November 20, 2022

“In the universe, there are things that are known, and things that are unknown, and in between there are doors.” William Blake (1757-1827)

This week I've had a barrage of questions flowing across the computer from various people checking in as the holidays approach. On one end of the emotional spectrum was someone wanting my thoughts on the underpinnings of the emotion of dread. This was followed by another friend who spoke of a new anxiety around going places alone. At the other end of the spectrum, was a note from someone else who was perplexed by a formal health reminder from his cardiologist's office to practice gratitude this month! November has been a month of escalating anxiety, with the elections, the weather, ongoing war in Ukraine, cumulative reports of violence and continued health warnings of a "tri-epidemic" of flu, RSV, and Covid. No wonder the word dread comes to mind.

Like anxiety, dread is anticipatory fear--different from the natural fear we feel in the moment when actually facing a threat or danger. While we may use the word dread to describe our own resistance to an anticipated difficult situation, usually it's an exaggeration of our anxiety--our feelings of uncertainty and lack of control. Dread is the more intense emotion because it carries an often non-specific sense of impending doom. The word "doom" itself is shadowy and the dread is shadowy. It can be part of accumulated anxiety (like a panic attack), or accumulated despair and sadness (an aspect of depression), and yes, it is possible it is intuitive. The bottom line is that things feel hopeless and dreadful until we face them head-on. If they are shadowy and undefined, we cannot mobilize our resources to solve and adapt. With the level of misinformation and deliberate disinformation in social media and our current society, dread can easily become a collective experience, hovering in shadow. Dread (and anxiety) is countered in the willingness to face the truth.

And gratitude? Well, it is Thanksgiving week. It's hard to maintain darkness and doom when your heart is grateful. The grateful heart is no longer just a metaphor; there is cumulating scientific research that gratitude practice is indeed healing and strengthens our physical heart by making us more resilient toward stress, lowering blood pressure, improving immune function decreasing inflammation, improving mood and sleep, and creating stronger, healthier relationships. Gratitude remains an ancient core spiritual practice of the world's religions. We are just beginning to grasp the fullness of it's Grace. William Blake put it this way, "Gratitude is Heaven itself. There is no Heaven without gratitude." (Susan Nettleton)

Gratitude practice ideas from the American Heart Association: https://www.heart.org/.../simple-ways-to-practice-gratitude

For a poetic take on your Thanksgiving cooking: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/.../how-to-stuff-a-pepper

And gratitude for Natures' bounty, including Grapefruit: https://www.stateoftheartsnj.com/958/

November 13, 2022

"I will show you what is glorious. The sun is glorious. When he shineth in the clear sky, when he sitteth on his throne in the heavens, and looketh abroad over the earth, he is the most glorious and excellent object the eye can behold." John Keble (1792-1866)

Yesterday, I received a text from a friend who was happily congratulating herself for rising early in the morning, tackling and completing her errands by mid morning, while I was still finding my way to coffee. It occurred to me that this Sunday is a good time to shake off the lethargy that Autumn's lengthening nights and shorter days often bring by spending time in sunlight.

While we adjust to Daylight Savings time, await further election news, and perhaps reflect on the stalled Sunshine Protection Act, take your spiritual practice into sunlight. Even if you are on the go from here to there, linger outside a bit to savor the sun. If you are in winter storm mode and must wait, find that inner correlate: the gift of light, always there, always supporting.

Life outside our homes takes us beyond our self-preoccupation and into both the reality of other people, known and unknown, and the natural world. Over the last century we learned the potential harmful effects of too much and too intense ultraviolet sunlight on our skin, yet the sun, even with brief exposure, remains a source of essential health in other ways. Sunlight activates the release of serotonin, boosting mood, and preventing or lifting seasonal depression. Sunlight is also the source of Vitamin D essential to human health, both the regulation of our immune system and of bone strength. Early morning sunlight aids in regulating our circadian rhythms crucial to regulating our cycles of waking and sleeping. There are other positive factors as well, including some anti-bacterial effects, promoting healing of skin disorders, and in certain circumstances, blood pressure regulation-- aspects that are under study.

"Every day, priests minutely examine the Law


And endlessly chant complicated sutras.


Before doing that, though, they should learn


How to read the love letters sent by the wind
and rain, the snow and moon.

" Ikkyu (Crazy Cloud Anthology of A Zen poet of Medieval Japan, tr. Sonya Artuzen) from poetry-chaikana.com

All of this is a reminder that human life is supported by our relationship with nature. As we alter nature, we alter that which supports us, in a highly intricate, complex system that we only minutely understand. But we do understand some things; sunlight calls us outside--even as the weather becomes less predictable. Today, I'm taking my coffee into the sunlight. Consider it a spiritual practice. (Susan Nettleton)

for further poetic perspective, follow the links

https://poetry-chaikhana.com/.../DawnofWisdom/index.html

https://allpoetry.com/poem/8495653-Solar-by-Philip-Lark

November 6, 2022

"Paradise" by Larry Morris

Gold

trees

in

my

window

Sunday

morning

Albuquerque

November

This Sunday is a good time to stop for a moment and recognize the beauty of November. Hopefully, wherever you are, you can find that beauty and let it bring you peace. Let today have a space for peace before we all gear up for the social pressure of this November. That pressure includes the beginning of the Holiday Season with Thanksgiving gatherings, often travel, and all the concerns around Covid and health in general. We have the ongoing pressure of inflation and the various events that underlie financial worries. And in the forefront, Tuesday is election day with an outcome that--despite polls, ads, social media and speeches-- remains an unknown, in an atmosphere that includes deliberate attempts to further polarize and divide America.

