The Chronic Meditator

Hello again!

2012-09-15T23:45:00.003-07:00

Well...hello there!

Yes it's been a while, but I'm tentatively re-dipping my little toe into the bloggersphere; I'm going to try a small post and see how I go.

My excuse? I would like to say the internet was broken at my house and I just got it mended, but unfortunately it was my body that failed me - yet again. Blerg. I'm pretty sure you all know how that story goes, so I won't go into detail about it.

Instead, I'm going to re-post a little travel report that I recently wrote for another blog I have (which my family sees). I'm in Malaysia at the moment, lying on a couch in my sister Maz's apartment, looking out over the sea to the island of Penang. The view from here is AWESOME!

This photo was taken from her lounge-room. At any time there are usually 3 or 4 large tankers lined up to go into the docks, so we're also planning on getting some binoculars so we can spy on some sailors.

We are looking right out over the Penang island. If we had this view coming the other way (from the island to the mainland) it would cost about $2000 a month, but because we are in scruffy Butterworth, it is a bit cheaper than that. (Ok, it's about 80% cheaper than that. It really is scruffy over here).

We are definitely NOT in a tourist zone here, I haven't seen another 'westerner' since I've been here. The locals are a mix of Malaysian, Indian-Malaysian and Chinese-Malaysian.

I was going to say it's a melting pot, but actually, it's the opposite because the 3 groups are quite distinct and even after they've been here 3 or 4 generations they don't mix that much. Intermarriage isn't common, and they all speak different languages and are different religions, so the differences between the 3 groups are quite obvious.

They all seem equally prejudiced against each other - a Chinese person told us to be careful to lock the apartment because there were hordes of Indian youth delinquents around, then an Indian person told Maz to lock up her bike because 'those naughty Malaysian boys' would steal it. So, everyone seems to think that everyone else is out to get them - which explains why this apartment building is guarded like fort-Knox. They have 24 hour security guards, and everyone has these hideous grills in front of their doors...

Hideous grills - apparently you just shake them if you want to 'knock'.


The apartment building - looks quite good from a distance...

..but not quite as classy close up!

The food here is AMAZING, and ridiculously cheap - I ate for the whole day yesterday for $2.50. And, it's just so tasty, they use fresh spices in everything and it all tastes quite different.

OK, here's Mazzy signing off, Malaysian-style. Peace out.

Howdy from Oregon!

2011-05-31T08:01:00.000-07:00

Yes, I am no longer in Australia but in beautiful central Oregon. My silence over the past month has been due to the fact that I’ve been on an epic voyage (well, epic for someone with CFS!)

I was a university student a Kansas University 15 years ago, and it’s where I got sick. I never thought I’d be able to come back to the US but a few opportunities opened up, and the trip planned itself in about 30 mins. (It’s always a good sign when things fall together as easily as that.)

Firstly, Centrelink (the Australia Govt body that gives me my disability pension) allowed me to go to stay in a number of countries around the world, mostly 1^st world countries, for as long as I liked. Then, the Australian dollar reached parity with the US dollar – so I could afford to stay here. Then, a friend of mine moved to the little town of Sisters, in central Oregon, and said, ‘come on over…I think you’d like it.’

So I came – and I do like it!

I didn’t write anything about the on my blog before I left because the lead-up to the trip was stressful. A lot of feelings that I’d blocked from the time I first got sick started to re-surface. It was emotionally and physically draining, I felt like I could only take one day at a time, and was never entirely confident I would make it onto the plane.

I had hoped I would have had all my crying out of the way before getting on the plane (that was my plan anyway. Plans, schmans! I don’t know why I bother making them!) So, I cried on every flight I was on, then cried in the airport, in the supermarket, in the café, in the… well, you get the idea. I single-handedly (or single-nosedly) bumped Kleenex’s sales up 10% over the past month.

I broke my flight up in Hawaii, which was so beautiful. I even had a good energy day and the woman I was staying with grabbed me and said, ‘get in the car…you need to see at least SOME of Hawaii!’ So she got her big plastic cup of rum and coke and we jumped into her jalopy and drove around the island with the rum sloshing around and Christian music blaring from the radio. The coast-line was spectacular…I can see why tourism is their biggest industry.

Then I flew straight to Oregon, and am in Sisters which is a small town on the edge of the high desert, with beautiful mountains in the background. Here are some photos taken just down the end of my street. Lucky me!

I’m not sure how often I’ll be writing blog posts from here. I’m just going to take it easy, and write whenever the urge grabs me, rather than trying to keep to a schedule.

Hope this finds you, my lovely reader, happy and having a day with at least a few sweet things in it. (I have apple-pie fudge in my fridge, so that will be my sweet-thing.)

Hatred never ceases by hatred

2011-04-25T15:39:00.000-07:00

I was just listening to a podcast talk by Jack Kornfield, a US Buddhist teacher and former monk. In the talk Jack tells the story of working in a Cambodian refugee camp with his teacher Maha Ghosananda. Maha Ghosananda was a Buddhist monk who became known as Cambodia's Gandhi for his work to bring peace to Cambodia after the Pol Pot holocaust that decimated its population.

