gift, make your life a

1.
there is a line in ethan hawke's novel, the hottest state, where william, the protagonist, says he is afraid that he's becoming the person he'd pretended to be in high school. i first read that line in 1997, and have been thinking about its meaning ever since. because the line is a sort of paradox. i mean, how can you be afraid of becoming something you pretended to be? wouldn't becoming the person you pretended to be mean you succeeded and thus no longer need to pretend?

the answer, of course, is no. because william is no longer a self-absorbed teenager, and therefore no longer aspires toward a life of self-aggrandizement, status, image.

or does he? because despite all the ostensible changes and travels in william's life, he still retreats into fantasy when he can't find the strength to face reality. the novel, then, is partly about william's desire for authenticity while chronically relapsing into fantasy to flee the messiness of genuine human relations.

2.
i mention all of this because there are times when i feel my own adolescent/teenage persona cry out to be fed, to be given a larger slice of who i am. and i guess this is a problem because, at root, i see the purpose of my life in service of something far higher than does my "high-school" self (HS self). my HS self wants attention, fame, glory, plaudits. let's face it, my HS self wants to be god.

my true self (the person i believe i truly am), however, seeks to live modestly with a humble heart. my true self seeks stillness so as to better hear the song that's in my soul.

the weird thing, though, about stillness is i often experience it most fully while jogging or cycling or practicing yoga.

as counter-intuitive as may seem, i find stillness through movement.

but sometimes i get worried that all these activities are just there to feed my HS self. i sometimes sense he is secretly yanking these moving meditations toward the egotistical: how fast or long can run, how cool can i craft my urban cyclist persona, how perfect can i look in my asanas?

whatever the answers may be to these questions, they are not why i jog, pedal around LA, practice yoga.

i engage in the above activities because they are the best way i've found to connect peacefully, quietly, and viscerally with the world.

3.
perhaps we all battle with a divided self. i certainly do, which is why i was especially interested in what the yoga instructor said a few classes ago. she told the class to treat our practice as a gift for the people we love in our lives.

after class, i asked if she could further explain what she meant. she said the power you build in yoga (or insert your own passion) can be harnessed to help in the quest to serve others.

and so for the past few days i’ve really been working to channel the energy i generate in these moving meditation to become--not the person i pretended to be in high school--but a servant for stillness and peace and human flourishing.

go, where we are trying to

the yoga instructor notices how many of us are struggling with some of the more advanced poses. and so he reminds us to be patient--that through patience, we will arrive where we are trying to go.

there is so much wisdom in what the instructor is saying. i find myself spending the rest of class rediscovering that word--patience--as i roll through one vinyasa after another.

after class, i still have so much to say to myself. so i head to a nearby coffee shop, find a stool by the window, and begin to write. pen and paper.

i wrote for maybe an hour. three or four pages filled with all sorts of ah-ha's, minor epiphanies, simple truths.

i had hoped to type up these notes this evening, and so began editing the piece while riding the bus across the bridge today.

and then...(wait for it)...i left the notepad on the bus.

so what follows is not a Take Two, an entry where i recreate the original.

no.

instead, i am just going to offer a very brief summary--and pray that somehow my call to the transit's Lost + Found will prove fruitful.

so here goes: an uber-compressed version of my recently created (and even more recently lost) treatise.
---

patience is such an undervalued tool. i think we often fail to grasp the full power of it because we are so aware of our finite lives and thus feel we must do as much as possible in the small amount of time we are alive. patience, if anything, seems like a luxury we can't afford.

and yet, the more patience i cultivate in both my world and mind, the more my life seems limitless, infinite. i think patience allows us to enter and exist fully in the present, the life that is happening at this moment.

ahh, those rare moments when i stop chasing some external goal, and instead find myself enjoying the inner trophy of being wide awake in the Now. in those moments, i am struck by how much of life there is all around me--and how little of it i actually need to feel utterly happy, at peace, free.

the inverse is also true. the more impatient i am (the more i demand things to bloom according to my own timelines--forcing my schedule and belief system on things), the less of life there seems to love, and the more frustration i feel throughout the day.

patience--letting things exist on their own terms--is ultimately about trust. a faith in the idea that when we do our best, we finally get to let go. because when we do our best, we will (eventually) get everything we need.

connect, only

disclaimer (one): i am not sure i've ever--and i mean ever--followed through on a new year's resolution; that said, here is my vow for 2011.

i take yoga a few times a week, and always from the same instructor. donna teaches in a grassy park at the foot of Runyon Canyon, and her classes feel like an extension of the environs--open, relaxed, bright, powerful. she often closes class with a quote, a word, a piece of music performed live. sometimes donna ends class with the following line: how you treat others is a direct reflection of how you treat yourself.

disclaimer (two): i think that's the quote. it very well might be the reverse: how you treat yourself is a direct reflection of how you treat others.

no matter which direction the quote runs, however, i think the point remains the same. at least for me. but only recently did this aphorism make sense. the first dozen times i heard it, i simply smiled and trusted that some part of my inner-self grasped the quote's meaning, even if my cerebral side was left bereft.

