Rooted in What is Real

Today's fresh fallen snow whitened and brightened the landscape. Nevertheless, library patrons commented that they felt ready for the snow to be gone. Typically, March is the month when we receive our greatest accumulation of snow. After the next few weeks it's likely that we'll move from snow and ice season into the stickiness and stuckiness of mud.

This morning's TCC practice was a needed respite from overwhelming feelings of tiredness. For one-half hour all was well with the world. Or, at the very least, everything slowed down.

A student brought Stephen Mitchell's The Second Book of the Tao to class last week. I began reading through it today and found it wonderfully simple and enlightening. This book, published in 2009, adapts the teachings of Lao-tzu's disciple Chuang-tzu and Confucius' grandson Tzu-ssu. What emerges is a fresh, humorous, insightful, and easily accessible look at the Tao.

Here's an example, Verse 18 (p. 36):

Step beyond yourself.
Step beyond the whole world.
Step beyond all existence.
When you penetrate that far,
you will shine with the original brightness.
You will realize that you are alone
in the vast universe
and that all things are nothing but you.
You will slough off past and present
and will enter the place
where there is neither being nor non-being.

The Master remains peaceful
in the midst of continual change.
There is nothing that can disturb her,
nothing that she finds unacceptable.
She welcomes all beings,
watches as they come and go,
and stays rooted in what is real.

That, my friends, is what happens when we keep returning to our T'ai Chi Chih practice. We learn, moment by moment, how to stay rooted in what is real....

Silence for 'Sensitives'

Snow falls through the darkness. It's a quiet day after last night's party that rebounded with loud conversations. I'm grateful for the silence. A friend who's also a "highly sensitive person" told me on the phone today that noise is one of the hardest things for highly sensitives to handle. I'm living proof. I started today feeling weighed down with exhaustion. After a day of quiet I'm gradually beginning to regenerate and regain some vitality.

My evening T'ai Chi Chih practice was enormously quiet. Frances, Namaste, and Chiripa were all outside doing chores. With no distractions near at hand I drifted through my practice in peaceful tranquility. Now, though, I feel a bone deep weariness beckoning me to bed.

It's a good time to cease and desist with my writing since my brain seems to be stuck in neutral. Ahhh. The day is done....

Mid-Night T'ai Chi Chih Practice

Saturday, March 5, 2011 (early Sunday morn):

Well, it is 2:15 on Sunday morning but as far as I'm concerned it's still Saturday night. After a whirlwind day preparing for our party--and a highly successful party it was--I'm still riding the tide of energy and activity that carried me through this day.

I didn't get to my T'ai Chi Chih practice until an hour ago, long after my normal bedtime. And, though I was tempted to head for bed, I told myself that I could do at least 10 minutes of practice. Thirty minutes later I'd run through my complete form.

It felt tremendously refreshing to spend time really relaxing after an overly full day of more cleaning and more cooking (and more socializing than I've done in months). I'm thankful that I convinced Monkey Mind to postpone bedtime for an hour or two. (I imagine that the geese are also grateful I stayed awake because they hadn't been fed, watered, or locked into their barn due to our "distracting" guests.)

Morning is well on its way. It's time to sleep so that I may rise and resume today with another T'ai Chi Chih practice!

Laundering the Body/Mind

Today we're in pre-party mode. All day today and tomorrow Frances and I will clean, cook, bake, and otherwise prepare to host a party celebrating a major decision rendered by our County Board of Adjustment. Last week the Board rescinded a conditional use permit that had been awarded to developers seeking to build an airstrip and fly-in community in our town in spite of constant continuous protests against such a project.

It's time to acknowledge and thank each other for the unending efforts made by townspeople to attend board meetings, write letters to the editor, fundraise, research and track down various pieces of information necessary to pursue this matter, et cetera ad nauseam. This party will be a stretch for Frances and me since we're both introverts and tend to prefer quiet nature to loud people. Still, we're excited to serve as hostesses for this positive, congratulatory event.

Today's T'ai Chi Chih practice occurred in the basement. I positioned myself near the washer (for a reason too complicated to explain here) in order to observe my laundry while I practiced. I know, I know. I was multitasking. Still, the clock is ticking and our list of chores continues to stretch into infinity.

This is what interested me about practice: I began to move in front of the washer but quickly left the area. It was too noisy and distracting and the sound of the agitator set too quick a pace. I resettled in a far corner of the basement. When I heard the load spinning and draining, I returned to the front of the washer. By this time I was partway into my practice; my mind and body had slowed and calmed. And ... I didn't even notice the sound of the agitator.

To me, that's proof positive of the relaxing and healthful benefits of a T'ai Chi Chih practice. It prepares you for anything, including the rambunctious, distracting noise of a washer in mid-cycle.