I transcribed the story becuase I thought it was so profound. Here is is as Jack tells it.

"Mahagosanada got permission from the UNHCR to open this little Buddhist temple in the centre of the camp - which was 50,000 people in these little huts, without hardly any water or shade. And when the Khmer Rouge found out that the temple was being opened they let it be known that anyone who went to the opening would be killed when they returned to Cambodia.

So, it wasn't clear whether people would come at all. But he was this incredibly good hearted and loving monk. He was spared being killed - most of his family and monastery were killed - because he was in Thailand for the worst of it.

So he went around ringing this bell once the bamboo temple was made, and in the central square 25,000 people came. Half the camp showed up. And he sat there, in this dusty camp, looking out over the faces of these people, the faces of people in trauma. There would be one uncle with 2 nieces who had survived, a grandma with 2 grandchildren. Everone had lost family members, temples burnt, schools destroyed.

And I thought, 'What is he going to say to these people who have lost so much?' And he put his hands together and just began to chant, sounds in Cambobdian and Sankskrit that they hadn't heard for 8 years. In this beutiful chanting tone he began to chant one verse from the Dhammapada which says, 'Hatred never ceases by hatred but by love alone is healed. This is the ancient and enternal law.'

And after a while 25,000 people were singing, 'Hatred never ceases by hatred but by love alone is healed. This is the ancient and enternal law.'

And it was as if he was speaking a truth that was even bigger than their sorrows. Yes, there's destruction, yes, there's killing and still, there's no end to this without love."

Sunrise

2011-04-07T16:47:00.000-07:00

What is the good of your stars and trees, your sunrise and the wind, if they do not enter into our daily lives?

E. M. Forster

I woke up early yesterday morning and saw this beautiful, crisp, Autumnal sunrise happening right outside my window. I grabbed my camera and took a few shots from my front-yard. How beautiful! I love EM Forster's novels (Howards End is probably my favorite) and thought his quote was a good match for these photos.

A healing touch

2011-04-01T21:58:00.000-07:00

Over the last few days I’ve gone into a fairly regular kind of energy slump where even listening or thinking becomes painfully exhausting. It’s as though my body is so tired that even moving my mental muscles to form a thought makes me ache.

Yesterday, as I was lying in bed I caught myself trying to do a metta (compassion) practice when I was too tired to think straight. I was trying to form kind and caring thoughts about being in pain, but this mental ‘trying’ just increased my pain. Hmph! I was stuck.

Then a section of Toni Bernhard’s book ‘How to be Sick’ (oh, how I love that title!) came to mind. Toni writes about cultivating compassion towards herself in the face of chronic illness by using phrases of care and understanding such as 'My poor body, working so hard to feel better'. She then writes: 'Whatever words I choose, I often stroke one arm with the hand of the other. This has brought me to tears many times, but tears of compassion are healing tears.'

Following Toni’s suggestion, I stopped trying to think compassionate thoughts and just started stroking the top of my hand with my other hand. This kind, compassionate touch went beyond all thought, straight into the heart of the matter; ‘Oh, I’m sick. How sad.’

I was transported back in time to when I was very young – 5 and 6 years old – and spent months in hospital with asthma. I was not only isolated from the world, but also cut-off from my immediate surroundings by a thick plastic tent covering my bed. Asthma medication was pumped into the tent, so I could breathe it in and out. The intention was to heal, and it probably saved my life many times over, but the experience was confusing and so very lonely.

The simple act of touching my own hand brought me back to this sad time; a time where all I really wanted was kindness and a sense of connection – to hope, life, and the outside world. It felt as though offering myself this care, even 30 years on, was a kind of healing. This beautiful and simple practice gave me a sense of mothering and caring for myself.

Thankyou Toni!

Beautiful Gili Air - Lombok - Indonesia

Awakening Now

2011-03-27T21:18:00.000-07:00

Awakening Now

by Dana Faulds

Why wait for your awakening?

Do you value your reasons for staying small

more than the light shining through the open door?

Forgive yourself,

Forgive yourself.

Now is the only time you have to be whole.

Now.

Now is the sole moment that exists to live in the light of your true nature.

Perfection is not a prerequisite for anything but pain.

Please, oh please, don't continue to believe

in your stories of deficiency and failure.

This is the day of your awakening.

Danna Faulds is a US poet and practitioner of Kripalu Yoga. She's written four books of yoga poetry: Go In and In; One Soul; Prayers to the Infinite; and From Root to Bloom.

Self-Compassion Phrases

2011-03-21T14:38:00.000-07:00

Hello lovely readers!

It's been a while since I've posted, mostly because I've been busy crying. (I am confident that at the end of this financial year I will get a thank you letter from Kleenex and hopefully a free mega pack of man-sized tissues to see me through another afternoon of weeping).

When I last posted I wrote about doing an exercise where I recorded how I was feeling and then responded with phrases of self-compassion. This little exercise opened the flood-gates and 15 years of 'coping' has been washed away in my tears, as I allow myself to feel all grief-stricken, pissed-off and crappy at losing so much of my life to this illness.

