• This and That

    • February 7, 2019 7:20 am

    Dearest Readers,

    The other night I was getting ready for bed with my 7-year old nephew who was visiting for the weekend and we had the most profound conversation while brushing our teeth in front of the mirror.

    “Isn’t it amazing how we can look into a flat piece of glass and see ourselves doing the exact thing that we’re doing right now in perfect clarity?” I asked him.

    “Yeah!” he replied with delight, “And how do our eyes even see everything?” he asked with genuine amazement.

    “I don’t know!” I exclaimed.

    “And who even invented words?” he went on.

    “I don’t even know!” I replied.

    “And how is this flat glass,” he said, motioning to the mirror, “Made from sand? How do you heat sand and get glass?”

    I laughed and shook my head. He ran his electric toothbrush through his grinning mouth. We were both in a state of awe about How Things Come To Be.

    What a joyful state. Taking time to experience this kind of childlike wonder is one of life’s great pleasures. It is truly a spiritual experience.

    As an interspiritual person, I draw my inspiration from a number of traditions to get that kind of joy. One is astrophysics and I am a big fan of Neil deGrasse Tyson, the astrophysicist and television host, and am currently reading his book Astrophysics For People in a Hurry. It is full of hard-science facts like, “Every one of our body’s atoms is traceable to the big bang,” [p.33] and humble admissions such as “astrophysicists have no idea how the cosmos came into existence.”

    [p.32, p17]

    In Tyson’s broad-minded view, “accepting our kinship with all life on earth is a soaring spiritual experience.” (Cosmos, Episode 2, 27:25)

    I also follow Thomas Keating, a Trappist monk and brilliant spiritual teacher whom I had the great pleasure of meeting at St. Benedict’s monastery in Snowmass, Colorado. (As I write this, Fr Thomas is very close to death.) He, too, is a lover of science and feels strongly that religion has to listen to science because science is giving us up-to-date information about who and what God is. By Keating’s definition, God is “Is-ness”.

    Yogic philosophy also informs my spirituality. I teach yoga and bring the spiritual teachings to my classes as well as sharing the physical practice. This weekend I will be leading a workshop called Yoga, Meditation and Self-Realization. Self-realization is waking up to who we really are. “We are stardust brought to life,” writes Tyson [p.33]. Our very essence is Cosmic. Whatever you choose to call that Essence, be it God or the Universe or All, It is the very nature of who we are. I Am That.

    But even though I Am That, I still have to be this human being. I still have to be Celia on a daily basis. I am a person with a busy mind and an imperfect body. Self-realization, or enlightenment, in my view, doesn’t mean sitting on a cloud. It means understanding that even though we may not be our busy minds and imperfect bodies we nevertheless have to live with them both.

    How do we do that? How do we hold both truths that we are human and we are this Cosmic Oneness?

    It takes practice. And willingness. It’s easier to shut down the truth of who we are and just grit the teeth and get this business-of-being-human over with. But look how much we’re suffering. When we bring the reality of our inter-connectedness into our individual realities our perception will change. If we are not separate from one another or from the Creative Force of Life then why would we ever hurt each other? We would only be hurting ourselves.

    “How do our eyes even see everything?” When my nephew asked that question with such sincerity and openness, he was in a state of wonder. He was also self-realizing. There is something else going on here. We are participating in an astounding phenomenon we call Existence. And we are not doing so in isolation from one another. The more we awaken to this truth, the deeper our human healing will be.

    From the fires of love,

    Celia

    Forget It

    • October 10, 2018 2:47 pm

    Dearest Readers,

    Lately, I’ve been making a lot of mistakes.

    Last week, I was supposed to bring the cash box to our Contact Dance Improv Jam and left it at home.

    A few days before that, I was supposed to give a friend a copy of the memoir I’m writing and I didn’t remember to do it.

    The other evening, I had a call scheduled with a friend and even though I’d remembered earlier in the day it completely slipped my mind at the appointed time.

