Monthly Archives: January 2020

Release the Need to Suffer

My musings on suffering have continued since the last post and today I am contemplating my need to suffer. It works something like this: If others are suffering or the world is in trouble, I cannot be happy or at peace. I need to keep working on alleviating suffering.

When I consider this more carefully, I can see how crazy this way of thinking is. After all, one of my morning prayers is “May all beings be happy; may all beings be at peace.” There is not a corollary which says, “And in the meantime, suffer together.”

Another piece of this need to suffer is guilt. I feel guilty for having a good life which is relatively free of suffering. I feel guilty when I’m happy. Wow, that’s fascinating… I feel guilty when I’m happy and at peace.

So, what would my life be like if I could let go of the need to suffer, the guilt over being happy and at peace when others are not? I imagine I would be lighter, more serene, more present to others with an open, happy heart. How might that change my responses? I’m guessing I’d feed happiness, peace and hope more than the suffering. I know that what we resist persists, what we fight against, we make stronger. Isn’t working to alleviate suffering, actually getting me stuck in suffering–my own and others?

How might the world be different if we focused on that which opens our hearts, softens our clenching against pain, increases ours and others peace and joy? What if I made a commitment to being happy and peaceful, even if I or others have pain?

I might be more like my friend, Jane. She called me this morning and we talked for a long time. She deals with more pain than I can imagine, every day. Yet, she is determined to live each day with a positive attitude, creating as much joy as she can. She has an infectious laugh and a sense of humor about things most of us would be mortified over. I’ve come to realize it is how she avoids needless suffering over things she cannot control. She might have pain, but she doesn’t suffer. She will allow herself to grieve at times, but only for so long before she’s laughing about something funny her grandson did. Here’s to you Jane! You inspire me.

Release the Fear of Suffering

I woke up this morning with a very clear message, “Release the fear of suffering.” This meditation has followed me through my morning practice and into my day and now onto my blog. My sense is this might turn into a series of musings on this very rich topic…

When I woke with the message, I snuggled in with Scott and shared it with him. He then told me he was restless all night, convinced he was having a recurrence of chronic wrist pain. After work with a skilled PT and healer recently, it had completely stopped with only minor, occasional twinges and some soreness if he used his hands a lot during the day. Finally, he got up and went to get his wrist brace. “As I was walking over to get it, I realized my wrist didn’t hurt. I must have been dreaming, afraid of the pain coming back.”

An example from my own life is my tendency to catastrophize and imagine the worst happening instead of the best. These days I often find myself awash in my fears for Mother Earth and what will happen in the future because of human activities which are seriously damaging the biosphere. I can lose myself in despair and hopelessness if I let my mind continue down this spiral of thought.

Isn’t this how it goes? We cause suffering in the present because we are fearful of suffering in the future. We can become obsessed with trying to control our future to avoid suffering, or become frozen with despair. Oftentimes, that which we fear either doesn’t come to pass or is much less scary than we’d imagined. How much more suffering do we endure as a result of our fear? How much of our life do we waste worrying, strategizing, controlling, withdrawing, isolating ourselves, bracing against pain (which can cause more pain due to chronic tension from muscle guarding) and despairing in hopelessness?

One of my favorite teachers is Ekhart Tolle who wrote The Power of Now. He asks, are you in danger now? Are you in pain now? What is true in this moment? He encourages us to live more in the moment, the only one we truly have. He asks us to trust that if we are fully present right NOW all will be well and we will clearly know what response to make to whatever is in front of us. It is the only space in which we can transform our own lives and the world in which we live.

How might our lives be different if we released our fear of suffering in the future? Waiting for the other shoe to drop? The pain to return? The bottom to fall out? The world to end?

In my experience, we create in our life and our world that which we dwell upon in our thoughts. What if we spent more time focusing on what we would like to create instead of what we fear? What if we embrace hope, peace, lovingkindness? What miracles could happen if we take action from that place?

This Little Light

It’s the first day of 2020 and I want to wish you all a joyful, peaceful, healthy New Year and Decade. I was inspired this morning to share a piece I wrote for the Friend’s publication: What Canst Thou Say.

Friends believe that “there is that of the Light in everyone”. Even when darkness permeates our thoughts, the Light remains glowing at the center of our Being. May this be a year of dusting off our Lights and letting them shine.

This Little Light

In March 2017, I spent a week on retreat in a small cabin on the banks of the Trinity River in California. It was a journey into myself and my past. I carted along all my journals from high school to age 50, determined to go through them, hoping to find peace. I brought my favorite spiritual books to support me, my laptop, a scanner, pre-prepared food to sustain me, coffee for the mornings, wine for the nights, and a yoga mat.

Days unfolded without agenda, at first frenetically, as I relived years of being lost, mostly in other people’s agendas and needs. Yet, somehow the flame of my own fire and truth continued to burn. I struggled with addiction, capitulation, escapism, depression, anxiety and guilt, but I also had an inextinguishable resilience, a faith that love and good was stronger than darkness, a true desire to be a comfort and support to others in their own struggles. As I read my life story, I cried; I laughed; I yelled; I walked along the river; I did yoga; I prayed; I journaled; I read. With time, I became more peaceful and my frenzy slowed.

I began to see the longer lines of my life’s journey. By some grace I can never explain in words, I let go of the guilt I’d always felt about not being perfect and I could see it was all perfect. I knew that every step had brought me to where I was and every one was needed, especially the mis-steps that taught me the most in hindsight.

In my prayers I asked for guidance about where to go next. At 50, it felt like I was crossing a threshold into a new phase of my life and I wanted a map.

On my last morning, I sat meditating and praying on my yoga mat. Suddenly, I dropped down into the very core of my being and everything else fell away. I heard the Voice Within start singing that old song I learned as a child, “This little Light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine.” The Voice Within transmitted this message in a thought form:

You are always looking outside yourself or somewhere else for answers or a mission to complete. STOP. I AM RIGHT HERE INSIDE YOU. You don’t have to go anywhere. Pay attention, I will bring to you all you need and all who need you. BE STILL, KNOW YOU ARE ONE WITH ME.

It was one of those sublime moments I will never forget, filled with grace and peace and deep knowing. As I have returned to my normal life, this knowing fades in and out. But some channel opened in that mystical moment and I can tune into it if I am still and quiet my mind. I’ve discovered I’m the one who leaves mySelf, who forgets that of the Light is within me and everyone else.

I was about to press the Publish button, when these photos came in from our neighbor! Isn’t that a magical omen for the New Year? Let’s keep the faith in rainbows after storms, in Light after Darkness.