all that efforts do not go to waste

i never know when and how grace is gonna strike me. case in point. yesterday i watch the poem 'a thousand mirrors' coming out of me nice and smooth when all of a sudden it stops. the mind is a blank. the verse that i am on goes this way.

the guru's grace continued to strike
ultimately, the last mirror,
so dear to my heart,
the mirror that maintains the difference between the individual soul and the supreme soul,
was about to be destroyed.

the flow of words comes to a sudden halt after 'my heart.' then it's like a river flow, being blocked by boulders, turn into frantic swirls that go round and round. after struggling for a while, i take a deep breath and move on to the next verse. i know i have not forgotten the line.

sure enough, this morning, the smooth flow of sound resumes as if nothing happened. i realize the conviction built up through months and months of daily recitation pull me through this one. in the moment when i cannot find the line 'the mirror that maintains the difference...' i do not lose faith. my faith is not blind. it is based on knowing what i have in my own true nature, knowing that all that efforts do not go to waste, recognizing that all that seemingly separate my own self from the guru's self are nothing but grace.

even tripping up is grace.

no two meditations are the same. this much i know. but i don't know it can be this dramatic from one day to the next. yesterday was all sweet peace. here's how this morning goes. in the beginning it all seems to go as i have been doing the action sequence day in and day out. look. i get up, have my drink of chlorophyll, aloe, a little apple juice and psyllium, poop, - i cannot overstate what a huge difference pooping before meditation makes to the quality of meditation, but i'd better get back to the real drama of the day before i get carried away with pooping - where am i? o, right, then i wash the mouth and teeth and face. some gentle stretches. bow to four directions. bow to my meditation seat. so far, nothing is off track. yet somewhere around i put the earplugs and eyewraps in place i begin to sense something is off within. a little bit. very subtle. it's like the camera lens is slightly, very slightly, out of focus. so slightly that i just dismiss it.

i proceed to rigorously rub my hands to give a little tai chi bath to the eyes, face, head, neck and chest. as i am about to begin reciting 'a thousand mirrors,' the poem that i have been letting off my lips daily for one and a half years i hear a tiny whisper. you'll trip. i thought i knew what it meant. i'll trip over the poem 'breakthrough' which i am about halfway through memorizing. but as i type this now i realize that is the beginning of me getting out of the present moment. the onset of getting off center.

anyway words stream out of me swimmingly. in another corner of the mind the worry that i'll forget some part of 'breakthrough' loops like a stuck record. not loud. but enough to suck my attention out of the present moment. until suddenly i realize words stop flowing out of the vocal cord like a river's flow is obstructed by an unexpected boulder. my attention goes into shock. panic jams awareness. disbelief shakes up the mind. thought waves strike. negative thoughts. heavy thoughts. this can't be. it's impossible. so i try to gather myself, squeeze the scattered attention into the line. 'the reality of my existence is...is...is...' what is the word after 'is?' nothing comes. the brain jumps up and down and all around inside the skull. banggg. wangg. nothing comes. after a while and i don't know how long in terms of the linear passing of time i drag myself to the next verse. obviously i am still not totally in the present. because after 'each mirror was broken into thousands of fragments' i go right back to 'the reality of my existence is...' i struggle some more and go nowhere but round and round like a scared mouse. meanwhile negative emotions take this opportunity and make their appearance. discouraged is the main one. and exasperated too. i won't go into their extended family.

i begin to notice the breath is out of whack. so i do the only thing i know how to do in such dire circumstance. i turn attention to the breath. in a few rounds i watch the edginess in the breathing movement smooth out. then i hear this. relax. i take a deep breath in, a long breath out. a couple of more rounds later, conviction arises from deep within. i can't recall whether it comes with the inbreath or the outbreath. doesn't matter. they all come from the same place. anyway the message i get is this. i haven't forgotten the poem. really, i haven't. why would i even doubt that. scrap it.