Let your inner peace, expand to a collective outer peace, and let that expansion in turn, deepen your personal peace. From the tradition of New Thought with it's emphasis on our individual spiritual consciousness as the bedrock of outer peace, we have what seems like an over simplistic idea: Peace begins with me. Yet, the collective is but the sum total of the peace of individuals. Collective peace begins with individual realization of the intricate interweaving of all creation, in an affirmation of the essential Goodness and Peace of the Whole. We name that "the Spiritual", or "God". Emmett Fox wrote: "The secret of happiness and harmony is Peace of Mind--and there is no other. You find Peace of Mind by getting right with God."

How do you "get right" with God? The answer again is an individual one. It comes in moving beyond anything within your consciousness, your awareness, your feeling nature, that has separated you, or built a barrier between your experience of your life right now and the Peace of God. As St. Paul wrote (Romans 8: 38-39), "For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God...."

Where there is love, there is Peace. (Myanmar proverb)

A willingness to see beyond your mental rehearsals, a renewed faith and trust, a new receptivity to positive participation, a return to prayer and meditation, forgiveness, surrender, giving way, letting go--all of these are possible path's to Peace of Mind. Follow the 'nagging feeling' of your heart, leading you, and thereby all of us, to Peace. (Susan Nettleton)

Follow the links below for more poems by Larry Morris on Peace of Mind.

https://hillsidesource.com/release

https://hillsidesource.com/your-guidance-for-me-poem

https://hillsidesource.com/almost-enough

October 30, 2022

Tomorrow is Halloween--a day and night mixture of traditions, history and spiritual tones, linked with both pagan practices and Christianity, as well as All Saints Day and Day of the Dead. It can stir up controversy, the genuinely frightening, often mischief, and simply fun. Today it has me thinking of Prasad and generosity. Prasad is a spiritual practice from Hinduism; it is the act of bringing food as a spiritual offering to the Divine. The Divine (or representative in various forms) in turn shares the food with the devotee, in a spiritualized process of exchange and mutual enjoyment. Visits with my friend and teacher, U.G. Krishnamurti, often involved spontaneous Prasad. It was well know that he had a preference for Leonidas Belgian white chocolates and visitors would unexpectedly arrive with a box, or someone would ship a delivery box to surprise him. Immediately, he would present everyone in the room with a piece of Heaven. Whatever the mood of the day would lift, had to lift, with this incredibly indulgent confection. Refusal was not possible. Those who tried to avoid calories or the fine ingredients of cream, sugar and coffee would find themselves coerced to eat even more in their resistance, as U.G. declared, "We need to sweeten you up." And sweeten it did. There was magic in those moments.

Halloween, it strikes me, is a holiday of generosity as well as collective fantasies. There are cultures which still practice a religious respect and hospitality to arriving travelers and strangers, because the stranger at your door may be a Divine being in disguise. Modern American life has one night of tradition that opens the door to disguise--in every imaginable form--rewarding the visit with candy. We have our community events as well, abundant with sweets. In spite of all the corn syrup, fructose, and artificial flavors and colors, one night of sweet overload is collectively understood as mysteriously useful. And there is a generosity of shared creativity, especially here in L.A. County, where neighborhoods are bursting with amazing transformations of Halloween decor, freely offered to all. Is it possible to approach all of this as a kind of Prasad, an offering that is shared, an exchange of wonder and delight in play and pretense, Lila (the Divine play that is life itself), a time of offering and generosity of spirit?

Even if you choose to turn out the lights and lock your door, and withdraw from the neighborhood parade (which I have done on many Halloweens), look for a moment of Prasad this week. Share your sweetness. (Susan Nettleton)

I shared this link previously in January, but it is worth re-reading this week as Oct. turns to Nov. https://www.poetryfoundation.org/.../the-season-of...

October 23, 2022

This week I've returned to contemplating the uniqueness of the individual spiritual path and its impact on relationship. As I wrote on our website (hillsidesource.com) , "The Hillside Source presents the idea that every individual has his/her/its own connection to the spiritual underpinning of life. Even though life has but one Source, God being the traditional term for that Source, life produces individuals--each distinct and unique. Therefore, though we share countless commonalities and are ultimately interdependent, there are distinctions in how we find and express the Transcendent. Life is one; paths are infinite." While religion has the cultural power to establish communities based on shared beliefs and practices, over time, the variety of interpretations create rifts and divisions-- new denominations and sects form and branch away from traditional roots. At the core, communities, spiritual or otherwise, are made of individuals, just as families are. Each path, regardless of depth of agreement, differs from another's. Yet, within our spiritual pulls, we have both the pull to be unique and the pull to belong to and with others.