I've been practicing saying little phrases of self-compassion to myself as I lie in bed feeling whatever feeling is present in the moment. To help myself do this, I've been collecting and writing down phrases of compassion and kindness. During the day, I have the list of phrases open on my laptop and while I'm resting I just open my eyes every so often and pick a phrase to repeat to myself.

I thought I'd share this list in the hope that some readers may find it useful. I'd love to know what your favorite self-compassion phrase is!

Bumper list of self-compassion phrases

Yes, I’m sick – it’s difficult.

What’s going on here? How are you feeling?

It’s not my fault, there’s nothing I have to change.

I never get to choose a feeling – I just get to choose how I will meet the feeling.

I’m sad that I’m sick.

I’m sad that I feel this feeling difficult.

This feeling is meant to be here, and I care about it.

How are you? I’m seeking to understand, not to change.

I’m doing the best I possibly can in this situation, a really good job.

I’m doing a great job of resting and taking care of myself.

I feel agitated, I want to ‘do stuff’ – well, that’s totally fine. It’s totally normal to feel like you want to do things when you’re sick. I’m sure we’ll find time for you to do that later.

Even though x is happening and I feel x I choose to trust the place I am in.

I know I’m a good person because good people feel x and I feel x. Therefore I’m a good person.

It’s not my fault – it’s just happening.

I love you every way that you are, exactly as you are – and I’ll help you to be any way you want to be.

I’m here to make life better; I’m here to help.

This matters. Whatever it is, it matters.

(My latest portrait - I thought it suited the mood of this post!)

Developing the Mentor Pt 3

2011-02-19T14:11:00.000-08:00

For a few weeks now I’ve been writing about using Zen teacher Cheri Huber’s techniques of discovering an inner mentor. (Here’s Pt 1 and here’s Pt 2).

My task for the past week was to make a recording of myself talking about something in my life I was struggling with and then recording what the ‘mentor’ would say in response.

When I started to do the recording I didn’t have a plan of what I would talk about. I just turned on the video recorder on my laptop and found myself describing how I was feeling physically; just listing my physical symptoms.

‘I feel exhausted…my head hurts and the muscles behind my eyes feel tight…’

Then, I found myself describing how I felt about all these physical sensations.

‘I feel so left out, and so envious of other people who can get out of bed and do things…I feel like this is my fault and I should be able to change it…’

Then, I used the second half of the recording to say mentoring, compassionate phrases to myself. I found it quite difficult to come up with these phrases, they certainly didn’t flow naturally!

I found myself saying things like,

‘I’m not here to criticize – I just want to listen, and to try to understand what this is like…I’m here to help in any way I can…I’ll support you through this.’

Saying all these things was incredibly moving, and listening back to the tape everyday has been so comforting but also very, very sad.

I’ve been sick for 15 years and this past week is the first time I’ve been able to cut through the numbness that surrounds this illness and just feel my physical sensations and the feelings I have about them. I'm starting to realise how trapped I've been in the beliefs that I ‘shouldn’t’ be sick, that being sick is my fault, and that acknowledging my physical symptoms is a sign of weakness.

I am starting to have some awareness of the cycle of blame. Something bad happened (I got sick) and my instinct was to judge and blame. The judging and blaming led to more difficulties (I was numb, I couldn’t feel much at all) and I felt that the way out of this problem was to judge myself a little more (I’m such a cold person, I’m so judgmental, I’m not kind…blah blah blah).

As the saying goes: ‘It’s heaven all the way to heaven and hell all the way to hell.’ I thought that by piling on the criticism and judgment I would ‘improve’ myself and get better; I thought it was ‘hell all the way to heaven.’ But, really it was just hell all the way down.

Starting to feel again is painful. Sometimes it feels as though there is an intense, white, anguish that rises up through my bones as I allow a feeling like sadness or grief move like a wave through my body. But it also feels right, and real. I feel I’m learning to counter the instinct to judge with the mentoring voice and I can see small, but important changes.

I woke up yesterday morning feeling exhausted. As I lay in bed I cried, because I was so tired and it was the beginning of another long day with this illness. After about 10 minutes I stopped weeping and realized that was the first time in 15 years I had just spontaneously cried because I was sick – and not pushed my feelings down by saying something like, ‘well…it could be worse, there are people who are much worse off than you’ or ‘well, you don’t deserve to feel sad, it’s really all your fault.’ I had just allowed myself to cry for 10 whole minutes. Quite an achievement.

+++

On a completely different note - I posted before Christmas about doing a house portrait for my dad. I just got it mounted onto a wooden block and had some photos taken and here's what it looks like. I think it's quite cute!

Developing the Mentor Pt 2

2011-02-04T15:41:00.000-08:00

Last week I wrote about a little project I was doing with a friend of mine. She has been doing an e-mail course with Cheri Huber and one of her assignments was to teach someone else the techniques she's been learning in the course.

My first task, which I wrote about last week, was to record myself talking about all the positive things I was doing to help my life improve, or be a bit happier. I've been listening to this recording every day and have found that it really helps to externalise the positive, mentoring voice in my head.

This week's task was to spend some time just thinking about who this mentor might be. When I think 'mentor', does an image of a person come to mind? Or many people? When the mentor speaks, what does their voice sound like? If the mentor isn't a person - what is it? Perhaps there's a particular feeling, or color, or sound associated with it.

