I received the following forwarded email from a friend and find it helpful as I contemplate the coming US presidential election:

Let’s consciously co-create a world filled with values such as peace, kindness, collaboration, and prosperity and see us moving forward with optimism.

1) On the next two Sundays, 10/14 and 10/21, at 11:00 a.m. US EDT, wherever you are, I invite you to synchronize energies with me for at least 5 minutes.  The idea is to be charged by the energy of unconditional love. To do so, connect with your feelings towards your loved ones and then radiate to your home, expand to your city… country…the world, all with an open and hopeful heart.  Then, feel the energies within of love, kindness, collaboration, abundance and peace. Visualize (“imagine”) expanding to your community, the country and beyond until the world radiates the same energy.

2) In addition, I recommend sharing a highly conscious attitude before and during the elections. I will read the prayer below every morning until November 6th. I invite you to join me.

Much love & light,

Oly

Highly Conscious Elections

I breathe in Peace and Optimism.
I awaken the Presence of Peace and Hope within me now.
I call forth the highest outcome for the U.S. Presidential Election in 2012.
I call forth the election of the President of the United States of America to serve the highest evolution of the U.S. and our world.
I am grateful that Truth, Integrity, and Peace are now present and manifesting through the U.S. Presidential Election.
I call forth the reality of Peace, Collaboration, Consciousness, Sustainable Solutions, and the New Earth resonance.
I intend that the President and the Vice President who will serve and create the Highest Good for all peoples of the U.S., all peoples of the world and all of life on our precious planet are now elected — peacefully and easily.
I recognize that I play a role in manifesting Peace and Benevolence each day, each moment.
I dedicate this moment to consciously creating the election of a President and Vice President who support life and serve the highest good of all people.
I am grateful that Truth prevails now, that Peace prevails now.
I am grateful that the highest outcome for the U.S. and the world in this Presidental Election is now manifest.
I create Peace now.
And so it is.

Prayer, written by Oly Schalow based on Nikita Gearing’s 2008 prayer

Notice that the prayer does not ask for a specific result from the election, but instead offers a prayer for wisdom for whoever is elected. It helps remind us that there is a different approach beyond the divisiveness and ill will that election campaigns usually inspire. All spiritual traditions recognize the power of prayer. Our world and our leaders need all the good will we can send.

Ancients thought a self constrained by ego
to be dwelling in ignorance,
shackled to an identity based on distinction,
rather than the manifold connections to the Large.
Enlightenment was prescribed
not as destruction of the ego
– forsaking all for the beggar’s bowl
but as making it transparent.

We are the thinking monkeys, after all,
and the ego as a tool of survival
has served evolution well
just be vigilant for the illusion of separation . . .”

ponderously I muddle – dodging traffic

as someone gestures rudely when I cut him off.

“Ah, bugger on,” I mutter.

Count to ten, Momma said, way back when,
and I think:

Momma knew.

Mudita is about not begrudging or envying the good fortune of others. It is considered the most difficult of the heavenly abodes to practice and the key is to examine our mind states when we do so. Is envy present? Judgment, as in questioning whether the person deserves their good fortune? We are truly practicing mudita when there is no hint of grasping after someone else’s accomplishments. We truly practice mudita when we are able to experience happiness or joy for someone else at the same time  we may be experiencing sadness or tragedy in our own life.

So what about extending wishes for a difficult person’s continued happiness, joy and success? It is best to practice mudita with people that we know who have real achievements that we are aware of, rather than abstract examples. It is not wisdom to wish success to those whose accomplishments are hurtful or sadistic; however, we can practice compassion (karuna) towards them instead. Some part of a cruel or unwise person craves happiness just as we do. Blinded by their own suffering and ignorance, they commit unspeakable acts against others–we do not condone or approve of their actions but we can connect in a compassionate way with their suffering.

If you think that a non-reactive state of mind is in touch with the true nature of things as they are–which is how mindfulness is often portrayed–you’re basically making equanimity your ultimate meditative tool. But as the Buddha said (MN 101), equanimity can handle only some of the causes of suffering. There are many other causes that require the effort of analysis and thought–what he termed “the exertion of fabrication.” If you limit yourself to equanimity, there will be many causes of suffering that will simply hide out, without getting uprooted. And, in fact, equanimity can be an object of clinging. If you don’t see that, you shut the door to total release.

This made an impression on me because I have a tendency towards equanimity when it may not be appropriate. My mother taught me that there is great strength in bearing the conditions of one’s life, an “it is as it is” attitude that is genuinely helpful in curbing reactivity and fostering an ability to be present for one’s experience. But like all mental states, it must be balanced in its application.

When my mother changed  residences some years ago, my brother (who was helping her move) saw what looked like some glassware headed for the trash. He salvaged a piece and took it home. Some years later, Mother was visiting him and asked, “Where did you get my grandmother’s antique butter dish?”  Although she didn’t say so at the time, she has often expressed a wish to me and my husband that she had it back and implied that she resented my brother’s taking it. Recently, she and my brother came to dinner at my house and my husband mentioned the butter dish to my brother. My brother replied, “I didn’t know she wanted it–of course, I’ll bring it with me.”

