A note from Erin:
I hope you’re finding lots of sustaining beauty moments during these epically strange and stressful times.
The world is agonizing and heartbreaking in so many ways these days. It’s also glorious and offering up its myriad gifts at the same time. In our yard, it’s that time of year when the fragrant orchid-like flowers from our old Catalpa tree are raining down as botanical blessings from above. They fall on the pink roses (no filter on that photo above!), the cheery California poppies, and the abundant herbs and food plants blessing our front yard.
The other day I was talking to a friend while swooning over my garden, and I found myself saying, “How could you be sad during this gorgeous season?” And then my inner bullshit detector started twitching. I love it when it does that, even and especially when it catches my own bullshit. I corrected myself. “No, that’s not the question. The question is how could you ONLY be sad during this gorgeous time of year?”
The truth is there’s room for the multitudes we all carry, even those seemingly in conflict. “Too blessed to be stressed,” says one grateful inner voice. Then stress comes in. “Nope. I’m here too.” Making space for the layered truth of what is is an essential facet of compassion. Ignoring any part of the spectrum keeps us feeling fragmented and incomplete.
Earlier this week during meditation practice I brought in a theme based on the title of one of Pema Chodron’s many good books. “Comfortable with Uncertainty.” An important question for us during these wild times: How do we grow, if not comfortable, at least less uncomfortable and agonized by uncertainty? It takes practice. We feel this breath and soften the body to its presence. We notice the sky-like spaciousness of awareness that is ever present, and keep one foot in touch with that open freshness of being. Likely, we lose it, and then we begin again.
Like riding a bike, the practice accumulates and soon we find we can balance. It can become more natural than not to be present to the breath, to notice and soften our inner rigidities and our tight grip on the present moment, and to be spacious like the sky. Even now. Even with all the terrible news. These simple skills allow us to show up for whatever else is happening without spinning out into reactivity – and who needs more of that noise?
Years ago Chogyam Trungpa gave a memorable teaching about finding comfort in uncertainty. “The bad news, ladies and gentlemen, is that you’re falling through space and you have no parachute.”
Yikes.
“The good news is there is no ground.”
Haha.
Is it possible to relax in such a situation, so open and ever changing? Could we show up, to quote Trungpa again, in such a way that we are more than just “a bundle of tight muscles defending our existence”?
I return again and again to this generous teaching from Zen teacher, Scott Morrison. “The entire path of awakening and liberation requires we ask ourselves this one fundamental question: Do I wish to live this moment with as much attention, care, and affection as possible or am I going to do something else? There’s no point in judging the something else as good or bad, it’s just good to know who’s making the decision.”
I sincerely care about awakening and liberation. I aspire to live my moments, more often than not, with as much presence, warm-heartedness, good humor, and reverence as possible. It’s helpful to remember that I always have that choice, even when I enact it imperfectly, which is always the case.
At the end of our sit, I brought another layer to the practice. Not only returning to presence in the body, not only being spacious in that groundless way, but noticing that as long as we are embodied, we have the opportunity to feel the actual ground. This Great Mother Underfoot. There’s an “I’m right here-ness” that comes when you feel your butt or your feet supported unconditionally by the Earth below. It makes all the difference in growing an embodied sense of safety and presence. We are held. We could notice and savor that fact. Again and again and again.
Then I invited folks, while noticing the no-ground of uncertainty and the bottomless openness of the present moment, along with feeling the ground holding us right here on this spot, to welcome whatever multitudes are present in the inner life with great care. Fear of the world? Oh hello. I will take good care of you. Outrage at the violence and destruction and sheer idiocy of “leaders?” Oh hello, outrage, there’s room for you here too. I will take good care of you. Wow, joy, you’re here too. Welcome. I have space for you. Oh hello, guilt about feeling happy. I will take care of you too. There’s room on this big lap of compassion. You are all welcome here. You can stay as long as you need to.
Even in the midst of uncertainty, even in the midst of times that can feel like we, or the culture, or the world, are falling through space without a parachute, we can come home to feeling the Earth holding us. We can hold our human experience in our own two hands and kiss it on the forehead with benevolence. We might say to our own worried heart, and also to the world: “I care about what’s happening for you.” No fixing, just care. The joy, the stress, the grief, the anger, the confusion, the exhaustion, the irritation, the gallows humor. All are worthy of compassion and care. All worthy of our welcome.
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