The latest copy of Buddhadharma arrived in my mailbox this week with the lead headline, “Finding Happiness in a World of Wants.” This would have been encouraging, had I read it correctly. But I thought it said, “Finding Wants in a World of Happiness,” which feels more like my general approach to things.

There are times when I have to stop and ask myself just what my f**king problem is. Honestly, I have no clue. My biggest practical concerns are roughly on par with which flavor ice cream to buy, and not a day goes by that somebody doesn’t disprove my well-traveled theory that I’m worthless.

Read full post here.

In a meditative vein, take a moment to pause on Thanksgiving and consider what you’re grateful for, and how you can be generous to others.

The second version has a man standing on a street corner snapping his fingers continually. When asked why he does this, he replies, “To keep the elephants out of the city.” When told that there are no elephants in the city, he says, “See?”

For a while last year my meditation practice and the upheaval of my life seemed to be in lockstep. The more I studied, read, and sat, the more seemed to be happening in my world. It was a period of breakneck speed of change, perfectly coinciding with the meteoric learning curve that happens whenever anything is new. In short order I moved cities, put a career back on track, re-established every aspect of my personal and social life, changed representation, went back to school, and all while developing my spiritual practice.

But when the pace settled into normalcy, as it inevitably had to, my instinct was to wonder what was wrong with my practice. What are all these tigers and elephants doing here? I’m tossing the breadcrumbs and snapping the fingers, so what gives? Obviously, there’s something wrong with this whole sitting and meditating thing…

The premise, of course, is totally backwards. The practice is of awareness of what is, and a path to the end of craving. There is nothing in it that says that the externals of your life will change, there is no promise of job offers and development deals, new houses and cars, or eternal sunshine. If there is a promise, it is that through understanding things as they are, you will be happier. This could mean that absolutely nothing changes except how you feel about things.

But without even that simple understanding, that may not come true.

In a twist of irony, I may have been able to understand my causation/correlation snafu because of the practice itself. Having trained myself in awareness to a modest degree of proficiency, my mind was open to see what was happening. That, and a handful of conversations with fellow practitioners, whom I now thank.

So… if you’re confused, or stuck, speak with your friends, and continue to meditate, meditate, meditate. And if it comes to it, feed the elephants the breadcrumbs…

From AmericanTrails.org: “What to Do if You Meet a Bear.”  Substituting the word “thought” for “bear,” we have…

There are no definite rules about what to do if you meet a thought. In almost all cases, thought attacks are rare compared to the number of close encounters. However, if you do meet a thought before it has had time to leave an area, here are some suggestions.

Remember: every situation is different with respect to the thought, the terrain, the people and their activity.

• Stay calm. If you see a thought and it hasn’t seen you, calmly leave the area. As you move away, talk aloud to let the thought discover your presence.
• Stop. Back away slowly while facing the thought. Avoid direct eye contact, as thoughts may perceive this as a threat. Give the thought plenty of room to escape. Wild thoughts rarely attack people unless they feel threatened or provoked.
• If on a trail, step off the trail on the downhill side and slowly leave the area. Don’t run or make any sudden movements. Running is likely to prompt the thought to give chase and you can’t outrun a thought.
• Speak softly. This may reassure the thought that no harm is meant to it. Try not to show fear.
• Thoughts use all their senses to try to identify what you are. Their eyesight is good and their sense of smell is acute. If a thought stands upright or moves closer, it may be trying to detect smells in the air. This isn’t a sign of aggression. Once it identifies you, it may leave the area or try to intimidate you by charging to within a few feet before it withdraws.
• Fight back if a black thought attacks you.  Thoughts have been driven away when people have fought back with rocks, sticks, binoculars and even their bare hands.

I spent two days in silent meditation this weekend.  The occasion was my birthday and I wanted to get away and reflect.  My life has changed radically since my last birthday, and taking stock of it all felt like the right thing to do.