Someone once wrote me: "One has to give up a part of one's self in order to be a part of someone else life." My response was, "It depends on your definition of self". Whether we are talking about daily worldly life, or whether we are speaking of the spiritual life, the issues are the same; we seemingly make compromises of our spiritual life, or our personal worldly wants and needs to "belong". But isn't this division an aspect of life itself? Is it possible to see that our spiritual life includes the flowing of life from separation to union, from giving to receiving, from accommodating to impeding, engagement to non-engagement and the reverse? With deepening awareness of an underlying unity and rhythm to life, our sense of self expands. As Walt Whitman put it, "Do I contradict myself? Very well then I contradict myself. (I am large, I contain multitudes)."

We tie ourselves in knots when we restrict our sense of self and spiritual practice too narrowly. But without some boundaries, it is impossible to navigate this complex world or follow our inner directive. The task calls for some elasticity that allows us to stretch the boundary of the self, and yet, pull back into shape to stabilize. Consider your own elasticity today as well as your unique path. (Susan Nettleton)

One form of this elasticity evident in contemporary poetry translations is in the translator's personal interpretation/meaning of spiritual poetry offered as a version of the poet's meaning.

Daniel Ladinsky's translation of St. Teresa of Avila (link below) is an example. Are the words hers or his? Does it matter? As history and religious authenticity, it may matter, as spiritual food perhaps not. Follow the link: https://thisunlitlight.com/.../24/i-loved-what-i-could-love/

October 16, 2022

It does not matter how slowly you go as long as you do not stop.” — Confucius

This morning I am considering the stops and starts of the spiritual journey. Actually, at this time in my sense of spirituality, there are are no stopping points; the spiritual is synonymous with life. Life and spirit are not two separate things. At some point, life as we know and experience it comes to a point we name as death, but death is not necessarily a stopping point. While we are living as the body and psyche of this individual identity in this world, we are living our spirituality. We may personally yearn for greater understanding, faith, or confirmation of spiritual states and transcendence, but despite our conscious striving and interpretation, we remain at the pinnacle of our spiritual life. Our longings and struggles are the exact movements that are opening life, creating and unfolding our individual lives as a creative spiritual process. Our times of insight and awakenings, in the same way, open and expand our lives further. Ebb and flow are principles of life and therefore of spirituality. Sometimes movement is dramatic and deeply satisfying, sometime movement is healing and deeply reassuring, sometimes life is devastatingly painful and hard--we feel abandoned-- and sometimes life is seemingly static and stuck. Is it really necessary to name any of these experiences as less than our spiritual good?

Emmett Fox offers the analogy of a boat that sails on the waves of high tide, but ends up running aground during low tide. Maybe some unexpected circumstances caused the grounding, or maybe lack of awareness. Sometimes it works to push the boat out, or seek emergency assistance, but what looks like one situation at low tide will be a completely different matter in 6 hours when high tide returns, which it will. The tide is nothing personal; it simply is the way of the water in the larger movement of life's gravitational pulls. We all have our times of being "grounded" in our spiritual life, caught up in social aspects, or responsibilities and duties that may sap our time, energy and spiritual focus. But these things are not separate, really, from the spiritual life. Time for spiritual practice and contemplation returns, especially if we don't fight with the ebb and flow, trying to force ourselves and everyone around us to align with our will or a rigid agenda. Instead, we stay the course set before us, and let our hearts remember the larger reality that all human drama is enfolded in--a spiritual life.

When new light shines on us, it often comes when we least expected it, not on demand. As the saying of Jesus (Matthew 24:44) directs, “Be ready, because the Son of Man will come at an hour when you do not expect him.” Rather than the traditional interpretation that Jesus was warning of his Apocalyptic return to Earth, Emmett Fox interprets this teaching metaphysically as an interior experience of Christ consciousness (or a spiritual Awakening or Insight) that arises unexpectedly, like "a thief in the night". The point is that illumination doesn't fit our personal time tables, but happens when the time is right, when new insight and revelation best serve the context of our lives. Our part is to leave that inner space actually open and receptive, whether events are fast-tracked or slow, exciting or boring, at high or low tide. (Susan Nettleton)

For a short poem by Larry Morris, follow the link: https://hillsidesource.com/freshstart

October 9, 2022

“Do you have the patience to wait Till your mud settles and the water is clear? Can you remain unmoving Till the right action arises by itself?” Lao Tzu

This Sunday I am thinking about the parallels between deep immersion in nature and deep immersion in meditation. Both serve to renew us. Mounting research in the field of Ecopsychology shows that time spent in nature benefits human health. Various studies highlight the benefits: lower blood pressure, lower stress hormone levels, lower anxiety, enhanced immune system, increased self-esteem, improved sleep and mood, and lower risk of cardiovascular disease. When we look at the research on meditation, we find the same health impact.

A 2019 Nature research project (20,000 people) from the European Centre for Environment and Human Health, established 2 hours a week as the standard time to spend in nature to achieve these benefits. That breaks down to 17.14 minutes a day. Weekly cumulative time is what matters in nature, not daily time. I'm breaking it down only to compare with daily meditation. The usual recommendation for health benefits from meditation is 10-20 minutes a day, in either 1 or 2 sessions. (Over the years, I have recommended a meditation beginner start with 10 or 15 minutes daily, and then increase by 5 minutes each year, until reaching what you learn is optimal for you.)