with that i see what i need to do. move on to the next verse. and so i do. as i let the rest of 'a thousand mirrors' flow out of me i feel a refreshed, renewed resonance. 'destruction took its time. while grace was penetrating deeply i said to myself, people say grace is a shelter, why, then, am i losing all i have?'
indeed. 'all the reflections are grace. all the mirrors are grace. grace had revealed that everything is grace.' yes, even tripping up like this is grace.

as i step off the meditation mat i hear the inner self say, write with one voice.  'the power of grace takes me across,' ain't it the truth. ain't it the truth.

breath-in-chief.

don't want to come out of meditation. seriously. this is my meditation experience of the day. the body and mind, particularly the body, are immersed in this sweet and pure peace that hums with vibrancy. today the legs have hit the sweet spot. they don't go numb on me like they usually do after forty-five minutes or so. and the breath. o me o my. the breath. i really have the experience my conscious efforts have nothing to do with the ever deepening of the inbreaths and lengthening of the outbreaths. as i type this sentence i can feel this subtle shift in the breathing movement like a master noodle maker deftly pulling the dough between his skillful hands. i am mesmerized. this inner self of mine is truly the breath-in-chief.

back to this morning's meditation. while i am reciting the poems 'a thousand mirrors' and 'breakthrough' i notice, for several times, i emerge from a place beyond words, where there is no sense of time. but i don't catch myself pausing amidst recitation. yet i simply know where to pick up from where i left. the words just arise from this quiet place within. this quiet, fascinating place, my own self.

just like that, two hours have flown by when i step off the meditation mat.

the fear of losing myself gone

in 2010 i memorized one of my guru's poems, 'a thousand mirrors.' i love it so much that this year i'm doing another one, 'breakthrough.' here's how much i love it. every morning, i enter my meditation closet, sit down on my meditation mat, arrange the body into an upright, supported and comfortable posture, close my eyes, start gathering attention to the sound and flow of the easy breath. and then i recite 'a thousand mirrors' and 'breakthrough,' up to the verse that i'm currently memorizing.

this morning, something strange and spectacular happens. a few verses into 'a thousand mirrors' i watch the flow of words from my vocal cord disappear. just like that i am in a space and state that is beyond the linear passage of time, beyond words, beyond action. it is within my awareness and it is holding all that were, all that are and all that will be. the closest approximation that comes to me, as i type this, is deep outer space and beyond where the births and deaths of planets, stars and galaxies happen. billions upon billions of them. after i don't know how long in terms of seconds and minutes the flow of words resume in a natural manner. after another few verses again the word flow gently comes to a pause and i find myself in that realm of beautiful quiet and sweet stillness. by the time i stand up from the mat two hours have gone by.

now here's another fantastic thing. i don't feel fear. the fear of losing myself. not a trace. really, if that is where i'll dwell and how i'll live what's to be afraid of.

another thing i notice is this. the poem flows out of me effortlessly. i have no doubt i own it. that which my guru transmits to me through the river of words belongs to me. the truth of the matter is i have it all along. she is showing me what i already am. such is the power of grace.

a thousand mirrors. breakthrough.

last year me and my buddy claira memorized a poem of my guru. a thousand mirrors. we love it so much that we want to find something to study and memorize this year. then life takes center stage. i have been criscrossing country in hospitals, rehabs and she having a full plate on her life as well. meanwhile we try this, and try that. nothing sticks. finally, this morning, i realize i've become rusty on the poem 'a thousand mirrors,' so i take out the book. just like that i start to read through the other poems. i cannot believe my guru is articulating all that difficulties and frustrations and anguish that i have been going through. i couldn't have put it clearer myself. so i bring it up in our weekly study session. very quickly we decide that this book, in our eye and mind, is our guru's spiritual autobiography. one poem jumps out at me. the title is 'breakthrough.' hey, what's spirituality if there are not breakthroughs. to me, spiritual endeavors are all about breakthroughs. break away from perceived limitations, bondage, preconceived notions, habitual tendencies and so on and so forth. through with the small self, be the highest self. and so it is that our 2011 study goal is to memorize this poem. breakthrough.

there are seventeen poems in the book. one already down. only sixteen to go. i don't have to worry about what to study in the years ahead. nice.