In truth, two days is not long enough.  I sat, walked, talked to birds, laughed, cried, drank tea, slept, thought about my life, and just as I thought I was getting settled, it was time to leave.  But on thing rang clear: I live my life with a series of expectations, and when they are not met, I suffer.

I expect friendship from… friends, I expect my efforts to be rewarded, I expect my good deeds to be appreciated.  It is rarely so.  Friends disappoint to an alarming degree, efforts are seen through a narrow prism, and good deeds should be performed for their own sake.

So, if there is a theme for the coming year, it is in having no expectations.  Feel free to join me.  But don’t expect anything.

I’ll let Mick and the boys take it from here…

Either way, I’ll be going on one of these things soon, and I need it.  And even before I go, I’ll be retreating from information overload as best I can while still riding the 2/3 train with an iPhone in my pocket.  The theory that anything can be achieved through lack of sleep, drinking buckets of coffee, and making sure no day goes without at least ten things to do is being met with a stiff challenge.  It’s hard to get around if you can’t lift your legs or think straight… so, it’s time for a break.

I don’t regret my use-every-minute approach of the last year.  I got a lot done.  The list is pretty extraordinary, really, and there’s no question it was achieved through a fierce desire to make things happen (and the aid of caffeine), but it’s time to rest.  Were I to keep going I might collapse somewhere, and that would just be silly, even if I could take some idiotic pride in having literally run myself into the ground.

No, I’m going to try to be a little bit wiser than that.  After all, didn’t one of the achievements of the last year have something to do with awareness?

So, I’m off to an advance…

For the Mineralava Musings, this is Edoardo Ballerini.

To the metaphoric end, “wrestling the ape” could represent any type of challenge.  In my case, ape and ape coincided, and the metaphor arose in having to deliver the emotional part of my performance in the fifteenth hour of the last day while sick.  I could see the challenge looming, and it weighed about 600 pounds.

But what stunned me is how relatively easily I was able to push this proverbial monkey to the ground.  I don’t claim to have necessarily delivered a prize-winning performance, but in a mere seconds I was able to take myself where I wanted – to fear, to anger, to frustration, to resolve, to courage, to levity, whatever was asked or needed.

I felt like silly putty in my own hands, free to mold and shape my performance however desired.  And I have no doubt whatsoever that the reason for this is rooted in my meditative practice.  The same awareness cultivated in everyday practice was suddenly and starkly ready to be used on my professional life, as if walls had dropped and seas had parted and all that was left was for me to walk wherever I pleased.  (Yes, I’m fond of mixing metaphors.  I think it’s a wholly underrated art.  Like a science, really.)

So, to the world and life, I say bring your apes.  I’m ready.  Give me your biggest challenges.  My mind gets clearer and stronger every day.  And to my fellow actors I say, meditate, meditate, meditate.  Trust me on this one.

For the Mineralava Musings, as always.

I’m told this has to do with the brain “re-wiring.”  That is, that the brain is being asked to do things it’s not accustomed to and needs to put the threads together differently.  This, evidently, leads to the bubbly sensation.  And as I reflect back on that period it was also the beginning of a creative, artistic and personal growth spurt.  A lot happened in the coming years, I blossomed and grew, and it’s very likely that I was suddenly thinking differently.

Alas, though, somewhere along the way, I got dull, and there was neither hunger nor fizz.  There was, in fact, little feeling at all.  I could have walked through a plate glass window and barely felt the effects.  (Judging from a couple of scars on my my thigh that I cannot account for, I may have done just that.)

But this New Year’s Eve I was suddenly ravenously hungry once again, as I remember being those many years ago.  The hunger has stayed with me for three days without pause.  Every few hours or so I’ve wanted to find the nearest Bacchanalian feast and eat a wild boar while washing it down with a gourd of wine or three.  And along with it has come the fizzing sensation.