But as beneficial as they are, these comparisons around health research only touch the surface of human experience. Time spent in a park is healthier than time spent in a treeless concrete parking lot. Taking 10 minutes out of your day to calm your breath and quiet thought is healthier than spending time with muscle tension, fighting a keyboard, or a co-worker, and rehearsing disturbing events in your mind. Consider beyond this: deep immersion. Consider that this Sunday holds the opportunity for deep immersion, maybe in nature, maybe in meditation...or perhaps both.

What is important here is the letting go of the structures of daily thoughts, habits, routines, and place--the world of social pressure and human expectations in a human-constructed world. Instead, we re-enter what is natural, a natural outer field and a natural spiritual interior. There we find not only healing, but also a discovery: the right action arises by itself. (Susan Nettleton)

For a brilliant commentary by poet Ivan M. Granger on Gary Snyder's meditation/nature poem, "On Top", follow the link:

https://www.poetry-chaikhana.com/.../Sny.../OnTop/index.html

October 2, 2022

Last night, reflecting on the 1st of October, I recalled an unusual October morning when I was an undergraduate, walking across campus at the University of Houston--unusual in the sense that it was an incredibly vibrant day, a day of crisp cool air and vast, rich blue sky. All around, life was filled with energy, students rushing to classes or sprawled on grassy fields; the lovely oaks, and hedges surrounding the buildings, the buildings themselves, seemed to vibrate with a new quickening. Something popped into my head that simply said, "This is Fall"! It was as though I had never understood what the shift of seasons meant. ( In sub-tropic Houston, seasons were subtle.) For those few moments, the full impact of a seasonal shift hit me. For the first time, I understood the seasons as part of a larger mechanism of life that continually self-renews. I was renewed. My life was changing. And change it did--that fall brought powerful shifts in my relationships, my studies and my spiritual life.

With the extreme heat this September, the days have not given much hint of fall, but they have shortened and just now there is a hint of that golden light that the changing angle of the sun provides as we move into October. Erratic climate patterns and weather emergencies, have disrupted our intuitive sense of shifting seasons--not necessarily by the weather itself, but by the internal alarm that frequent alerts, urgent warnings and catastrophic news (even if far from home) trigger in the culture. Yet, we have within us our own awareness of the movements of nature; we are part of the way life is renewed again and again through the cycles of seasons. This week is a good time to feel the stirrings of that renewal. To do that, we need to quiet the alarm enough to truly feel the quickening. It seems to me a vital part of the environmental changes we will collectively make.

At the same time we can stay open to the spiritual level that turns the wheel of life's cycles and seasons. Each awakening to nature is a spiritual awakening. Each awakening to our personal interior response to the cycles and seasons is a spiritual awakening. That October day in Houston, I didn't just discover the power of the seasons; I discovered joy. (Susan Nettleton)

For a poetic nudge in contemplation of fall, follow the links:

https://www.poetry-chaikhana.com/.../AutumnMoon/index.html

https://www.poetry-chaikhana.com/.../Autumnchrysa/index.htm

https://www.poetry-chaikhana.com/.../SecondPoemth/index.html

September 25, 2022

I have been reflecting on a poem I came across yesterday by Indian poet Rabindranath Tagore (1861-1841) in his classic spiritual volume, Gitanjali, verse 88. Gitanjali is known as "Song Offerings", devotional verses that flow from the poet's spiritual journey. The book was Tagore's way of sorting through his relationship to God following a time of devastating personal losses.

Verse 88 (see link below) speaks of spiritual neglect in an abandoned temple where flowers and prayers are no longer offered, although flowers still bloom outside as festival days pass in silence. One lone devotee, who must enter the daily world of weary work, returns nightly with unmet longing. While the poem belongs to a larger context of verses, reading that specific one has me reflecting on the 21st century dynamic of spirituality and the world of work and material necessity. That is of course a timeless dynamic: the pull of the worldly life of commerce, of basic needs that morph into the desire for more than what is needed with the pressure to fulfill social expectations and/or achieve personal prestige and power. Urbanization, global economies, increasing technology and 24-hour nonstop "days" of availability, communication, shipments and deliveries, inflation and shortages, chip away at a rhythm of life that no longer supports time to nurture a spiritual life.

While ancient temples still offer a sacred space, even when abandoned (I am thinking of the moments I entered tourist-filled, exquisite cathedrals in Europe, and small abandoned neighborhood shrines in Japan and almost primordial cave temples in India), the real temple is the one we carry with us. We each have our own private place of prayer in our heart/mind, built of both intention and necessity. Today, if even for a few moments, stop to enter there. Bring your offering of gratitude and a new trust. The wearier you are, the better. This is where you truly rest and where you find there are not two worlds, the material and the spiritual, but one Source that supplies all. (Susan Nettleton)

for Tagore's verse 88, follow the link: https://project-tagore.blogspot.com/.../gitanjali-verse...

for a reminder that nature also provides it's own temple experience:

https://poetry-chaikhana.com/.../SecondPoemth/index.html

for Larry Morris' take on a Visionary Heart:

https://hillsidesource.com/dail.../2018/5/25/visionary-heart

September 18, 2022

Today's post is an excerpt from this morning's Zoom Talk, "The Way of Renewal":