My mother and the butter dish were re-united and she was thrilled. The reunion would have happened sooner if she could have brought herself to tell my brother what she was really feeling and thinking.

We must beware complacency masquerading as equanimity . Vigilance and unwavering examination of mind states is necessary so that we can see what is actually present and take appropriate action.

For any concept to truly influence our worldview and how we live, it must go beyond the idea stage and be integrated into our very being. So it is with the Remembrances. We begin by trying to be mindful of them throughout our day, trying on the concepts and (per the Buddha’s instructions), testing them in the laboratory of our own experience. Gradually we see evidence of all five. We also begin to increase our understanding of the subtler aspects, including our aversion and fear.

It can take many years of practice to overcome aversion and fear, particularly to the big D (Death happens to others, not to me). Once I was practicing on retreat with a woman who I’d judge to be in her 70s at the time. She was utterly terrified of dying and her fear and aversion were palpable. In the Buddha’s time, his practice was to send his monks to the charnal grounds to spend time contemplating the dead in various stages of decomposition. In his wisdom, the Buddha understood that feeding aversion only makes it grow from a tiny cloud to a towering thunderhead. He understood well that the best way to overcome fear and aversion is to turn and face it full on. The allegory of Mara’s legions on the night of his awakening speaks to sitting still in the face of horrible and scary sights and sounds and simply being with them–without being overwhelmed by them.

In our culture, it is difficult to find examples of death to contemplate. We know (at least intellectually) that people, pets, and all we cherish changes form and eventually dies or disappears. We don’t like to think about the fact that no matter what we do to keep our bodies young, fit and beautiful, sooner or later, they age and die. We try to preserve bodies through embalming and other methods for….what?….future use? In Tibet, it was considered a final act of compassion to allow ones body to be consumed by other beings…. Interestingly, in Latin cultures among others, the idea of death as a natural continuum of life is more evident and prevalent in their cultural practices than in ours (for an example, see this about eating sugar skulls and the Día de los Muertos – Day of the Dead).

Ultimately, if we truly want to grow in our purification practice, we have to come to terms with the recollection, “I am of the nature to die. Death is unavoidable.” To do that, we have to go beyond concept to an appreciation of aging and death as part of the natural order of things. Instead of avoidance and fear, we welcome them because they make us viscerally understand how precious a birth is and that we have only a limited amount of time to be here in this form.

One of my teachers talks all the time about “practicing as though your hair were on fire.” I didn’t understand this at first and I am still working with this concept in practice. What it suggests is the urgency to make the best use of our time here, particularly in working with subtle defilements like aversions that are deeply buried–it takes time for them to reveal themselves so they can be known. As they rise to awareness and we meet them, with practice, over time, they dissipate like smoke. What eventually replaces the aversion and the anxiety is a sense of ease, a relaxation, a lightness that comes every time we evolve beyond fear to deep acceptance.

Acceptance is not just puny agreement; it means a profound shift in ones state of being. The bedrock of who you think you are shakes and shifts and the tectonic plates move. You learn, for real, that there is nothing solid to attach to–even your “Self.” And there is no solid “I” that says “I’m ok with that.” Although you are…..

First, the Buddha specifies four postures for meditation: sitting, standing, walking or lying down. We largely ignore two of these in the West. Second, new practitioners wrongly interpret”doing” meditation properly by emphasizing the trappings, the form, rather than the substance of the Buddha’s teaching. I was recently reading some teachings from Ajahn Maha Boowa, one of the great Thai forest masters who passed away in January 2011. He said that it is not the posture you take that is important, but rather the “quality of your attention.”

Formal practice, in any of the four postures, teaches us to develop not just mindfulness, but mindfulness with discernment. It provides the vehicle for us to learn how to be mindful throughout our day with whatever phenomena are arising. It helps us to meet, with discernment, the circumstances of our lives.

Form is important, in that it provides the container for practice. Too often, though, we use our inability to establish “perfect” conditions for practice as an excuse not to practice. “It’s too noisy….too quiet….too many distractions….my back hurts….I’m too ill…..” How many of us have made these excuses without realizing that we can bring attention to whatever is happening (illness, boredom, noise, quiet, aching muscles, etc.)?

I’ve found it helpful to remind myself: “My life IS my practice. Whatever is happening right NOW is my practice. What quality of attention can I bring to this moment?”

i am spring delirious
besotted with the scent of hyacinth outside my front door
enamored of flowering trees
amazed at new leaves not visible yesterday
i am in love with spring

what joy to have this early warm spell
to be in the garden
to celebrate a new round of life!

Joy, happiness, delight, enjoyment — these are a natural part of the human condition and the Buddha made it clear that we are not to ignore or repudiate them. We can understand that these mental formations are impermanent and that we can derive no lasting satisfaction from them–still taking pleasure in them while they are present.