    This week, I didn’t bring the keys to the yoga studio and had to go back home and get them (luckily, one of the students gave me a lift so I could still start the class on time).

    The list goes on: I forgot to feed the parking meter and got a ticket; misplaced my reading glasses; left the bagels I’d just bought behind…

    When I recounted these events to a friend, she asked me how old I was.

    “Are you implying that I might have early-onset Alzheimer’s?”

    “It’s not inconceivable.”

    No, it’s not. But rather than making a beeline to the doctor I’ve chalked up the mental blank spots to the following reasons:

    1. My schedule has changed recently and I’m adjusting to the changes
    2. I provide spiritual care for the elderly and the dying and there is some emotional shut-down happening (as a way of navigating the suffering and the grief)
    3. Smartphone use

    I’m pretty sure these are the main factors contributing to my current state of distraction. Change can be discombobulating. Grief can be overwhelming. Screens are taking over our lives.

    I know I’m not the only one who is deeply distracted these days. There seems to be a whole lot of us walking around a little (or a lot) removed from our Selves. And why wouldn’t we be? Being a human being is challenging at the best of times and numbing out (whether intentionally or subconsciously) is a way to cope.

    The real challenge, however, is to stay engaged with Reality as it unfolds.

    This is easier said than done, especially when things are uncomfortable. I have such a natural ability to dissociate that I don’t often realize I’ve internally separated myself from my life situation until I’ve been shocked back into Presence by the appearance of a $60 parking ticket.

    Turns out this is a good way to work with a distressing event. Be it a minor mishap or a major calamity, the shock can actually serve as a wake-up call:

    Stop.
    Notice.
    Am I in my body?
    Am I even aware that I am breathing?
    What is happening around me?
    Where did I disappear to and how long have I been gone?

    Instead of beating myself up for the ‘mistakes’ I’ve been making I’ve been instead trying to see them as opportunities to wake up.

    BING! You forgot the keys. BING! You lost your glasses. BING! You stood up your friend. BING!

    Where did you go, Celia? Time to come back now.

    The beating-myself-up mechanism still kicks in and sometimes the anger does, too. Pretty normal reactions to making mistakes. Those old friends simply need to be gently reminded that I’m doing my best. That usually settles them down.

    When I view the things that shock me out of my numbness as opportunities to be fully alive then I become truly aligned with What IS. And What Is, is nothing less than the life force energy creating and sustaining all things at every conceivable moment in time and space.

    What is that?

    We don’t know.

    We call It by many names and we make war over it. We ignore It, rail against It, deny It, fear It and try and try and try to explain It. But we cannot explain It.

    We simply do not understand The Inexplicable Mystery of Our Being.

    But just because we don’t understand It doesn’t mean we can’t align ourselves with It. And I am aligned with my Being when I am awake to my Self and to others and to what is unfolding in Reality right now.

    So when you suddenly remember that forgot your keys, take it as the Cosmic BING! Take it as a moment to be amazed by the phenomenon of your existence and by Existence Itself. This moment of realignment Is All There Is and it’s worth waking up for.

    From the Fires of Love,

    Celia

    The Agony of Nothing

    • January 5, 2017 12:12 pm

    This blog post is the last issue of The Healing Journey, the letter I send out to subscribers. You may subscribe here to receive the email.

    This past August my parents and our family suffered the loss of Maggie, our beloved Great Dane, to bone cancer. A few weeks after Maggie died my mother announced that she was getting a new puppy. I was surprised. When Maggie was deteriorating my mum had stated very clearly that she would never get another dog.

    “You said you weren’t going to get another dog,” I reminded her.

    “I know,” she answered, “But I can’t bear the agony of nothing.”

    “The agony of nothing,” I repeated, impressed by her ability to name so aptly our existential human emptiness, “That’s it. Right there. That is what it all comes down to. If we cannot learn to bear the agony of nothing–”

    “We’re doomed!” she interjected.