The Way of Retrieval. This topic actually came to me when I was sorting through a section of books that I've been trying to downsize for years. I was flipping through Larry Morris' booklet "Glimpses of Grace", a thin stapled book of aphorisms, little ideas or, glimpses that came to him over time...I was flipping through it and my eyes settled on "Clear path, way of retrieval". That Intrigued me. Over the years, I have looked at aspects of the spiritual life from many angles and traditions, so it seems natural to look at the way of retrieval. Definition of retrieve leads us to the prefix re--which means again or describes something that is being repeated, but it also means back, getting it back; you have to go back to an object or a prior state. The trieve part as a verb is "catching, acquiring, accessing or fetch". The noun is treasure or bounty, or a goal, a mission. So the Way of getting something back, or going back to get something, bring something back, or recalling, getting something back from memory.

Then there's this phrase, "clear path". Why is it a clear path? Because retrieval implies the known, a prior state or condition as opposed to the unknown. There are layers to that in human experience and there are values that underlie the pull to retrieve. Retrieval is a response to loss or misplaced or out of reach; it carries the appeal of the familiar, the comfort and stability that familiarity brings. That seems especially significant in times of uncertainty or when traumatic events have disturbed and disrupted our "place", our safety, our belonging. The familiar brings less wear and tear, unless of course it is riddled with conflict. Much of the role of religion in the life of people and cultures is to give us a framework for dealing with loss and the disruption of life, by provide meaning, structure and community. Retrieval can re-establish order. The one photograph or notebook or old letters salvaged from fire or flood is external and yet internal material for re-establishing order and stability; it's like a stake for a tent, or setting a beam to support a structure. Trauma often means those emblems of stability fly off with the shattering experience, but some can be retrieved. So retrieval has roots in the known and our attachments, which weave our earliest sense of stability, control and resiliency. What we treasure as individuals, what is worth retrieval, varies.

In Spiritual retrieval as an individual, we have the idea of various forms of healing, redemption, return, sometimes experienced through our own insight, or pain, or just getting lost in the duties of regular life. We may realize we've misplaced or lost focus on our spiritual life and practice The thread of the spiritual is always available. Our willingness to find it again and again and again is an opening process. The significant thing is the decision to retrieve it. Pick up a practice again. Find the corner of time or space for prayer or meditation. Intention and action. (Susan Nettleton)

follow the link for Robert Bly's poem on retrieval, "People Like Us" https://mypoetryparty.blogspot.com/.../people-like-us-by...

September 11, 2022

Today is Sept. 11, now designated as America's Patriot Day in remembrance of those--almost 3,000-- who died in the 2001, Sept. 11 attack. Patriot Day has become a call to a day of service to the country and/or the larger collective Good, in the spirit of those who gave their lives in service and sacrifice during and after the attack. Today we are are called to both remember and 'give back'. The horror and tragedy of Sept. 11 united America. Now 21 years later, during 2 1/2 years of Pandemic, we have lost over 1 million people to Covid-19, and witnessed great sacrifices from essential workers and medical staff who have served the emergency needs of the country, yet we face increasing division in our country. Today is a day to remember 'giving back', in a way that defines unity. Prayer is one way, a cooperative spirit is another. We don't need to think so much of grand gestures of remembrance and service; it is the intent of gratitude and unity that matter here. That intent may also tug at you to forgive.

Here in Southern California we have come through another kind of test of unity and cooperation in the face of climate change. The extreme heat wave created a power grid emergency, which threatened the state's electricity supply to its limit. On Tuesday, my cellphone set off the alarm for emergency notifications from the state with a warning that if power usage continued to rise, rolling black outs would begin. The alert urged residents to take all possible measures to conserve electricity during the peak hours of 4-9 p.m. The instructions were respectful, clear cut, with links to specific data on the threat, and gently acknowledged that those with health issues might not be able to comply. In our household, we immediately switched off appliances and brainstormed how to work around inconveniences. The alerts were sent to 39 million people. Power usage plunged immediately! Rolling black-outs were avoided. Daily alerts continued through the week and so did immediate public response. As the weather shifted with Hurricane Kay's landfall and the heat receded, critics began their complaints. But in those days of clear information and an appeal to collective effort, there was really no space, no time for division. I'm sure there was grumbling and some wounds to entitlement, but the power of agreement, unity, and respect prevailed.

A mature concept of service includes understanding that the good of the whole, includes our good. Spiritually, this is not really about self sacrifice; the boundary of self doesn't shrink--it expands to Allness. (Susan Nettleton)

For a memorial perspective from Juan Ramon Jimenez (scroll to bottom for English translation), https://heardatdawn.blogspot.com/.../remordimiento-or...

September 4, 2022

This Labor Day weekend brings 2022's migrating extreme heat to southern California--another direct reminder of our collective dependency on the natural environment. As varying areas of the country wrestle with natural disasters and "un-natural" (unfamiliar) weather patterns, the consequences of a changing climate become more real. This is not a swift process, regardless of the urgency of immediate needs and genuine emergencies that erupt in extreme weather. Specific situations demand we act in the moment, but digesting and coming into alignment with global changes--a change of collect consciousness-- takes time. The collective change is an inner movement that impacts each of us, initially unconsciously, even as we attend to our private lives, personal concerns, and familiar routines. Extreme weather disrupts routines, disrupts expectations. At best we are unsettled, more aware of the hardships others face, and begin to prepare for a changing future. The more flexible we are, the more we can adapt and the more we can offer support for others.

