Fire!

I have watched our beloved mountains burn. Smoke billowing white or a ghastly orange~gray, told of trees igniting, flames rising high in the air, sparks showering down. Fox and bird, bear and rabbit fled en masse, individual hearts pounding as one and breaking, too, if young were abandoned. Fire fighters risked death, friends evacuated, tents filled the football fields.

           

As we walked through our home deciding what to take if we, too, were forced to evacuate, we recognized a second list forming as well~~the tally of all we would leave behind. Goodbyes, actual and potential, filled the air. Impermanence greeted us at every turn.

           

The Unbearable Lightness of Being was an eighties~era book and movie whose title returned to me in those first days of fire. Our existence is utterly transitory, so light it can be erased with one clot to the brain, or a single meteor hurtling through the atmosphere. The particulars of our outer lives are likewise uncertain. To the extent that we are attached to things remaining as they are, such lightness feels unbearable indeed. And yet…

           

If we shift our perspective just a bit, that lightness becomes exquisite. Each discreet moment then shines as an expression of a larger Essence, one that comes to us unbidden, asking nothing in return. This beloved dog, that wounded soul, a dear family member, the power of a summer storm unleashed…each a grace embodied, every one a blessing enticing us to open our heart.

           

Those who have lived through disaster seem to unanimously come out the other side with a greater sense of what truly matters. Though their words vary, they tell us that love is all that counts. Love and the ability to spend another precious day open to it all.

            

Years ago, national television coverage of the devastation wreaked by a summer hurricane included an interview with a Caribbean man. In his beautifully accented English, he said it well. “Big wind come along, blow it all away.”

           

At any moment, a big wind can come along and blow it all away. Or a lightning strike upon parched earth, whipped to a frenzy and ravaging everything in sight.

           

Life and death are inexorably linked, as are creation and destruction, hello and goodbye. Maintaining a balance amid these extremes is our challenge.

           

As we become more skilled in fully perceiving each moment in all its uniqueness, we grow better able to recognize the beauty shining through. We attune to that radiance, and learn to welcome it no matter the outer form. Impermanence is a fact, but how we greet it is up to us. Unbearable or exquisite, the choice is ours.

           

The Exquisite Lightness of Being. The book and the movie of our lives.

Namaste, dear friends!

Loanne Marie

P.S. The fire is now 100% contained and no longer visible to us. We never had to evacuate and no human lives were lost. Now we watch as Earth replenishes herself, using this devastation as she does all things~~to beget further life. You go, sweet Mama!

Worry, Epilogue

When I left for vacation, I thought I’d finished my exploration of worry and the anxiety that fuels it. I was wrong. At the very start of my journey, I realized I was merely takin’ it on the road...or to the airways, in this case.

The tiny prop plane I had boarded a few minutes earlier was now buffeted by strong winds zipping down the mountains to our west. There was to be no beverage service on this leg of the journey due to the turbulence. The flight attendant, strapped into her facing seat, sat with her eyes closed; I suspected she was praying. My fellow passengers were eerily quiet.

Although I no longer mind traveling by air, this flight was quite a challenge. I didn’t really believe we’d drop to the ground and burst into flames; other than the occasional stray thought, my attention wasn’t consumed by such pictures. My anxiety, however, was being tossed around with the rest of me.

I knew my emotions were responding to the signals of danger sent by a body and primitive brain structure that had no frame of reference for being bounced about like this a few thousand feet above the ground. I recognized I had a choice~~I could give my panic full sway, or I could opt for a more helpful focus. I chose the latter. I elected to trust in my safety and in the guidance available to me. I also chose to trust that there was a richness offered by this experience I was finding so unpleasant, if only I could meet it halfway. Meet it I did. I asked for help.

Immediately, my mind filled with an impression of a hurricane with its calm center. Not a particularly fresh metaphor, but exactly the one I needed at that moment. I got the message. This image was reminding me that my personal storm could best be dealt with by retreating into its eye.

So I withdrew into the undisturbed midpoint of this inner hurricane, and recognized it as the same spot I find in meditation and other such experiences. For a few seconds, I breathed within a place of stillness and watched the anxiety retreat. Very quickly, though, my balance wavered only slightly, centrifugal force kicked in, and I was thrown back into the tempest again.

But the metaphor continued to serve. I needed only to recall the image to know where I wanted to be. Imagery does that~~it communicates instantaneously, bypassing the slower, and often more entrenched and disagreeable, rational mind. I didn’t need to reason with myself or talk myself into anything. I just knew, and that knowledge seemed to shorten the path back to center. Once safely there again, the stage was set for the process to repeat, as it did many times~~calm, slip, zip, panic, imagine, traverse the path, calm.

Luckily, this was a short flight! Its lesson, however, remains with me. Not all my turbulence is so fierce; the challenge may be as innocuous as a busy brain or attention that meanders. But whether amid a taxing incident or within the quiet of my meditation, the image of the storm with its tranquil eye, continues to speak to me. While this metaphor has three components~~the storm, the eye, and the pathways that connect them~~ I am most cognizant these days of those connecting avenues.

Slipping back into the tempest is such an effortless thing~~that centrifugal force is mighty powerful! I know this is evidence that my balance is still quite precarious~~ one infinitesimal move away from absolute center, and I’m tossed out of Eden, swept into the winds once more.

Returning to the eye takes more finesse. First, I must see that I’ve again been pulled into the storm’s strong currents. This isn’t as easy as one might think~~ I am often zipping about in those blustery winds for quite awhile before I even notice my spinning! Once I’ve got that, I need to also recognize that an eye exists, as well as the pathway to get there. Then, I focus my eye on the eye, knit my intentions together, and choose to be there.

This metaphor both describes a familiar process and gives me a picture that helps me return to center when I’ve strayed. My consciousness relates holistically, and since this is the part of me that needs to catch what’s happening and decide a proper course of action, an image becomes effective shorthand. “Oh, it’s a hurricane! Get to the eye!”

Now, as is true of all things my mind can grasp, this metaphor is not perfect.  All is holy, whether it be the eye, the storm, or the paths between them.  And such divisions, too, are illusory.  However, this image does provide a shorthand clarification of my current task~~to choose to live in harmony rather than in discord.

So I wish you all smooth flying in the coming week. But if you do find yourself circling within your own storm, get ye to the eye!

Blessings!

Loanne Marie