of enlightenment and communion.
After a while, I got up and went into the house, where I stood in front of my full-length mirror, looked into the reflection of my face, and heard myself saying aloud "I love you – no matter how you look. I treasure every part of you and the miracle that you are still functioning as a living unit." I remember those as my exact words. From that moment, I’ve had a new regard and respect for myself ... and for my music and general imprint on the world.
I became gentle with myself and used (my own) healing touch on my forehead and eye. I made peace with my pellets, which responded by quietly settling down. Of course, during that month away from church (while my eye recovered), the other congregants had moved on in their own individual and communal ways of healing. When I did return in mid-December, there was a sea of new faces; there were throngs of people. For a while, I felt like a stranger, out of cadence with everyone else. My drama has been and is amazing.
Meanwhile, my quiet, miracle messenger maple leaf is in a picture frame, pressed under glass for all time to come, and hanging on my bedroom wall. The memory of its gentle stroke upon my hand reminds me that my life ... and life itself (in the continuum) will go on ... yes, changed, but ever vital and precious.
It feels quietly exciting to sit here – I’m in the seat I always used until that morning last July 27th when I got up and changed seats and sat in the one directly behind it. I’ve said before that I did that "for some inexplicable reason", but that’s not quite true. That morning, something ("the small voice"), had made me edgy and told me to change seats; actually, it had almost shouted that instruction. And because I listened and heeded, I am able to be here this evening. But that is not what inspired this post's title.
There are many activities, a special service, and a guitar concert scheduled for this weekend and Monday. They are intended to celebrate the church’s spiritual triumph over the intent of the man who wanted to kill us all – the triumph of love over hate. They are intended, also, to pour out our thanks to the community of Knoxville churches and individuals that gave us so much support in the days and weeks following the shootings. My own personal preference is the reverent, centering approach we have this evening. It seems certain that the media will be here on Sunday and Monday. There will be a lot of people, maybe even throngs, as was the case one year ago. I’ve wondered, worried about how the events may affect the families of those who were slain.
I was injured. I was able to walk ... no, crawl, out of the sanctuary that morning, deafened; I was able to shakily stand on my feet, and able to put myself on auto-pilot to drive myself home ... after which I collapsed and found myself in a crescendo of almost indescribable physical and emotional pain, the ramifications of which evolved over several months. How I resisted it. How I hated to be a victim – I hated it. When the migrating pellets caused my eye to hemorrhage on election day morning, that happening brought me to my emotional knees. I wondered if I was losing my eye (my good eye). I learned that I would need to stay behind dark glasses and/or dodge people for a month. It was frightening to look at myself in the mirror, so I certainly didn't want to frighten others. But a miracle happened. Two miracles (or a two-part miracle)!
One beautiful afternoon when the neighborhood was quiet and no one else was around, I was sitting in my backyard on the old wrought iron bench, situated under a very old (and wise) maple tree. I had my dog with me. I became aware of a peaceful feeling – it felt almost alien ... and so calming. In that moment, a perfectly shaped, golden leaf fluttered down from the maple tree and gently brushed my arm as it came to rest on my left hand. I understood this leaf to be a very special gift. The moment was a time of enlightenment and communion.
After a while, I got up and went into the house, where I stood in front of my full-length mirror, looked into the reflection of my face, and heard myself saying aloud "I love you – no matter how you look. I treasure every part of you and the miracle that you are still functioning as a living unit." I remember those as my exact words. From that moment, I’ve had a new regard and respect for myself ... and for my music and general imprint on the world.
I became gentle with myself and used (my own) healing touch on my forehead and eye. I made peace with my pellets, which responded by quietly settling down. Of course, during that month away from church (while my eye recovered), the other congregants had moved on in their own individual and communal ways of healing. When I did return in mid-December, there was a sea of new faces; there were throngs of people. For a while, I felt like a stranger, out of cadence with everyone else. My drama has been and is amazing.
Meanwhile, my quiet, miracle messenger maple leaf is in a picture frame, pressed under glass for all time to come, and hanging on my bedroom wall. The memory of its gentle stroke upon my hand reminds me that my life ... and life itself (in the continuum) will go on ... yes, changed, but ever vital and precious.
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