All interesting stuff to muse on.

I've been interested in Cheri Huber's work for a year or so now, so I've thought before about the qualities and persona of my mentor. My mentor changes a bit. Often it's an older woman (modelled on some older Catholic nuns I met during my time doing volunteer work with refugees - truly inspirational women). My other mentor 'voice' is a man of about my own age who speaks with a slow Texan drawl.

The Texan drawl bit was odd at first, but I worked out that I liked the idea of the mentors voice speaking to me really slowly and calmly, and when I tried to imagine that the Texan drawl is what I heard! (A bit like Owen or Luke Wilson's accents).

So, my mentor is kind, accepting, speaks slow Texan, and is either Luke Wilson or a nun. Hmmm...kinda weird, but it works for me!

A pictorial depiction of the inside of my head. Confusing!?

It is simply necessary to love

2011-01-24T13:15:00.000-08:00

Everyone discusses my art and pretends to understand, as if it were necessary to understand, when it is simply necessary to love.

- Claude Monet -

Developing the mentor Pt 1

2011-01-18T13:35:00.000-08:00

A friend of mine (who also has CFS) has been doing an e-mail class with US Zen teacher Cheri Huber over the past few months. Cheri's work places a strong emphasis on developing a compassionate and kind inner-voice, which she calls a 'mentor'.

As part of the e-mail course my friend was asked to find someone else to teach some of Cheri's practices to, focussing on the development of an inner-mentor. I am the proud little guinea-pig!

I thought I'd blog about doing my 'assignments' (because if I blog about them it means I actually have to do them!)

My first task was to find a way of recording my voice. I ended up just clicking on the video recorder in my laptop and recording myself speaking on video. This way, the recordings are on my desktop and with one click I can be listening to them. (I thought it was important to make the listening process as simple as possible, or I'd find an excuse not to do it! Like most people, I don't particularly enjoy listening to my voice on tape.)

My next task was to record myself saying all the positive, good things I was doing to support myself in my meditation and awareness practice, and all the ways I was committed to giving myself a better life.

It was quite weird to record myself saying these things, but I came up with three minutes of affirming statements. The recording says things like: 'I'm really committed to making my life better and giving myself the best chance of getting well and finding peace. Even when my meditation practice is really difficult and I feel like I'm getting no-where I still keep going. I'm committed to spending money on books and on my psychologist. I'm committed to travelling to the monastery whenever I can. I really appreciate the parts of myself that are persistent and focussed and creative - because these parts help me just to keep going in this practice.'

Now my task is to listen to this recording every day. As I listen I silently say, 'Yes, that's true' after every statement I make on the recording.

It is very interesting to listen to what the critical voices in my head say in response. 'No - it's NOT true!' they say. 'If you carry on like this, just focussing on positive things, you'll never get well!'

I try not to engage with these voices, but just bring myself back to the recording and my silent repetition of 'Yes, that's true.'

I've been listening to Cheri Huber's radio programs for a year now and have noticed she often recommends people record themselves speaking. Until I did it myself I wondered why, but now I see why it's so powerful.

I have a 'voice' running continuously in my head, and for 99% of the time it's a voice of judgement, and comparison. Having another 'voice' that I listen to on my laptop makes it clear that what is going on in my head is just one opinion. It's not necessarily correct and I can learn to develop this kind, mentoring voice and then have a choice about what I listen to.

All very interesting! I'll let you know about the next assignment when I do it.

Self-Compassion and Levine Talks

2011-01-06T15:10:00.000-08:00

This blog has many lovely readers and one just e-mailed me a link to a website I thought you might like. It's called self-compassion.org and is a collection of writings, MP3 downloads, and exercises all focused on self-compassion.

There's even a test you can take called 'How Self-Compassionate Are You?' (I'll admit I'm a little scared to take that test!)

There are some lovely resources on the site, including some written self-compassion exercises that I'm going to try. The website's author, Kristen Neff, is a US professor who is also a Buddhist and has a book about self-compassion coming out in April.

Another website I discovered recently is Levine Talks - which features audio by the wonderful teachers and writers Steven and Ondrea Levine who spent many years working with sick and dying people. This website has been set up to give some financial support to Steven and Ondrea who are now retired and both quite unwell - so it's not free. (But, at $10 a month it's not crazy expensive either!)

Hope you are all enjoying the first days of the New Year (and not snowed under!)

Mekong River view taken opposite my guesthouse in Luang Prabang, Laos.

Happy New Year!

2011-01-01T16:15:00.000-08:00

New Year's greetings! I hope this coming year is one of peace, happiness and as much health as is possible.

After living it up over Christmas I am now in an energy slump. (Mojitos at midnight? Never a good idea...)

But, I do have a new haircut to console myself with as I spend the next few weeks recovering in bed. One of my sisters, Brigid, (in the top photo with stripy top) is a wizz with a pair of scissor and she and my Irish cousin gave me an asymmetrical new hair-do.