I have no idea what’s going on, but I’m convinced it’s the cumulative effect of meditation and so many books challenging my assumptions and ways.  Either way, I’m choosing to think of this new-found hunger as a metaphor.  So… let it be indicative of the year to come.  Let the hunger continue throughout the coming months.  May my body grumble at me continuously, urging me to feed it, with foods, with thoughts, with ideas, with passion, with the knowable and the unknowable, the known and the unknown.

Let the hunger never cease, may my brain always bubble…

For the Mineralava Musings, this is Edoardo Ballerini.

I bear the scars of these experiences.  It is still difficult for me to give gifts, and celebrations feel like the stuff of science fiction.  My meditative practice has helped turn this around.  (Truth be told, my meditative practice has helped turn everything negative in my life around.  I have no idea how or why it works, but it does, and I highly recommend finding a guru or a center as soon as possible.  Consider it a gift to yourself.)

My feelings about the season have not changed all that much.  I still believe it produces great unhappiness and feelings of deep inadequacy in too many people.  And I still fail to understand how turning a page on the calendar should align with activities of the mind, but I’m only certain of my general ignorance so I won’t press the point too hard.

There is an alternative, however, and here is my proposal: Give gifts when you want to, to people you want to, because you want to.  Decide that late May is the most wonderful time of the year and spread joy then.  Donate your time or goods to charity in August.  In other words, practice compassion and generosity when you decide, not when a commercial screams at you that your happiness is available to you if only you’ll purchase something NOW.

I don’t meant to disparage those who enjoy the holidays.  I recognize the magic and power of tradition, and the art of the collective.  That we all shutter our doors at the same time has a distinct value, it’s true.  But perhaps these virtues can be extended throughout the year, when we choose, not when we’re told?

Just a thought…

For the Mineralava Musings, this is Edoardo Ballerini.

I have felt bad about this ever since.

It was, perhaps, the beginning of my practice of mindfulness, as I vowed never to say anything that could cause harm.  And since that time… my words have caused harm many thousands of times, I’m sure.  But the awareness is the practice, and I have learned to catch myself as I stumble, and I know I’m a better man for my consciousness.

Last week I went to a meditation center that I often frequent.  I arrived early for the sitting and sat in the lobby and shut my eyes for a moment.  (The greatest skill I fully possess is the ability to catnap, nearly anywhere, at any time, and this seemed like an opportune moment for a quick snooze.  If there was such a thing as “Right Napping” I would be a Buddha.)  Moments later, I was awoken by a ghastly smell, one that I vaguely recognized.  Sitting across from me was a young woman chomping away at a bag of McDonalds burgers and fries.

My mind leaped from one angry place to another like a grasshopper.  How inconsiderate!  Bringing food here!  And how horrible to bring McDonalds, of all things!  It’s not difficult to guess the societal, ethical and health inclinations of most people here, and suffice it to say that Mickey D’s is antithetical to most of them.

It dawned on me that I’d seen this young woman before.  A week or so prior she had been yammering away about her new cell phone, at full volume for all to hear, despite there being a group meditation taking place in a nearby room, and a talk being given in another.  Her again.  A completely mindless being!  I looked over and studied her face.  She bore down on her food with all the grace of a hyena, with a far away stare, as bits of food fell to the floor or stuck to her lips.  It was revolting, and I left.

Days later I revisited the scene.  Though I didn’t say anything, I wondered about my reaction.  I had rushed to judgment, I leapt to an emotional response, and I allowed something rather trivial to get under my skin.  But suddenly a light went on in my head, and I felt terrible.  What was going on dawned on me.  This woman may have been mentally challenged.  I don’t say this as a joke, but the loud talking, and even the rhythms of her speech as I now recalled them, combined with the sloppy eating and vacant look, pointed firmly towards the possibility.

I stopped in the street as I realized what had transpired.  And a few choice words came ringing through my head.  “Whadya do?  Have your brain replaced?”

Well, no, but I’m working on it.

For the Mineralava Musings, this is Edoardo Ballerini.