lately, though, i seem to understand that quote. and i have decided it will be my new year's resolution.

the quote--to me--makes the point that since we all are human, since we all are alive and have hopes and fears and feel love and pain, and since that which binds us in common is far richer than that which can sometimes seem to separate us, and since we all have been given the divinity of life, well then the idea of a Self, a thing inside us that is only ours and therefore unconnected to anyone or anything is a fiction, an illusion.

rather, if we must speak of a Self, we will be better served by seeing it as the core part of who we are when we grasp the totality of interconnectedness among us, the power that animates all of our hearts, the qi that courses through all of our souls.

i think the quote is saying that you are everyone and everyone is you. you are both nothing (in the sense that your Self/ego does not really exist) and everything (you are a dynamic thread among innumerable threads in the great tapestry of Life).

i think the quote is saying if you treat others with respect and compassion, you will treat yourself with respect and compassion. why? because the more you see others as deserving of your heart, the more you notice that the line that separates them from you (and you from them) is artificial. and thus, you will begin to treat all people (which, as it happens, includes yourself) with as much regard and truth as you possibly can.

the reason this quote will be my 2011 new year's resolution? i don't treat others the way i treat myself. i treat others with kindness (at least i believe i do), but i don't always treat myself with the same honor and compassion. when i make mistakes, i scream at myself (using my inner voice); when i fail, i often mentally berate myself for my blunders; when i don't accomplish what i set out to, i heap blame upon myself and wallow in discouragement. and so on and so forth.

but i would never speak this way nor even think this way about a friend. so why do i speak and think this way to and about myself? i guess it's because--somewhere along the line--i started seeing myself, my Self, as separate from humanity, from the human condition, from the collective Soul which pulses through every human heart. and, as a result of this binary distinction, i no longer treated myself as a friend, a partner, a divine spirit worthy of respect and honor.

but if i am not--first and foremost--my own best friend, my own soul mate, then i will find it difficult to treat others as friends and fellow souls. or if somehow do manage to treat others with veneration and regard, but fail to extend the same respect to myself, then i am a planet orbiting a hollow star.

my job, my intention in 2011 is to fill that star. to love that star. to generate compassion for that star. to honor that star. to be that star.

to find the humble light inside and radiate with loving-kindness.

to glow.

to burn.

one modest candle. lit by a sea of flames.

"this is the first day of my life," by Bright Eyes

this song came out around 2005. i've always loved this record, yet never had a moment where i stopped everything in my life, put my world on hold and said, i command you, ari, to feel every bit of the miracle of this music's existence.

today was that day.

somewhat frighteningly, the video might be better than the song.

either, the world isn't mean and you aren't

[photo credit: Steven Harper]

today i attended a dharma talk at green gulch zen center.
norman fischer was the speaker.

he spoke for maybe an hour.

after a short break for tea and muffins, many returned to the Zendo (meditation hall) for Q + A.

i had the chance to ask the following question:

"when people are mean, my natural inclination is to be mean back to them...because i feel if i don't, i am only encouraging their meanness. and yet, i also know that my intention is to live life with a sense of kindness and mindfulness and compassion for everyone, and so i feel conflicted. and i don't know what to do."

best i can recall, here is some of what he said in response.

norman fischer:

a number of years ago i made the resolution to no longer act on aggression. i might feel and experience aggression--i can't control that; but i made the resolution to no longer act on it.

when people treat others meanly, they usually believe that the world is a mean place. and so they believe they must use their weapon of meanness to survive. and, thus, when you return their meanness, you teach them that, yes, they were right, the world is mean.

when we are treated meanly, we can choose to see what is really happening: someone's heart is broken. what we think of as meanness is really, at root, a broken heart, someone who believes that they must mistreat others before they are mistreated themselves.

and i think what you will find is that if you want to stop people from being mean, you should try and show them kindness. because, as mentioned, such a person is being mean out of the expectation that the world and the people in it are mean. what you can do is show that the world isn't mean. that you aren't mean. you can show this person that the world is kind. that you are kind. and in this way, you can help to heal a broken heart.

through, souls surging

i am trying to bring more stillness into my life, trying to quiet my mind and search for the truth inside.

i am trying to listen to my soul.

for me, the soul is that place where i am pure and free and only want to bloom for the world.
where i become one with the force which beings peace to the planet.

but a lot of the time, i have no idea what the soul is.
i might feel it, sense its presence, yet it all seems so far away, distant, dim, impracticable.

how precious, then, are those moments when we feel our souls surging though us.
moments when we are not competing against anyone, assigning value judgements on anything, yearning for less or more, yesterday or tomorrow.
we stop guarding our flame and seek to share light with others.

we feel pristinely good-intentioned.

it is in these times, we feel patient, hopeful, grateful.
we notice the absence of criticism--for ourselves, for others.

we simply allow ourselves to be a force for good, for the practice of peaceful and humble flourishing.

that is our soul.

i find it an infrequent guest.
the more i invite it in, however, the longer it visits.

space, found in

orbit your soul, as planets orbit their star.