Reactions from other family members were mixed. Well, actually, they weren't mixed at all. One sister said, 'It looks like someone has hacked at the back of your head with a hatchet.' And the other said, 'Our hair grows symmetrically for a reason, God makes it that way.' (I asked her when she'd last seen a symmetrical tree).

My other news is that the little print I commissioned as arrived and it is gorgeous and so detailed.

I love the way Plamena wrapped the text around the image.

Our tacky Christmas tree

2010-12-25T13:58:00.000-08:00

Merry Christmas all!

I have been waiting a week to post this, because my internet connection is bonkers and I haven't been able to up-load photos.

My cousin Rob and his wife Mairead are visiting us from Ireland for Christmas. They are wonderful cooks and the house is full of yummy, yummy food. Today they made olive tapenade, hummous, and babba ganoush and I am in dip heaven!

Last week Mairead had the idea of making a Christmas tree using a branch from a gum tree. We grabbed some of my spray-paints and painted the leaves red (yes, they match Mairead's hair!)

Then we we painted the trunk bright green and went into town to buy some tacky lights which we wrapped around the stem and put into the leaves. Here's what it look like up:

It is completely tacky and ridiculous and we LOVE IT! (The rest of the family don't seem so keen but the whole thing cost $10 so we don't care).

Merry Christmas to all.

Alchemy II

2010-12-04T14:34:00.000-08:00

Last week I wrote about getting a little custom artwork made for me by a Bulgarian print-maker named Plamena Doycheva.

Because I do portraits on commission I was interested to try out the commission process from the other side, and so far it's been really interesting and enjoyable.

Plamena saw my portraits and asked if I wanted to incorporate a child into the artwork. This is what she sent me:

I loved the layout of the piece, but I didn't really like the child. Perhaps I've been doing too many portraits, but the child just reminded me of work (and stress!)

So, the child was taken out and this was the next sketch, which had a volcano instead of the child. I loved this.

I was really interested in learning about the print-making process and Plamena wanted to know about making stencils, so we've been exchanging photos.

Once Plamena has the basic sketch, she uses metal plates (washed with some kind of chemical) and some etching tools to etch the design in. These are some photos of the plates, tools, and her etched design.

I can't wait to see how it turns out. I really like the whole feel of the piece, and how the quote is wrapped around the image.

So, stay tuned - I'll post an image of the final artwork when I get it. (It's a Christmas present to myself - along with some bikinis. Yes, I know - where am I going to wear bikinis?? But, they were so cute!)

Alchemy

2010-11-26T16:42:00.000-08:00

I am commissioning a small artwork - fun, fun, FUN! I've been working really hard on my portrait making over the past few weeks, so I've decided that my Christmas present to myself will be a custom artwork.

I wrote my request on Etsy's Alchemy, which is nifty little part of Etsy where you can request custom items. I requested a custom artwork which incorportated this quote by George W Bush.

"Hatred never ceases by hatred, but by love alone is healed. This is an ancient and eternal law."

(Nahhh...just kidding folks. It's by the Buddha, of course!)

One of the artists who responded to my request was a print maker from Bulgaria, named Plamena Doycheva. (I just knew she was going to be good - a Bulgarian print-maker - how exotic!)

Here are some examples of her work.

It's so intricate, and with such a soft and sensitive use of color. Plamena and I are going to exchange some e-mails and then she'll do some drafts for me. I'll let you know how the artwork turns out. I can't wait!

How to be @$#%!!!

2010-11-08T14:44:00.000-08:00

I've been noticing over the past week how much resistance I have to certain thoughts and feelings that I think are 'wrong.' Anger is one of the biggies, and I suppose it's like that for a lot of people (particularly women).

As I was sitting with feelings of anger yesterday and noting my resistance, the title of Toni Bernhard's book How to Be Sick came into my mind. (I just love that title; it's both clever and poignant). I did a little flip on the title and found myself saying instead - 'How to be angry. This is how to be angry.'

I imagined a little alien standing in front of me, newly arrived on earth with no idea how we human beings operate. 'How to be angry?' he asked.

'This is how,' I replied, describing my 'symptoms' for him. 'You screw up the muscles in your stomach, you feel your blood racing, your face looks all pinched, your temperature rises, and you think of a person who did something to hurt you. That's how you feel angry.'

I watch as the alien practices feeling how I'm feeling; screwing up his face and clenching his fists. 'Yes, you've got it!' I say. 'Hi 5 Alien-creature! That's how to be angry.'

Spontaneous and creative practices like these seem to cut off the blood supply to my resistance. It's impossible to resist and judge my anger whilst simulaneously teaching an alien life-form how to feel it!

Throughout the afternoon, as emotions and thoughts arose, I'd use the same technique. How to be despairing...how to be bitter...how to be sad...how to be @$#%...how to be peaceful...how to be.

Phrases of Self-Compassion

2010-11-03T23:34:00.000-07:00

Over the past week or so I've been busy digging a truckload of dung into my garden (metaphorically speaking of course, I don't think I could lift a shovel if I tried).

As I've been digging I've been developing some phrases of self-compassion and kindness to help me as I face all the crap that surrounds me - grief, despair, helplessness and hopeless. I think of these phrases as my little cheerleading support team. They are 'Team Emma' - waving their pom-poms around and giving me a good old razzed-up cheer when I finish yet another hour of digging through my truckload of crap.

