Month: March 2023

Mooji is a Jamaican Spiritual Teacher. That’s him above. Lot’s of warmth in that photo. Lot’s of invitation.

This little piece below came my way recently through a friend. I love her sharing, her guiding, and I love Mooji’s words for the doing and being that arise from the heart.

For those of us that fret regularly or with spiked moments about our knowing, wowza! I’m glad for the reminder. I’m glad for the exquisite invitation to go more deeply within, accepting that there is an inner sourcing that connects to all of the outer sourcings, yet is somehow so richly connected to life living us. Yup, these are stories I wish to be true. Yup, these are stories I wish to live further in to.

I am not
a speaker nor a preacher.
I have no mission to change the world.
I have no original words
or teachings to give anyone.

I reflect only what I have experienced
directly inside my heart, in the most natural way.

I have no fascination for fresh ideas or activity.
All enthusiasm for worldly endeavors
and striving have all but gone.

For me, thoughts words, and deeds —
the activities of life — are merely
the utensils for serving out the
prasad of the Beingness.

A bow for the Beingness — it brings me alive to think of such beingness within me, and with people in groups finding their way.

I’ve been staying pretty close to my Granny Gould these days. That’s her above. Fern Gould. Granny Gould. Sometimes, Granny Cow, because she and my Grandpa Gould / Grandpa Cow would walk the farmer’s fields in Saskatchewan when I was a boy. Grandpa would call / moo to the cows. We kids (my sister, me, my two younger cousins) would squeal with delight. Granny passed in 2016, at 95 — I miss her. And, in the last week in particular I’ve felt Granny Gould close, encouraging me along. I’ve felt her close, bringing me back to some departed parts of myself. It feels good to write about her, even at this small scale. It feels good to include her picture — she was sparky.

We need guides don’t we. I do. I appreciate them. People who have lived some life. People who have lived some love and some loss. People who care for us. People who offer their learning. People who offer perspective. People who share curiosity about life. People who join us and companion us in learning, yet with some of that extra knowing that accumulates through experiences big and small.

I’ve also been staying pretty close to an old buddy these days, Moze. Not in volume of time, but in depth of appreciation. Moze and I go back to some circle work together over the last five years. We also go back to some potent learning together, experienced in those ways that come with soulful friendship and honest showing up. Moze lives in Australia. It was our call last week that further inspired and guided me.

We were catching up with bits of our lives, our work, our mysteries, our day-to-day, our new respective loves. Somehow we found our way to the themes, “wonder in the ordinary” and “trust in a more beautiful outcome.” Just right timing. Just right dose. Just right remembering. Just right encouragement for life practice and living. Just right mutual guiding.

As I continue to live a period of opening — in love, in work, in family, in humaning — I so appreciate such simple reminders. From Grannies. From pals. Reminders that I carry with me, that center me, that clarify, that bring me home — to the next first steps of what is near me and now.

Yup, grateful.

Lately, I’ve been reading a few posts from friends that flesh out some of the many patterns we humans have with screen time and social media. One example is Chris Corrigan in which he references “stolen focus.” It’s the tendency to get swept away (down rabbit holes, etc), following posts and links to everything from brilliant to ridiculous. It seems to me it’s pretty deliberate strategies to capture our respective attentions. It’s both brilliant, right — the emergence of such a phenomenon in a digitally available world. It’s also maddening, right — feels like creating additictions that take us away from being in more quality with ourselves and with others.

I know that there are many kinds of relationships that any of us can have with social media (including this blog). I find myself in varied modes and varied seasons. Sometimes I want to follow interesting things and be in the sparkiness of it. However, inevitably what works for me, and as a deliberate act of self-care / well-being, I have to “say no to good things.” I have to say no to following the details. I have to press pause on following the inspiration that others are offering. And instead, I have to say yes to my own creative expression. It’s one of the main reasons that I write — be it this blog, my poetry books, or the other ways that I generate and share materials, formats, ideas, etc. My body and spiritual being needs my inner yes.