    That wasn’t exactly what I was going to say. I was going to say that if we cannot learn to bear the agony of nothing then we are destined to get a puppy to make the pain go away. But what happens when the puppy dies and we are once again left with that “deep-down, black, bottom-of-the-well, no-hope, end-of-the-world, what’s-the-use loneliness”? (Thank you, Charlie Brown.)

    Well, we can always find something else to temporarily relieve the dread. There is no shortage in today’s world: shopping, sex, TV, booze, dope, chocolate cake. On and on it goes.

    Eventually those things stop working, too, and the Black Hole returns. What then? How do we bear the Agony of Nothing?

    By spending time with it.

    Yup. When when we stop trying to a-void the Void, when we make friends with the thing we fear most, it becomes transformed. Solitude is no longer lonely and Silence is no longer empty.

    It takes great courage to do this. Exploring the foreign territory of our inner lives can be terrifying. It is the Great Unknown, after all. I myself have uncovered a hundred forms of fear living inside of me. By getting to know these fears intimately and confronting my terror head-on, their power has been massively reduced. And I’m happy to report that I have been liberated by at least eighty-seven of them. Maybe eighty-eight.

    This is how healing actually happens. Interior freedom occurs when we walk through the fear rather than run from it, work with the pain rather than alter it. Entering fully into the Agony of Nothing creates, miraculously, the Possibility of Something. That Something is better than a puppy. Because it is, in fact, Everything.

    Thus begins the astonishing process of living from our Everythingness instead of from the agony of our nothingness. And it is a process. And puppies are most definitely allowed.

    From the fires of love,

    Celia

    Good Lock

    • July 27, 2016 3:34 pm

    Recently, I got locked out of the house. It wasn’t my house so I did not know all of its little intricacies including the one about the front door bolt sometimes slipping down into the catch on its own. So I went outside to do a chore and when I came back the door was bolted shut.

    At first I didn’t believe it. It was impossible. The bolt had to be physically turned from the inside to lock the door. In my disbelief I began to pull on the door shaking and rattling it to force it to open. It was definitely locked. Then I growled and noticed the panic rising. I had a full day that included a list of other chores before making my way to the airport to catch a plane.

    Going around to the back of the house to see if I’d left the back door open was futile because I knew I’d locked it five minutes earlier when I’d let the cat out. I did it anyway. Then I checked all the windows and found one that could be opened if I forced it. I stopped trying when my arm began to bleed.

    As I returned to the front of the house to escape the burning late-morning Florida sun I said a prayer. Well, barked one, actually. “Okay, what am I supposed to do about this?” Maybe I even said, “What the hell am I supposed to do about this?” I was highly aware of my resistance and lack of calm.

    With that awareness I took a seat on the shady front porch and started to listen for the answer. I was locked out. What could I do? Not much. Did the rage help? Not a bit.

    A lizard about the size of my hand sashayed out of the shrubbery and stopped a couple of feet away, watching me out of the corner of its eye, its tiny sides expanding and contracting rapidly with breath. That lizard did not have a big agenda. It moved again, stopped, moved again. Each time it stopped I stayed with it, with the power of its total presence, its utter lack of agenda. The lizard eventually moved on and I thanked it because it had brought me into the here and now.

    Reflecting on my anger I saw that it had come from the fact that I was not going to be able to fulfill my agenda. My agenda had not only been meticulously planned (go inside, finish chores, accomplish tasks, eat some food, take a spiritual direction call, get to the airport and fly away), I was counting on the fact that it was all going to take place. I was upset because the future I’d planned was not going to happen. But that future was not my actual life. My actual life, my unfolding life in reality, was sitting on the porch, locked out of the house in +35C heat, learning life-lessons from lizards. There was nothing else. All the other stuff was just a bunch of thoughts that I had allowed to become expectations.

    To commit to the spiritual journey means that when any challenge comes our way we stay open to the transforming opportunity being presented. I closed my eyes, went within and listened.

    Let go. Wait. Trust.