Here are a few of my phrases:

'Oh, this looks like anger. It's here, but I'm sure I didn't do anything to deserve it. It's not my fault.'

'I don't expect too much of myself today. However I feel is fine.'

'Oh, more anger. It's OK. If I am angry, that's OK. If I'm not angry, that's OK too. I don't have too many expectations of how I'll feel - it could go either way.'

And, if I'm sitting with any kind of pain - emotional or physical - I say: 'Pain, yes...this is pain. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry it's here.'

I've just returned from a visit to my doctor. I dragged myself out of bed to go (only realising when I arrived that my jumper didn't completely cover my pyjama top underneath. Oops!) Anyway, as I was sitting waiting for my appointment I shut my eyes and noticed my physical discomfort. I had a racing heart, a tight fist of tension in my stomach, and my head and back hurt.

'Oh, this is pain,' I said to myself, 'I'm sorry. I'm really sorry it's here.' And, as I sat waiting the tears started rolling down my cheeks. It was such a relief to give myself some sympathy and kind attention. In those moments it didn't matter that other people in the waiting room could see my pyjama top peeking out the top of my jumper, or the tears on my cheeks. I just a great relief and sweetness at being able to express some compassion towards myself in my suffering.

The view from my front-yard at dawn.

Who Ordered this Truckload of Dung?

2010-10-27T21:01:00.000-07:00

I was just listening to a talk by one of my favorite Buddhist teachers, Ajahn Brahm. Ajahn Brahm is a UK-born monk of the Thai Forest tradition who lives in a monastery near Perth, Australia.

During the talk, Ajahn Brahm told his well-known parable about the truck of dung arriving at your door. I cried when I listened to the story, it resonated with me so strongly. So, I thought I'd transcribe it for you all. Enjoy!

(Warning: there are a few swear words in the story...)

Who ordered this truck-load of dung?

Life is like this. You’re sitting in your monastery, or you’re sitting at home or in your office, and then someone delivers you a whole truckload of shit. It’s right in front of your house or office.

There are two things about this delivery of shit in your life. The most important thing is, you did not order it. Life is like that. ‘Why me?’ you say. You didn’t deserve it, this thing just happened to you. You didn’t order it and you’re not responsible for it.

But, the second thing is that no-one saw it coming so you can’t ring up someone and get them to take it away. You’re stuck with it. So the first thing is that these things can happen and no-ones to blame. And the second thing is that you’re stuck with it.

But, there’s something you can do with the dung. You can find the nearest garden, and dig it in. It takes a lot of hard work to dig in the suffering, the disappointments, the diseases, the tragedies of life. But you’ve got no choice.

Actually you have got a choice, because what many people do with the dung of their life is to put it in their pockets. They put it in their handbag, they shove it up their shirt; they carry it around with them. You lose a lot of friends if you carry around shit. So, you should dig it in your garden. It’s hard work – maybe you only do half a bucket or one bucket a day, but you dig it in.

And after a while, we call it the miracle, the miracle of Dhamma (of truth). The miracle is that after a while the dung has disappeared and in its place you have the most magnificent garden. It’s the garden of wisdom, of courage, of compassion. Not just the kindness and compassion you get from books – but the kindness and compassion you get by embracing, understanding and digging in your problems.

This is the garden of the heart.

A place with no preferences

2010-10-24T14:48:00.000-07:00

Tricycle Magazine is a Buddhist magazine with an excellent, interactive website. In their book club section they are currently hosting a discussion of Toni Bernhard's book 'How to be Sick'. Pop on over to read excerpts from Toni's book and participate in a very interesting discussion with her.

Yesterday Toni asked, 'Do others think it's possible to come to a place where it's "okay" to be sick -- where we would have "no preferences" (to quote the third Zen patriarch) as to whether we were sick or healthy?'

An interesting question!

I'm not sure about whether I could come to a place where it's OK to be sick (or, to be more specific, a place with no preferences). I think it's possible, but it's not what I've experienced yet.

What I'm investigating at the moment is whether I can come to a place where I don't have a preference about whether I feel it's OK or not OK to be sick.

Here's what I'm exploring...

If I have a day when I feel miserable, bitter, and very ungrateful about being sick...should I feel a preference that this day not be that way? Should I feel a preference that I feel at ease and peaceful being sick? Or should I have no preferences ?

For me, this exploration is very rich. I'm suddenly allowing all these really difficult feelings to flow through my body - boredom, frustration, anxiety about the future, terror, emptiness, and despair. I know this all sounds really miserable, and not like 'good news' at all, but I have this strong feeling that allowing these feelings to flow is really my path.

At the moment I'm feelings in the depths of despair becuase I am just sitting in the 'soup of my suffering' and experiencing a great helplessness. I'm experiencing what it's like to stop the fight and just allow whatever is happening to happen. This is why I haven't posted on this blog for a while, because I've been feeling an almost crushing sense of despair and depression.

Whilst this feels terrible at the moment somewhere deep inside I know that I just have to keep going. Although my mind tells me that acceptance will lead to an eternal, never-ending despair, I have read enough Buddhist books to have at least an intellectual understanding that I really just have to keep going.

