Altared States

 This morning I took the time to do some spiritual practices that I used to do daily, but have fallen out of the habit: 9 Breaths of Purification, Tsa Lung, Seed Syllables, Grand Circuit Breathing... It felt SO good! While doing the Grand Circuit Breathing, I reached that place of simple awareness, meaning that I dropped out of my physical being and slipped into a state of awareness that was beyond what I usually experience.

My mind popped forward and wanted to question it since it didn't take me long to get there. But this wasn't about my mind; it was about my energy and awareness, so I invited my mind to move to the background and be quiet... which it was willing to do for short periods of time. Each time it re-arose and wanted to be "scientific" and "inquisitive" and "blahblahblah-ing," I simply and lovingly sent it back to its space of silent observation; and I reassured it that I would take time to ponder the points it was stirring about later.

Now is the "later" I promised my mind, so here are my ponderings: That place I reached can best be described as emptiness and fullness at the same time. That's how it feels to me when I'm there - like I'm empty of everything and full of everything at the same time. There's no longing or desire or attachment to anything; there's just complete resting into what is. And what is feels like all and nothing at once. It's a sense of wholeness that is hard to put to words.

That sense of wholeness is what I had trouble connecting to in the experience I wrote about last week. I reminded myself that what I'm doing during this year to live - or at least part of what I'm doing - is preparing myself to die. What does that mean, exactly?

For me, there are at least three parts to this process:
1. Cleaning up my personal relationships - saying what I need to say to people so that I feel right and clear with them - so that there's no baggage there to leave behind.

2. Getting my life in order so that there's not a big mess for anyone to have to deal with when I die. My will and all my medical wishes are updated and in order. I've selected folks for specific jobs and they have agreed and signed off on the necessary legal papers for it. My partner and closest friends know my wishes and preferences surrounding what to do with my body and how to celebrate my transformation. And I've written a letter to my family and to those carrying out my wishes just to clarify what they are and to reassure everyone that these are indeed my wishes. Just to be certain, I had them notorized.

3. Most importantly, it means getting myself ready for the transformation. This year-long journey is founded in Stephen Levine's book A Year To Live. He does a beautiful job of giving practices to prepare the energy body for its departure out of the physical body, so that when the physical body dies (or stops functioning, completes its cycle...falls away), the energetic one can easily release into whatever is next. A big part of it seems to be getting the mind's  acceptance and cooperation around its powerlessness in this process. My belief is that when we die, the mind no longer functions as we know it in the physical sense, but our transcendent awareness does...or maybe that's my hope!

The state I reached today gives me hope that upon my physical death, I will surely be freed into the state of energy and awareness that so many enlightened beings speak of; that death of the physical will truly be birth of the Spirit; that release of the mind's fear is the pathway to true freedom; and that I will continue to exist yet not from ego, but from a purity of Energy, Awareness, and Love.

A moment of panic

Wow - I'm at an even 100 days left to live...

I had an interesting drive the other day while pondering my approaching death. I looked up into the sky and was touched by the beauty of the clouds, and in particular, an open spot that went through the clouds and seemed to go off into infinity.

Suddenly I became aware that my feelings had shifted from a place of beauty and openness to sadness.  

When I looked more deeply inside, I realized that the sadness was around the idea of no longer being here - of no longer being a part of all the physical beauty here. I was thrown backwards into an old question that used to plague my mind: "What happens after we die? Where will I go? Will I be aware of any of this? Connected to any of it? How sad that I won't be able to feel things the way I do now."

I tried to calm my emotions and my mind by connecting to that sense of Oneness, interconnectedness and bliss that I've touched beyond this physical life, yet I was unable to. I could not find the feeling state in my body; I could not remember it or connect with it in that moment. I tried recalling an experience when I felt it strongly, but I struggled to hold on to it. My mind panicked then, almost shouting at me: "Oh no! You can't remember! You've lost it! And what if it's all just a lie? What then? You'll be nothing! You won't be able to feel anything, do anything, experience any of this! What if it's nothingness after death? And just what IS nothingness??"

I haven't gotten stuck in such a state in years, so the feeling of it was uncomfortable. I held it, knowing that it might surely be possible; that such an ending might be true because I don't know what the truth is. And then I went back to holding open the possibility that it's more than that; that there is something after  death, but I just don't know what.