    Letting go of all my plans and seeing that the world would not come to an end by doing so, I went and picked some starfruit from a tree in the yard, thankful for the moisture it provided my thirsty mouth. With that action came an intuitive thought: Maybe I could knock on the neighbours doors? Fear rose up. I sat with it and then followed the prompt. Within minutes, two generous men were walking around the house with me looking for a spare key or a way to get in. Then one of them got a screwdriver and jimmied a window open. Hallelujah! I climbed into the cool, air-conditioned house, relieved and dripping with sweat.

    As the rest of the day unfolded and the agenda got accomplished I kept meditating on a deeper question that came out of the experience: Where am I “locked out”? Or what am I “locking out” of my life?

    Exactly one week later, while leading a retreat on the ashram in the Bahamas, I went to leave the little beach-side room where I slept to go to a yoga class. But when I turned the door handle and pulled, the door remained shut. I tried again. Nope. I was locked in. You know what I did? I smiled.

    After trying a couple of tricks to jimmy the latch I pulled the screen off the window, lifted myself up over the sill, did a modified handstand to climb out, and went to reception to tell maintenance. Later, after the local man who repaired it explained that the salt-air had corroded the latch (happens all the time), I had the opportunity to do some more spiritual inquiry. Two episodes with locks in one week? Kinda hard to ignore.

    Okay, so where was I “locked in”? Or what am I currently “locked into”?

    There was temptation to go into shame. I’m doing something wrong. I’m being punished. This attitude will only keep me from looking deeper. A gentler approach prevailed: How did I respond to what unfolded?

    My reaction to being locked out was rage, which came from being overly attached to my agenda. Fair enough, I had a flight to catch. But to assume I’m going to get to complete my plans at any given time is to deny the unpredictability of life. When I am attached to an agenda I am locked out of being present to life’s unfolding and I am leaping ahead of reality.

    My reaction to being locked in was to smile. Made easier by some free time, certainly, but also by a willingness to accept what comes with an open mind and an open heart. When I am detached from my agenda I am locked in to reality. Life is unfolding before me and I am following with curiosity, presence and interior freedom.

    Inspiring Message of the Day: May we all open ourselves to following the unfoldment of our lives rather than trying to leap ahead.

    Spiritual Bushwhack

    • July 27, 2016 3:27 pm

    During a recent Centering Prayer retreat at St. Benedict’s Monastery in Snowmass, Colorado, I ventured forth on an afternoon hike, scrambling up a steep cliff to check out some rock formations that had enticed me from the ground below.

    After exploring the ancient outcrop where birds nested and faces appeared in ghostly patterns, I made my way down the steep incline in the mid-afternoon heat. As I got closer to the bottom I found myself in the middle of a dense thicket of scrubby trees and realized I had no choice but to make my way through it to get out. This is when it hit me: the Spiritual Journey is a bushwhack.

    Maybe you’ve been there yourself? It goes something like this:

    You are in the thick of it and you can’t see the path and the branches are in your way and you’re getting scraped and scratched and you just want it to be over.

    But it’s not over and you’ve got a long way to go before you get to the clearing. So the only thing you can do is be where you are as you move each branch out of your way, carefully avoiding the thorny and prickly ones, crouching down low to avoid poking your eyes out, pulling up your pelvic muscles to support your legs as you take each tortuous step, one at a time.

    There is no rushing this.

    And you’re parched because you didn’t bring water (you didn’t want to carry it) and you’re bleeding a little from the thorns and it’s hot and you wonder if you’re going to die. But you don’t die you take another breath and move the next branch and then… you’re out.

    You’re out and you’re grateful. So you turn back to look at where you’ve come from and give thanks.

    Now you’re safe and you walk on the clear path for a while and you meet a friend who was smart and stayed in the lowland and you smile at each other with recognition but you don’t stop. And then you come to the crick and you wonder if you have the energy to jump it and you do. And you’re still not home so you keep coming back to each step because you are not really there until you get there.

    And when you do get there you rest because tomorrow… you will go again.

    Inspiring Message of the Day: May we all support each other no matter where we are on the path.