So today, I think my practice will be to lie in bed and not have a preference that I feel one way over another way.

Metta to all on this very difficult journey (called life).


Gili Air - a tiny island just off the coast of Lombok.

Like An Egg

2010-09-21T17:39:00.000-07:00

Artwork by Milé Murtanovski

A few years ago I made a long and tiring journey across Australia to be with a close friend who comes from Africa. At the time, he was a refugee in a detention centre on the other side of Australia and couldn't come to visit me.

After I’d arrived he told me, ‘Your sister rang to say you’d be really tired when you got here. I think she wanted to make sure I would look after you, so I told her not to worry, that I would treat you like an egg.’

‘An egg?’ I said, surprised.

‘Yes, of course. I will treat you carefully, as though I was holding an egg.’

My friend was born in the Congo, and the idea of treating someone ‘like an egg’ was one that came from his culture. It’s a beautiful image. Imagine cradling a vulnerable egg in your hands, neither squeezing too tightly nor holding too loosely.

The image came to mind today as I was watching feelings rise and dissipate during meditation. I found that it helped to imagine my hands holding my feelings with the careful attention I would bring to holding an egg. I saw the ‘egg’ being placed into my hands – anger, sadness, peacefulness – and felt my hands around them, not strangling them with a desire to change or cling to them, but not letting them go in aversion or disgust either.

When the feelings started fading, I would carefully place the egg down, letting it go. Then, the next egg would be placed into my hands, with every egg wanting the same thing – attentive, gentle, care.

Book Giveaway! 'How to be Sick' by Toni Bernhard

2010-09-16T15:48:00.000-07:00

I've got an extra copy of Toni Bernhard's new book 'How to Be Sick - a Buddhist-inspired guide for the chronically ill and their caregivers', to giveaway to one of this blog's lovely readers.

I wrote a review of the book yesterday, and there's more information about it on Toni's website. It's a beautiful book - wise, warm, and full of encouragement and hope.

I'll send the book anywhere in the world. So, if you'd like a copy please click here to e-mail me your name and address. (The e-mail will be private; no-one else will see your details).

The first person to e-mail gets the book. And please, don't be shy - if you'd like the book, just e-mail!

Update: 18 September. The book has gone to Canada! Thanks all!

Book Review - How to Be Sick, by Toni Bernhard

2010-09-15T16:40:00.000-07:00

Over the years I've collected a small library of books on relating to illness from a spiritual perspective. There are some gems out there. My favorites are Steven Levine's poetic and profound accounts of his conversations with people living with terminal illness in Meetings At the Edge and from a more secular perspective, Jon Kabat-Zinn's book The Mindful Way through Depression.

Now I have a new book to add to my favorites. Toni Bernhard, a former law professor, fell sick in 2001 with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (CFS) after a trip to Paris and has never recovered. Despite being mostly bed-bound, she's just published a book with the wonderful title How to Be Sick - a Buddhist-inspired guide for the chronically ill and their caregivers.

Toni writes poignantly of the first months and years of her illness in the first chapters of her book. Her illness blind-sided her, and was only diagnosed as CFS after a battery of tests failed to show anything was wrong with her. She writes, 'I had so much blood drawn that we joked with my primary care doctor that at least we'd proven that blood-letting didn't appear to be a cure'.

The opening chapters were especially resonant for me, because I also fell sick when I was overseas. Toni writes movingly of the incomprehension and the utter disbelief that can accompany the initial stages of the chronic illness. She writes, 'It's just so hard to, first, truly accept that you're chronically ill and, second, to accept that this illness is going to require you to change your plans for life in ways you never imagined.'

Toni's first task seemed to be one that is deceptively simple - to accept that what was happening, was happening. 'I began to bow down to these facts, to accept them, to be them. And then from there, I looked around to see what life had to offer. And I found a lot.' As she developed a relationship with the suffering and loss in her life, Toni was able to use the Buddha's teachings on compassion and joy to cultivate within her a sense of peace.

Toni became a Buddhist in the early 1990's and had many years of meditation practice under her belt before getting CFS. Given that the first of the Buddha's Four Noble Truths is that 'suffering (or unsatisfactoriness) exists', it was natural that Toni would turn to Buddhism as a way of navigating the rocky waters of chronic illness. As she explains, 'The feeling that Buddha understood the pain of my life allowed me to start the day-to-day work of accepting that dukkha [unsatisfactoriness] is present for all beings.'

I think the quote above encapsulates the essence of How to Be Sick - Toni isn't offering a magic, cure-all, pill in this book. She isn't saying, 'Do this and you'll be well' or 'Don't do that or you'll be sick forever.' Instead, she's inviting readers to explore with her the Buddha's teachings as they relate to living with pain, fatigue, loss, and sadness - never forgetting that the basis of the Buddha's teachings is 'how to be happy'.

Toni's background is as a teacher, and it shows. Her book is beautifully written, with a wise, warm tone. It's never overly instructive, but leads the reader around and through different teachings in a way that encourages us to experiment with our own relationship to them. I think it's a book that encourages creativity and exploration in our own journeys with illness.