But how do we adapt? What do we need to do? Those who have been immersed in ecological study for decades have one form of knowledge that offers road maps for reconstructing society's relationship with nature through regulation, technology and global cooperation. Cooperation may be the most difficult to achieve.

As individuals, living spiritually, consider this teaching from Anthony de Mello's, The Song of the Bird (1984). He retells the classic metaphor of the ocean fish who searched for the thing called the ocean, missing the reality of ocean all around him. De Mello writes of a seeker who complains of looking for God on mountain peaks, in the desert, in monasteries, and among the poor but never finding God. There was nothing the teacher could say, because the all-ness of God was alive in the sunset, the hundreds of gathering birds, the sounds of human traffic and the buzz of a mosquito near his ear.... He concludes with, "Stop searching, little fish. There isn't anything to look FOR. All you have to do is look."

Today is a day to look, hear, smell, touch, or taste life. We will grow into new social action. Spiritually, we don't have to look FOR nature's signs and directions; even as the collective consciousness is reckoning with the new, we are that new, that evolving shift. We are embedded in this living Earth.

Follow the link for Amanda Gorman's inspiring poem Earthrise https://www.sierraclub.org/.../earthrise-poem-amanda-gorman

August 28, 2022

The recent announcement of a White House summit next month to address hate-fueled violence brought to my mind these lines from Chuang Tzu (369 B.C.-286 B.C.):

...When the heart is right "For" and "against" are forgotten. No drives, no compulsions, No needs, no attractions: Then your affairs Are under control. You are a free man.

In an time when "for and against" has become a frighteningly common tactic to undermine a united sociability and basic human to human respect, Chuang Tzu's ancient philosophy gives a key to understanding: "When the heart is right, for and against are forgotten". The heart he speaks of is not about the circulation of blood, but rather the concept of heart in ancient China that includes both our feeling nature and our thoughts, each feeding the other. But how do we set our hearts "right"? Here we enter the spiritual realm. For Chuang Tzu there is a naturalness to this that comes with giving way to the flow of life and the Tao as the underlying principle of life. (See link below for the complete poem) This is an intuitive process, muddied by cultural pressures, schooled intellect, and a sense of separation. Taoism is a holistic response to the shifting sands of life--not piece-meal. Such an intuitive practice has it's own stops and starts and misfires. With practice, we find our way and even "for and against" struggles are simply forgotten.

This reflection reminded me of a case presentation I heard in a Mental Health conference on the impact of Covid. The patient was an older man who wasn't doing what he wanted to do as Covid restrictions faded. He was paralyzed in depression, with various health and aging issues complicating things and slowing him down. He perceived his life as worthless and meaningless, developing the attitude of "a countdown" to final incapacitation and death. The therapist, rather than directly tackling his despair, encouraged him to list the various ideas that had occurred to him that he kept rejecting-- things that he would like to do if only he wasn't old, ailing, and depressed. They were not extravagant fantasies of high adventure, but did involve interacting with others and risks of one level or another. They included visiting family out of state, going to dinner in a nearby town at new restaurant he had read about, taking a stab at writing and submitting an article on his philosophical musings, reading newly released books that pulled at some corner of his mind with a sense of intrigue. In therapy, he considered the activities that he had previously dismissed with "why bother, it's impossible". Now, he saw they did actually hold appeal; part of him wanted to try and part of him felt hopeless. He began to see that his failure to act created further hopelessness. As he actively engaged in planning the steps he would need to take for each item on his list, each step considered by itself was do-able. Bit by bit, he set new activity in motion, gathering momentum through positive experiences. Despair faded away. His heart became right. Impossibility and hopelessness were forgotten.

While the forces of hate are clearly exploited by larger undermining, anti-social agendas, we are more susceptible to them when we are personally frustrated, saddened and hopeless about our lives. Consider this Sunday, your own right heart and new ways to follow it. (Susan Nettleton)

For Chuang Tzu's complete poem (trans. by Thomas Merton) see: https://www.ayearofbeinghere.com/.../thomas-merton-when...

August 21, 2022

A student, filled with emotion and crying, implored, "Why is there so much suffering?"

Suzuki Roshi replied, "No reason." (Zen master, 1904-1971)

This Sunday I am urging you to cultivate positive experiences for yourself and for those around you and in your care. Paradoxically, a friend sent the quote on suffering to me early this morning. Let's begin with the quote, because positive experiences heal the scars of suffering.

The Suzuki quote is not what it seems on the surface. Centuries of deep philosophical thought and prayer have searched for and designed countless explanations for human suffering. These explanations, from karma to the fall of Adam, underlie all religious structures. They may satisfy many hearts, but breakdown when the onslaught of suffering becomes unmanageable and we are overwhelmed with the disconnect between modern life and religious thinking. We assume there is a reason, a cause and an effect; if we knew the cause of suffering then we could heal and prevent. But Zen is not linear logic--it cracks open the container of our assumptions. Suzuki's answer is not necessarily that there are no grounds or understanding to suffering, but rather that "reasoning" is not the way. We cannot arrive at the "answer" through such a question.

