Buddha | Paper Clay Nature

Attitude of Gratitude? Not so much.

November 23, 2016

Posted by Sharon

While we all know that cultivating an attitude of gratitude is a part of living our most joyful life, how can we authentically do this when we are less than grateful? Feeling ashamed or guilty about the “real” nature of our feelings, or pretending to be thankful for what we would have very much preferred to say “NO thank you” to in our lives gets in the way of happiness and creativity. What if your heart is broken? What if you are in terrible pain without relief in sight? What if you have received terrifying news that has changed your life in an even more awful way? Even with all the joyful self-help gurus and happy, shiny, advanced yogi specialists beaming at you from their glossy magazines promising peace and abundance for all your expressions of gratitude, and even as much as you wish to crawl into their tie-dyed yoga pants and bask in the bliss of all that they proclaim and stand for, the truth is that when your life is going to Hades in a hand basket…….well, no matter how thin you slice it, it’s still baloney.

But, if you are reading this, you DO have something to be grateful for. This something does not, in any way, diminish however awful things are for you right now. As the Buddha taught us, suffering is a part of the human existence. We suffer because we desire things to be anything other than what they are right now. We suffer because we are afraid, when things are wonderful, that we will lose that fabulous feeling. Therefore, we know that our suffering can exist at the same time as our one thing that we always have to be grateful for. What is this one thing that is ever-present? Breath. Yes, if you are reading this or even aware enough to listen to someone else who can read it to you, then you have this one thing that you can be grateful for in this moment.

You don’t have to pretend that all the suffering isn’t there. Well, at least, don’t pretend on my account! I don’t even own a single pair of tie-dyed yoga pants for you to covet or crawl into. (Although, if anyone reading this is inclined, I would absolutely LOVE a pair!) I’m suggesting that there is a way to cultivate gratitude even when all hope is lost. The beauty of observing the breath and being genuinely thankful that it is with you, of you, and through you, is that you create a little hope and space where there just didn’t seem like any could be found or made. No, all your problems aren’t solved. But, the subtle shift may be just the little miracle you need. If not, you were taking those breaths anyway and so nothing gets lost through your effort.

I was recently reading a book about the subtle body by Tias Little. I randomly opened it to a page with a breathing exercise that described the lungs as an upside down tree with the branches (lung tissue) towards the earth and the roots in the upper palate/roof of the mouth. I love this visualization because, in Chinese subtle body mapping, the color of the liver energy is green. In Hatha yoga chakras, green is the color of the heart-chakra. Therefore, when we breathe in, we can grow green leaves and fill the branches of our respiratory tree making it more and more lush with each in-breath. As you exhale, you can feel those roots reach towards the crown of your head and pull up on the roof of your mouth. There is actually a pleasure center of the brain that is located right above the upper palate of the mouth. When you exhale, the palate lifts and stimulates this center. Thinking about this tree helped me stay focused on the breath in a very powerful way. When I am very upset, using a strong visual tool like this helps me stay present with the breath. Otherwise, my mind tends to wander and feed my sadness, fear, or pain. Sure, when times are calm and good we can be aware of the in-breath, breathing in, and aware of the out-breath, breathing out. But, in times of chaos and confusion, using visualization can mean the difference between a nourishing and a frustrating practice.

Please do not feel that accessing these few moments of peace require that you deny the reality of your sufferings. Feel all your feelings, know what is true for you, and be authentic in your expression and communication! All the while, know that you can also create a sanctuary of peace and beauty through the practice of breath awareness. Although the in and out nature of the breath happens without your explicit effort, you can still find some gratitude in the presence of breath. How lovely to feel and hear the breath coming in! How amazing to be able to feel the release of the breath and all that is no longer needed! It is happening right now.

Posted by Sharon Fennimore, a yogini, teacher, and writer based in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Find out more here.

We Can Be Buddhas

November 21, 2012

Posted by Sharon

Spring Meditation #1: Faith

March 2, 2011

Posted by Sharon

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Each year, in preparation for spring, I read this book:

Faith: Trusting Your Own Deepest Experience
by Sharon Salzberg

In my practice of both Catholicism and Judaism, I always appreciated the statements of belief that come at the beginning of a mass or service. I like the idea of a gathering of people who very clearly state, up front, what joins them together and what they wish to publicly announce as their main practices and beliefs. It’s a very powerful feeling to be a part of that prayer. The ability to state, with such certainty, these statements of belief that provide the foundations that both define the religion and the basis of the prayers and practices of that religion, requires faith. By repeating these statements, and especially by repeating them as a group, they provide a significant structure of support for those beliefs and practices. But, it isn’t belief that brings that group together. It is faith.

This book by Sharon Salzberg is a profound exploration of what faith is and how it continues to work as a powerful force even when we feel that we have lost it. Although it is written from a Buddhist perspective, or, at the very least, the perspective of a Buddhist, the ideas can be applied to the human condition in general and are not specific to any particular religious practice. Perhaps, a Buddhist exploration of the idea of Faith can be so open precisely because questioning is an important part of Buddhism. Practitioners are told not just to believe, but that they should practice and see what the reality of their own experience is. Not only are you not going to hell for asking the question, but questioning is an integral part of the faith and practice.

Why this book? Why spring?

First, I learned this concept of re-reading certain books at certain times of the year from my mother. Each December, she would sob her way through the New York City subway system reading Charles Dickens’, Christmas Carol. The first time I read Faith it was in the fall and I was drawn to re-read it that spring. It has become my “spring book” and this ritual is part of my spiritual preparation at the end of winter, when I just can’t take one more minute of cold or darkness, to remember that the seeds of spring have been cradled and nurtured deep within the earth the whole time.

Second, I learned to see that our biggest and smallest choices in life reflect our faith on a daily basis from my father. At a speech he gave at my first wedding rehearsal dinner, he expressed the idea that the act of getting married is one that reflects our ability to have hope and faith. If we didn’t feel like we could carry love into the future, we wouldn’t do it. Even with the awareness that marriages fail, the act of getting married reflects a faith that it is also possible that some will not fail. Our ability to have faith in our relationships, even while knowing that the people we love and that love us the most are not perfect and can’t be loving all the time is a spiritual practice. This preparation for spring and considering the role of faith in my relationships, my work, my family and in my own choices is an important ritual that, just as powerful as a statement of belief, helps me to re-gather my spirit after a time of darkness.

Third, the truth is that I start to lose it by the end of winter. The kind of “losing it” that requires more than a new lipstick to feel better. Reading this book on faith reminds me that the seeds of spring have been cradled deep in the earth all winter long. It is only my inability to see the life and to focus only on what is not living that causes my discomfort and un-ease. Within the ground, not even that deep, lie the bulbs we planted this last fall. They are happy and safe in the darkness of the earth, resting all their forces for the burst of life that will come when they feel the sun start to warm the surface. And this, of course, is a wonderful reminder that I can choose my focus and my perspective at any time, in any season and apply this lesson of spring to all the winters of my life.

Meditation in Motion

February 14, 2011

Posted by Sharon