I want to say that again — my body and spiritual being needs my inner yes, my creative expression. It’s true for me. For many of us I suppose. I need some of my energy coming from my deep listening to what is inner — not just listening to the volume of great things outer.

Lately, I’ve been revisiting Elizabeth Gilbert’s book, Big Magic. One of the themes that I so appreciate from her is the notion that creative ideas actually are their own life form. They live because of a certain readiness to be expressed or perpetuated into presence and being. It’s means, in a very common way, that for those of us who offer creative expression, it’s not just us creating it. The ideas come to claim us. They come to see if we can host them for a bit. They come to see if we can lend energy to them, to perhaps bring a bit of tangibility or noticeability.

Elizabeth Gilbert writes in her conclusion of the book:

“Creativity is sacred, and it is not sacred.. What we make matters enormously, and it doesn’t matter at all. We toil alone, and we are accompanied by spirits. We are terrified, and we are brave. Art is a curtain chore and a wonderful privilege. Only when we are at our most playful can divinity finally get serious with us. Make a space for all these paradoxes to be equally true inside your soul, and I promise — you can make anything. So please calm down now and get back to work, okay? The treasures that are hidden inside you are hoping you will say yes.”

And so, I bow with appreciation for these insights that flow through me now. Heart, brain, and belly to fingers on keyboard. Associating a few of the things that have found their way before me (thanks Chris, thanks Elizabeth Gilbert), but then also shifting from taking in what others have done to sorting them in one of my creative expressions (this post on this blog).

I so yearn for more of this expression in the groups I work with — creative expression, creative energy, creative living with mystery, creative living with beauty.

Yup, this is one of the things that my many years of facilitating and living have brought forward now.

I didn’t go to chanting school. But I have learned in the company of a few friends and a few elders that chanting brings gifts. I have learned through direct experience, solo and with others.

I don’t focus on the science of chanting. But I suspect that there is much science to share that could be a lot of fun. I imagine it has to do with the physiological impact of sound. I imagine a few things about the entrainment that comes from repetition. I imaging a few things about the importance of vocalized exercise.

I don’t even really focus on the spirituality of chanting. That is to say, I’m not trying to mine from a mountain of spiritual science. But I suspect there is much spirituality to share. I imagine invitation to beings not seen. I imagine sound as a more universal language, across many known demarcations. I imagine a few things about centered and harmonized being.

Hmm…, science and spirituality kind of dance, don’t they.

In one of the purpose of life stories I often tell myself, I remember that “showing up” is of foundational significance. It’s baseline material. It’s bedrock material. In that story there are always multiple simultaneous layers.

• Showing up for self, and as self, is an effort that lasts a lifetime. It is coming to know the deeply inner, the complex inner, the multiverse galaxy that represents even one human being.
• Showing up with and among others, is also an effort that lasts a lifetime. It’s a rich practice. It’s a rich pragmatic. It’s a rich energetic. It’s a mystery of weave into more holistic ways of conceiving life and community, multiverse galaxies connected with other multiverse galaxies.
• Showing up with and for circumstance, is also lifelong. It’s evolutionary. We contribute as we do with our showing up, to lend energy, to lend curiosity, to lend love. To lend patience. Sometimes grace. Sometimes animation. Sometimes unique gift.

Let’s just say that showing up is big work.

Chanting is one of the ways that I’m currently finding very helpful to be in this life-long effort — yet welcomed in the daily — to be an alive and seeking human being.

Lately, when I chant, I cover my ears with my hands. It makes the sound even more visceral. It makes the resonance, the physical sound, even more palpable and pervasive. Covering my ears helps me to get further lost, or perhaps further surrendered, to a feeling outside of time.

Lately, when I chant, I make up the notes and the sounds. It’s not words per se. If there are words, I find them to be very simple. They are place-holders, temporary hosts, for the sound and energy to have place to live.

I enjoy understanding things. Including chanting. I enjoy discovering and sharing meaning that helps me and others find added richness in life experience — everything from personal clarity to group clarity.

This morning, it’s chanting, with a bit of inherent invitation and encouragement, to give it a go, to continue following life’s invitations to show up, and to welcome through practice, many layers of surprise and well-being.