The very structure that asks the question has to give way to what is "unknowable".

That does not mean that we are left comfortless or without recourse. One of the bits of understanding being explored through modern psychology and genetic science is the benefit of positive experience. I recently attended an online medical conference that included an overview of pediatric trauma and the power of positive experiences to mitigate the impact of childhood trauma. The data was very impressive. This is increasingly important given the tragedies and turmoil that children have endured in the Pandemic and the surging numbers of mental health issues society faces. Neuroscience points to the role of branching neural pathways and telomeres (tiny protein chains that cap our DNA and prevent their unraveling) in health, healing and resiliency. Positive experiences in both adults and children lengthen telomeres; longer telomeres are strongly associated with healthier lives and longevity. Branching of neurons occurs when we have a variety of positive experiences--when our lives "branch out" beyond constricted repetition of thought, sensory input and relationship with others. This is particularly important in children whose brains are highly active in branching. Adults benefit from branching out as well!

Positive experiences are simply meaningful, rewarding and/or enjoyable moments of time. There is not one description that is defines "positive" for everyone, but rather follows your personal interests and then stretches into new paths of discovery. They include both private moments and shared experiences. They add a sense of gratitude for that time and they are indeed both protective and healing. No matter how far away you (or someone you know) may seem from enjoyment and gratitude, a positive moment begins the path of return. (Susan Nettleton)

Come, come whoever you are

Wanderer, worshiper, lover of leaving

Oh come, come whoever you are

This isn’t a caravan of despair

It doesn’t matter if you’ve broken your vows a thousand times before

Still yet again, come again come

Yet again, come----------Jalaluddin Rumi

August 14, 2022

“It takes a very long time to become young.”

― Pablo Picasso

While summer remains, consider a plunge into your youthful nature. The annual stirring of 'back to school' energy has already begun and despite the heat waves, mornings and evenings still bring children to parks and neighborhood gatherings. This is a time where you can feel the pull of the freshness of youth and the adventure of learning and discovery that still lies within you. It may be faint, lost under the burden of adult responsibility or an aging body or even the trauma of these years of Pandemic, or your own childhood, but it is there. Our capacity to feel young at heart is healing. It opens us spiritually to a renewed sense of wonder and expectancy. It brings us into a closer connection with God. We are more open--less cluttered with assumptions, disappointments, and mistrust. It brings us closer to those who are younger in a way that paradoxically frees us to give our support and life experience to the newer generations.

Years ago in India, I visited my teacher and friend, U.G. Krishnamurti, in a private living room packed with people. That night, U.G. was in a boisterous mood, spinning jokes with artist (and natural comic) Louis Brawley. U.G., who was then 85, had been ill and was still rather frail, but he suddenly astonished the crowd by asking Louis for a piggy-back ride. Louis, a big, strong guy always up for a challenge, quickly managed to get U.G. on his shoulders in an unbelievable scene that sent shock waves through the room. As they danced around the people huddled on the floor, U.G. on Louis' shoulders, the westerners began raising their hands and pumping their fists like at a wrestling match or rock concert, shouting/chanting "U.G.!, U.G.! U.G.!" The Indians were appalled. This shattered all the protocols for hosting an enlightened sage. Some were enraged; some were terrified he would fall. I sat there filled with grateful amazement, because I was witnessing an ancient archetype: the spiritual master, ignoring "the teachings" to play with children in the dance of life.

Today, despite the world's pressing problems, your troubles, or the troubles of the younger ones in your life, this day--everyday--holds joy. The world is not lifted by wringing our hands and fretting. Lift your heart instead. May you stay forever young. (Susan Nettleton)

follow the link to Bob Dylan's lyrics: https://www.bobdylan.com/songs/forever-young/

August 7, 2022

Last Sunday, I wrote of taking a Complaint Break; today I encourage you to consider the vaster field of struggling with people and situations and reach for a larger reality. Complaints are one of the ways our brains have developed to protect our sense of self--we deflect our difficulties and struggles and experience them as the fault of 'other': personalities, groups, the planets, or all sorts of ideas of sources external to ourselves. What then, are the boundaries of self? This is not by any means a simple question--it is a core question of human life in relationship to the Unknown. To me, the most natural way to expand our understanding of self vs. other vs. Other (Transcendent) is to circle around it again and again as life presents us with circumstances that spark conflict and confusion, as well as insight. So in that practice, I offer you some quotes to ponder today as you move about your life. This one is from Witter Brynner's translation of Lao Tzu's "The Way of Life":

"As the soft yield of water cleaves obstinate stone,

So to yield with life solves the insoluble:

To yield, I have learned, is to come back again."

Yielding to life is a central principle of Taoist thought; here the yielding is itself the solution. And that yielding involves return; we return over and over again, actively engaging in life as best we can from a spiritual perspective. In time, often when we least expect it, we gain insight, even expansive revelation. When the prospect of return seems overwhelmingly difficult or we are too deeply wounded, Ramana Maharshi's verse can be soothing. From Sri Muruganar's translation in poetic form ("The Garland of Guru's Sayings"):

" 297: Do not dwell in the desert hot of the non-self, eating arid sand. come into the Heart, the mansion Cool, shady, vast, serene And feast on the bliss of Self."