Suffering ~ Happiness

Huh. I woke at 4:44 a.m. this morning. As I accessed the dashboard for this blog, I discovered that today's T'ai Chi Chih post is number 444. Synchronicity? Destiny? A message from the world beyond?

I write these questions with a smile on my face. Nevertheless, I notice things like this ... numbers that surface time after time (I can't count how often I've seen 11:11 on my kitchen, car, or office digital clock when I check the time).

This is an interesting day. On one front, my health improved significantly (quite likely) as a result of two hours of T'ai Chi Chih classes and practices last night. On the other hand, I'm aware that on the night I teach I don't sleep the full night through. I wake early and, even when I'm tired, I can't go back to sleep. One beginning student told me last night that following our first class session several weeks ago she was up until 1:00 a.m. So ... the energy is highly stimulating for some of us.

This morning's TCC class engaged in a wonderful group discussion about Buddha's Brain. This book is encouraging the lot of us to think about the ways we each get in our own way when it comes to letting go of suffering and, instead, choosing happiness. Luckily, for me, during and after most TCC practices I do feel happier. And, on the occasions when I don't feel an improvement in my mood, I do, at the very least, feel more balance and ease.

These feelings, though often short-lived, are incredibly necessary and important as my state (WI) as well as our society and the world go through major conflict and--hopefully--transformation. Along with all the protestors--including my partner, Frances--who've visited Madison these past two weeks I'm well aware that we live in tumultuous times.

It's my hope and wish that those of us who engage in meditative practices will infuse our personal worlds and the world at large with understanding and compassion. That's--at the very least--a start in the right direction.

Harmony ... and Peace

Tonight's T'ai Chi Chih classes brimmed with energy and inspiration! All eight registered students attended the first class. My challenge was to move the group from animated conversations into quiet practice. I did this the traditional T'ai Chi Chih way that I've observed in teachers' gatherings and trainings. When the conversation won't stop as requested, simply begin to move.

It was fascinating to notice how quickly competing conversations ceased and quiet permeated the room. Tonight's practice was especially wonderful! Movements clicked, energy flowed, muscles relaxed, and Monkey Minds focused on one shared yet unspoken goal: to be in the present moment. To move together with One Mind is a powerful and empowering experience. Yes! That's how I experienced what happened.

The beginning class had a similar outcome though in a much different way. My small group of beginners shrunk to one student. As a result, tonight's class was a private session. Since I seldom have the opportunity to teach a private session I thoroughly enjoyed myself. It felt like a gift for me to focus on one person's movements and to make suggestions that fit that single person's body and movement patterns. Again, the two of us moved in a concentrated and connected way that felt wonderfully nourishing.

Two ends of the spectrum: a full class of eight and an empty class of one. It really doesn't matter how many people move together with the Chi. All that truly matters is that we move. Together. As one. With harmony ... and peace.

Nowhere to be

Is meditation boring? That question was asked by today's InnerNet Weekly email. In response, American guru and spiritual teacher, Andrew Cohen, had this response:

In order for the experience of meditation to be endlessly fascinating and infinitely compelling, you have to be interested in 'nothing.' Day in and day out, we are constantly pre-occupied with one thing or another, always busy with 'something.' But if you want to experience profound meditation, and a depth that liberates, the objective of your attention must be nothing--absolutely nothing whatsoever.

Cohen suggests that the meditator imagine sitting in a dark movie theatre waiting for a film to start. Instead of waiting, writes Cohen, imagine that you become passionately interested in the darkness and nothingness. There is, he continues, 'something' in the nothingness that once discovered is infinitely compelling, and absolutely absorbing.... Once you truly become interested in the darkness, you wouldn't want the movie to start. You might actually be disappointed when it started, because it would take you away from your meditation.

I see parallels with T'ai Chi Chih moving meditation. There are days when my practice is so all-encompassing that I need do nothing more than stay in the softness of the present moment: shifting weight, leading with t'an t'ien, keeping my attention in the soles of my feet.

Lately, of course, like many others I've been busy, distracted, and overwhelmed. Though I know the value of staying attuned to the moment, I'm too geared up, too on alert, too high speed to allow myself to slow, breathe, relax, wait.

During tonight's TCC practice I began to deaccelerate. I applied the brakes, movement after movement, breath upon breath. By the conclusion of my half-hour practice I was just beginning to journey beyond the boundaries of my day-to-day existence and relax into a greater emptiness. Tomorrow I'll return to this location. And the next day. And the next. Each day a continuation of the ever-present jouney. Each day a new beginning. Each day, each moment carrying me into the mystery of nothingness. With no-thing to do.