Today, for example, is overcast, windy and chilly–more typical of March in Illinois than the 80 and 70 degree weather we’ve had recently. I can attach to yesterday’s warm weather or I can choose to enjoy different activities and pursuits today.

Working with mindfulness, we see the subtle attachments the mind generates and employ skillful means to uproot them. Is the mind attached to yesterday’s pleasant experience? Is it attached to pushing away unpleasant experience? If so, this is a suffering state caused by craving experience to be different than it is.

Transcendent joy is a fruit of mindfulness practice. Seeing the inherent nature of things, we can feel happiness even on a cloudy day. We know that the sun is shining, even when we do not see it.

I am of the nature to grow old. Aging is inevitable.
I am of the nature to become ill. Illness is unavoidable.
I am of the nature to die. Death cannot be avoided.
Everything I love will change and pass away.
My actions are the only thing I own. I inherit thir results.

The first three remind us of the signs young Siddhartha saw that caused him to question human existence and suffering. The fourth reflection reminds us of impermanence. A variation of the fourth reflection can remind us of the Eight Worldly Conditions (see post #61): I will lose that which I love and gain that which I do not want. The last one asks us to reflect on karma, the law of cause and effect, and to know that how we behave today has future consequences.

Some of my practitioner friends make this teaching, or even just one of the five, their daily meditation practice. Any one of these teachings, fully penetrated with wisdom, can lead to awakening. Over the years, I have found it helpful to memorize these five recollections or have a printed placard in my meditation space. Before each sit, I can read or recite the remembrances. Then, without actually thinking about them, I just sit with the spirit of the recollections in the silence.

Another profound way of working with them is upon awakening, to recite the remembrances as a way of putting them out front of your day. If all five seem to be too much to work with, then take one recollection a week and rotate through them. If, for example, I work with the first one, “Aging is inevitable,” I can look around at any living thing including myself and see its signs. The task in practice is to observe deeply where there is clinging (to youth and vitality?) or aversion (to wrinkles and loss of strength?). My task is only to understand what is happening, where there is reactivity, without trying to make it be different than it is.

Acceptance is a fruit of practice, not its goal.

As I understand it, in the context of Buddhist practice, consciousness is one of the five aggregates that collectively make up what we experience as the self (the other four are body, feeling, perceptions, and mental formations). Identification with the interaction of the aggregates produces the illusion of a separate self. This separate self appears to be a totality, a uniform self, when in fact it can be broken down into its separate parts (the aggregates). One of the tasks of sitting in silence is observing the interplay of the aggregates because it is then easier to dissolve clinging to the notion of a uniform totality of being.

Consciousness is also the link in the chain of dependent co-arising that conditions arising body and mind. Consciousness, meaning what we are pre-wired to be aware of, is itself conditioned by volitions or predispositions from deep within the psyche. We cannot see these predispositions but we can see their effects, as they give birth to personality and how we react to the world around us. For example, I have a friend who spent much of his early life in conflict with others. He saw insult everywhere and was constantly at odds with shopkeepers, friends, and casual acquaintances. I once observed to him, as he was describing yet another incidence of being wronged, that things like that never happened to me. It would be more accurate to have said that I’m not wired to notice or interpret similar interactions as insults.

Finally, consciousness in Buddhism is not one but many and is specific to the six senses. Therefore, there is no overarching personal consciousness, but there is eye-consciousness (when the eye makes contact with a visual object), ear-consciousness (when the ear makes contact with an auditory object) and so on. If this is so, the consciousness in its purest, primary form is simply to know or reflect what the sensory contact has been. This recognition is the reflection in the pond or the mirror. It is what we strive to do in practice: recognize seeing as merely seeing, hearing as merely hearing, touching as touching, etc. (aka as “bare attention”).

Anything beyond direct experience of a sense object is added, polluting the pond, as Andrew Olendzki describes it in his article, “Mind Like a Mirror.“

Our different personalities and perspectives influence the memories we choose to recall in conversation from time to time. I tend to dwell on the more positive, feel good, memories while he will bring up the more painful experiences. For him, this may be a de-sensitization technique, you know, like scratching an itch to the point of bleeding or squeezing an already painful area in hope that the new pain distracts you from the old one.

The last discussion we had, I told him I don’t like to spend much time in the past because then I have to “let it go all over again.” And actually, that is true whether the memories are pleasant or unpleasant. Pleasant memories can turn unpleasant or sad quickly if the mind moves into grasping mode, as in: “That was a pleasant happy experience but now I’m sad that it is over.” Then it, too, must be relinquished again.

On top of this, consider that we never remember experience as it actually was. That is, there is a richness to experience, a multi-dimensional nature, that we generally lose over time. What we remember, for good or ill, is our “story” of what happened, but not actually what happened.

Sometimes it is good to reflect on the nature of memory so that we understand its provisional nature and reduce clinging.