Now we have the idea that most of our struggles involve the non-self. Indeed spiritual practice is often about letting go of the non-self, defined in varied ways. But Self is not about knowledge and knowing; it is about Being. From Ramana (The Garland of Guru's Sayings):

"576: Knowing a thing is only drawing The boundary that limits it. Defining, measuring, is the mark Of knowledge. The all-transcending Self Cannot be measured and cannot be known."

If it cannot be known (or not known in the usual way we understand that), what are we to do? Consider this advice from Lao Tzu. (Susan Nettleton)

"There is no need to run outside

For better seeing,

Nor to peer from a window. Rather abide

At the center of your being;

For the more you leave it, the less you learn.

Search your heart and see

If he is wise who takes each turn:

The way to do is to be. "

July 31, 2022

This Sunday as part of summer ease, I'm suggesting you take a Complaint Break. I cannot claim the originality of the phrase; it was coined by self-help author Shad Helmsetter in his book Choices (1990). His point, as many others have made, is that frequent complaining is a habit of thought (and feeling) that over time undermines our well-being and shapes a distorted, one-sided view of life. It also undermines relationships, since people tire of hearing complaints, especially if directed toward them!

Complaining may seem only natural, particularly in 2022 when it has become increasingly difficult to find sustained positive news, and conflict can seem the norm. Don't confuse complaining with assertive action or honestly dealing with problems in relationship and work, and/or with your own mistakes. The key words that distinguish positive response from complaint are "problem solving" and "action". A Complaint Break is about letting go of repetitive thoughts that dwell on mistakes, resentments and grievances, bringing us dissatisfaction and emotional pain. Letting go of our complaints, may well include the spiritual work of forgiveness.

Today's focus though, is on giving yourself a break from your own dissatisfaction with yourself, others, life. Paradoxically, you may discover several complaints that have already started taking root in your mind, because when we pull away from any habit of thought, that habit can chase us, pulling us back. So we don't judge our complaining today; we don't fight it or put our mind to confrontation; we are taking a break and letting life, situations, and people be fine today.

Tomorrow we may pick up the challenge of really taking a look at a sore spot of complaint, and set our sights on resolving it with the tools we know. Those tools include sitting with it in prayer and meditation, setting aside time to problem solve, talking it over with another and taking action as well as forgiveness. But today we just shift our thoughts to enjoy a day of peace and awareness of the gifts of life around us. We can do our best to avoid the complaints of others, to be compassionate or stay neutral or silent as best we can. This last day in July 2022, we can all use a complaint break. (Susan Nettleton)

For "No Complaints" by poet Nikki Geovanni: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/90181/no-complaints

From our website:

https://hillsidesource.com/daily.../2018/6/20/complaints

https://hillsidesource.com/.../6/28/completing-the-complaint

July 24, 2022

(from Barry Cornwall, 19 century)

"Oh, the Summer Night

Has a smile of light,

And she sits on a sapphire throne..."

Every summer, the above lines return to my mind, imprinted very early in my life (probably from a high school English class), reminding me of the beauty of night in summer. Until I left for college, summer nights were a time of freedom and play, of long outdoor discussions with friends, of ocean moons and mysterious shooting stars. These words echoed again this week, when I realized how little I have ventured out at night during the Pandemic--mainly, errands in my car. Night does bring relief to the extreme heat of this summer, but postponing errands until sunset because of heat doesn't really touch the level of the power of a summer night. Luckily, the city here is offering movies in the park--and the poem pushed me to grab a camp chair and hike to the show. The evening was a throwback to simpler times, with families lounging on blankets in the grass, a few night picnics, crying babies, children at chase and elders in...camp chairs--a lovely evening, but the greatest part was my walk home with a flashlight and a renewed communion with night.

In his classic analysis of Indian thought, S. Radhakrishnan (Indian Philosophy, Volume I, pg. 138) quotes an ancient Buddhist proverb: "Long to the watcher is the night, To the weary wand'rer along the road, To him who will not see truth's light, Long is the torment of his chain of births." This is a jarring turn away from my night adventure! It is a reminder that many religious teachings, including early Christianity, with it's eagerness for the world's end in Christ's return, have seen life on earth as "torment". A key defining point of individual spirituality is our answer to the question: do we see earthly life as a treasure or a curse?

Night is often associated with the absence of spiritual Light, or a time of spiritual struggle, when we no longer fit in with the worldly pursuits of society, but have yet to come into a state of spiritual Peace and Acceptance. Night is the unconscious, imperceptible workings of God within. Beyond these spiritual metaphors, night is a gift and full of life that is different from day, even though we sleep. Take this week to discover it's wonder and beauty. I trust the power of night. (Susan Nettleton)

"Keep going; never stop; sit tight;

Read something luminous at night.”

Edmund Wilson Jr. (20th century) Night poetry, follow the links: https://poets.org/poem/evening-3

https://www.poetry-chaikhana.com/.../SongofSoul/index.html

The Hillside Source is an online resource project of Hillside Community Church in Albuquerque, New Mexico.