Then I was able to drop out of the panic I had generated and return to the present moment of enjoying the beautiful clouds and the sky. I thought about all the things I love in my life - the people, the places, the work I do, my home and pets, so many things about my life that I love these days - and I felt deeply for the first time in a while how empty I might feel without access to them in the physical way that I have now. And I wondered if I will miss them when I die as much as I imagine that I will while I'm alive...

Mind Games

This morning I took my dog for a walk. On the way home while stopped at a light, I had an interesting impulse: "Use the visor to block the sun..." I heard my mind say, and my hand went habitually to pull the visor over to the window. But a half-instant later I realized that this mental impulse was contrary to what I felt, which was to turn my face to the sun and enjoy its warmth on my skin. So I returned the visor to its storage place, closed my eyes and turned my face to the sun, smiling as I took in its beautiful light and warmth.

"How many times a day," I thought, "do mental impulses like this one lead me to do things that I don't really want to do? Out of habit? Or unconsciousness? Or from a lack of presence?" This one small incident of "catching my mind in the act" raised a whole new level of awareness for me.

Sometimes I call that kind of mental rambling "a runaway train." I've learned that if I focus on even one of those thoughts - one of those cars on that train - my thoughts go running away along the rest of the train until I am so far down the tracks from the present moment that I miss it completely.

The trick, I've learned, is not to follow even one of those cars beyond its usefulness. It might be helpful for me to attend to the thought, "Did I turn off the hose?" but it's not useful for me to then go running through every car on that train: "If I didn't, the water bill is going to be SO high! I can't believe I didn't turn off the hose. I can't believe that I forgot again! No - maybe I DID turn off the hose... did I? I can't remember. Maybe I should run home and check after I finish this? It's so hot; what a waste of water! We're trying so hard to conserve and then I leave the hose on again! Stupid me! Maybe I could call someone to check it for me...." and on and on and on.

Not only does the mind take off down the train tracks, but it judges me in the process, making me feel doubly bad. It doesn't say "Well, if the hose IS on, the grass and trees are getting a good soak!" No, it creates a disaster. And the humor is that I probably did turn off the hose! And even if I didn't, it's not the end of the world, but that's what the mind wants me to believe. It goes into what some folks call "disaster mind" and makes a huge deal out of a silly little thing like maybe leaving the hose on.

Today I was gently reminded of the games my mind plays so habitually at times that it's easy for me to miss, opening the door for disaster mind and a lack of presence. I caught it this morning; I'm happy for that. I've been practicing feeling my way through the world rather than thinking it so much. Today I got a clear view of the difference between the two, and I'm definitely more interested in the feeling of it...

Counting my way down to "my final hour" is bringing much more of this type of presence into my life. I am grateful for that. I have 109 days left to live now; I really want to be present for all of them...

Fawn Wisdom

I've learned that I really, really love watching the baby fawns grow up this season. They are playful and present, aware and willing, brave and respectful. Who would have thought that such tiny little spotted beings could hold so much wisdom??

They hide in our bamboo forest when it rains, generally not showing themselves until it drops to a very soft drizzle or stops altogether. Their hair gets frizzy after a rain, just like mine!

They grow up pretty fast. I'm watching how they adapt to the noise and activity around them. For the newborns: at first they are curious and open; then, lots of glances to the adults for cues; then, uncertainty and caution that ultimately shifts into a scamper for the safety of their Momma's underbelly or the cover of brush.

 

 As they get a bit older, maybe 2 weeks, they hang with the uncertainty a bit longer and generally wait for the adults to make a move before they follow. Yet when they do follow, it's with complete dedication and vigor. Once they are about a month old, they are right in there with all the adults; no hesitation, just trusting their own signals.

They have nothing to fear in life; they simply indulge in it fully, moment by moment, in whatever manner is called for, unattached to stories about what things might mean. I am learning to embrace myself in a whole new way through these babies.

They touch me with their delicacy and gentleness. They entertain me with their playfulness and innocence. They teach me with their grace and wisdom. They surprise me with their courage and strength. They move me with their spirit and precision.

It's amazing to witness how complete they are at each phase of their development. They have everything they need inside; they just have to access it and then follow it. They are born beautiful, powerful, wise, and whole, reminding me that I was, too; I just have to remember...that I am.