Throughout the book, Toni teases out and mulls over a variety of Buddhist and non-Buddhist teachings, relating them to her daily life in an intimate, practical, and positive way. Practices discussed in the book include developing loving kindness towards ourselves and others, using the work of secular teacher Byron Katie to question the validity of our thoughts, and reading naughty Zen koans to have a good-belly laugh.

Toni's book is a also a guide for care-givers, and recognises the upheaval and loss that caregivers face when the person they love is affected by illness. The book includes many practical and spiritual reflections that can be used by care-givers as well as the person suffering from the illness.

You certainly don't need to be a Buddhist to benefit from this book, nor do you need to have a chronic illness. I think many of life's difficulties - a divorce, loss of a loved one, an addiction - could be substituted for the word 'chronic illness'. This is a beautiful and unique book. I highly recommend it to anyone interested in cultivating a sense of freedom and joy whilst struggling with life-difficulties.

For more information: Toni Bernhard has a website, and you can buy her book here. (I will be doing a giveaway of the book in a few days - so stay tuned!)

Toni with her gorgeous grandchildren.

The two-sentence rule

2010-09-14T16:22:00.000-07:00

Regular readers of this blog would know that I am quite the Cheri Huber fan. Cheri is a Zen teacher and writer who has some very direct and creative teaching techniques.

Much of the focus in Cheri's teachings is on becoming aware of the voices in our head. She calls these, 'egocentric karmic conditioning'. These voices are the 24 hour non-stop news network we run in our minds. Our own private Fox News channels are full of most of the stuff that the actual 'news' broadcasts; gossip, high drama, tragedy upon tragedy (real or imagined), all broken up with infomercials for miracle weight-loss pills.

Whilst I'd like to think my own version of Fox News is more like the News Hour with Jim Lehrer (or if you're in Australia - more SBS World News than Mornings with Mel and Kochie), I have to admit that Rupert Murdoch has complete control over the content of my mind. The channel in my head isn't erudite, and Paris Hilton gets a lot of airplay.

Mel and Kochie with some dude in an embroidered shirt.

Cheri Huber's life-work is to encourage us to notice these voices that broadcast continually in our minds and to become aware of the strategies they use to pull us out of the present moment. These strategies often include an element of high-drama and possible tragedy. They encourage us to think that life is divided into two extremes; it's win or fail, gain or lose, triumph or tragedy, life or death.

My current extreme story is about a new chronic condition that I've developed. Over the last year, some very mild tinnitus (ringing in the ear) has become worse. Every few weeks it gets louder, and is now at the point where I can't wear earplugs anymore to sleep and it interferes with my resting during the day.

I have always feared getting any other illness that would impact negatively on my sleep and ability to rest, and now it seems like my worst fears have come true. Not only do I have tinnitus, but it seems to be getting worse, and in my mind I am not only resisting it in the moment but engaging in fearful and vivid stories about how it will be so bad in a few years that I will not be able to sleep and will commit suicide.

Now, I try to tell myself that engaging in these thoughts can actually make the tinnitus worse. But, that doesn't really help, becuase I still feel fearful and the thought that I 'shouldn't' be fearful just lumps more anxiety and blame on top of the fear.

This morning I read Cheri Huber's blog, and came across an instruction that I think might be helpful as I go back an forth between fearful projections into the future, and trying to just be present with what I'm feeling in the moment.

"Don’t participate in any internal conversation more than two sentences long."

She goes onto explain this technique:

Egocentric karmic conditioning/self-hate keeps the illusion of duality alive in a conversation about what’s wrong, loss, lack, deprivation, fear, urgency, the past, the future, using judgment and comparison as its tools. Its method is conversation, a conversation in the head of a human who is vulnerable to being caught in a dualistic belief system. Without that conversation the illusion of a dualistic reality cannot be maintained.

I feel like this very simple and clear instruction - 'you don't have to listen to anything that goes for more than two sentences' is something that I might be able to follow over the next few days. My internal conversation about this tinnitus and how it is going to destroy me currently runs at a length that would rival War and Peace, so I can see how just adhering to the instruction to drop any discussion that goes for more than 20 words might be helpful.

I'd be interested to hear of strategies you use to bring yourself back into the here and now.

A new look

2010-09-13T01:07:00.000-07:00

Yay! My blog has a new look and I love it! (It's had this look for a few weeks, but I've just been fixing up a few things and now the 'look' is finalised).

I wanted to write a post to celebrate, but I'm a bit tired. So, instead, some photos. On the weekend I went to my first craft market. It was the Buninyong Makers Market, held in the small town I grew up in. The hall was packed and I hadn't left the house in the 10 days prevously because I'd been so tired, so I was quite overwhelmed by the crowds and the people. I think I met more people in 4 hours than I've met in the past 8 months!

Overall, it was a lot of fun, and it was great to feel some sense of connection with people as they looked at my portraits and asked about my techniques. I shared the table with my sister who makes gorgeous personalised placemats with quirky designs.

Here's us at our table - I love how colorful it is. You can see my sister's placemat designs on the LH side of the photo.

And here's me - swallowed up in a sea of portraits and stencils!