Friday, July 18, 2014

Do Meditators ever feel "Stress"?

Living among meditators in the Ananda Communities (both residential and virtual), we are a little like Christian scientists: the "S" word is verboten! "Who me? Stressed out? Never!"

So much is said and scientifically proven about how meditation brings relief to overburdened and stressed-out people, that meditation teachers and long-term committed practitioners are inclined to ignore or even deny stress.

It's also true that we DO in FACT handle stress with greater ease and, even more to the point, committed meditators are, by definition, likely to be committed to lives of selflessness, self-offering, self-sacrifice and creative, engaged service. As part of the Ananda worldwide network of communities, meditation and yoga centers, schools and much more, our ethos is precisely one of spiritual growth through joyful, creative service.

In holding, therefore, high ideals that include serious commitment to meditation (both in time and in depth and devotion) as well as engaged, cooperative and creative service, one is naturally living outside one's comfort zone. Most Ananda members who are employed in various occupations and services are engaged in activities for which we had no formal training or prior experience. We are generally working in industries and workplace environments that are unfamiliar to us. Some of our teachers and others are frequently travelling.

Such a high energy lifestyle naturally produces clinical stress. Like the "Peter principle" in which each person is said to rise to his own level of incompetence, those with high ideals stretch themselves to the boundary of comfort and stress. Our spiritual practices and values provide tremendous energy, grace, and creativity (in accordance with our efforts), but spiritual growth necessarily, indeed, by definition, is designed to smash the boundaries and self-imposed limitations of the ego and sub-conscious (our past).

Consider, therefore, that metaphysically speaking, we yogis are striving to "unite with the Infinite!" That's a tall order, to say the least. Is it stressful? Not by definition, of course, but to the extend our sincere and committed efforts include a sense of "doer-ship" then, yes, there will be the likelihood of stress symptoms. The challenges of our intention and efforts are a necessary and integral part of what can help demolish the ego-principle in favor of a flow of divine power and grace. (Easier stated than achieved, however.)

Therefore, symptoms of stress, especially upon the body, are by no means uncommon among true spiritual seekers. Ananda's founder, Swami Kriyananda, lived past his mid-eighties and never stopped writing, lecturing, travelling, counseling and meditating. In his later years, his body was wracked with the results of offering it ("Brother Donkey," to quote St. Francis) on the altar of service and devotion. It showed, in short, all the symptoms of clinical "stress." But, and here's the difference, he was so much in bliss that there were times he could hardly function.

Some people believe or might argue that a true seeker should always be in balance, joyful, happy, contented, and at peace. Well, then, I see you haven't really tried to "find God!" Not only does God not clear our path to Him of any brambles, but sometimes it feels like He is throwing rocks at us. We call these rocks "divine tests" and we (aren't we?) thankful for them!

In fact, however, as one advances spiritually it is true that INWARDLY, in the midst of the "crash of breaking worlds," a true yogi (devotee) can remain centered, calm and at peace. But it is unrealistic to expect that this is always going to evident on the surface of the body and to the sight of the casual observer. One who is in samadhi may sometimes resemble, outwardly, one who is asleep, but the difference is more than "night and day."

Perhaps one way to view this issue is to note how quickly you recover from stresses. Even spiritually advanced souls might have bouts of irritation, anger or temptation. But a fleeting thought or desire is a far cry from falling, however temporarily, into delusion and committing some serious act that is "adharmic." Having a rough day, but recovering one's peace and inner joy level by the end of it is a good thing. It's relative to one's own path and journey. We can't be measuring ourselves everyday. Like a child with his height marked on the wall by his parents, you can only do that every six







Monday, July 7, 2014

Go On Alone or "I'm with you"? Nishkam Karma!

A defining moment in my life took place on a jet airplane somewhere over Iran in June of 1976. I had travelled Europe and India for over a year by car and was returning at last to the United States. I was broke in more ways than one. Not defeated; nor sad, mind you, but perplexed over the simple fact that I did not find what I was seeking.

Oh, yes, it was an adventure, all right--driving from Germany through Yugoslavia, Greece, Turkey, Iran, Afghanistan and then to the Indian subcontinent: down one side of India by car and up the other, with extended stays here and there, including Sri Lanka and Nepal, just to mention two.

But it was also a spiritual quest and in this I returned empty handed: like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz and with her little dog, Toto. Not only was I not in "Kansas" anymore but I learned, as she did from the Wizard, that all I was seeking was to be found at home. "What you don't bother to seek within, you will not find without," said Swami Sri Yukteswar (in "Autobiography of a Yogi," by Paramhansa Yogananda). Or, as Mark Twain ruefully put it.....travel is a fool's paradise....wherever I went that fellow Mark Twain had to come, too (I couldn't get rid of him and his foibles).

But in the middle of the night at 30,000 feet, stretched out over several seats (in the old days when that actually could happen), I realized that what I sought I had not found on my own. There came to me by way of intuition (and not so much in words), the recognition and acceptance that my spiritual search needed to be in association with others of like mind. I realized too that I had been resisting this important reality.

It was not long after returning to my childhood home in Monterey, CA that I met my future wife, Padma. She introduced me to "Autobiography of a Yogi" and then to Ananda Village (and Swami Kriyananda). We soon moved there and the rest, as they say, "is history."

I have long thought that this revelation was done with me; I had received it, acted upon it, and life went on. But recently I have had to face the reality that this "chicken" (to quote my prior blog on being over 60 years old) had returned to the roost. It came in the form of a gift: a gift from my adult children in the form of a Vedic astrology reading! In this reading (by John "Drupada" MacDonald), I was told that, unlike my western astrology chart had told me, I was influenced by the sign Scorpio and by that of Virgo.

I have no interest in explaining these astrological terms (since it would only show my profound ignorance) but I will say that my decades long assumption that I reflected more the balanced and loving and outgoing aspects of Libra (sun sign) went up in smoke.

Ironically, the first thing I said to Drupada on our video chat (where he was to reveal to me the interpretation of my Vedic chart), was that "I had come out of my cave to speak with him." I don't know why I said those words, for I had never used them before to describe the small home office space I inhabit, but I did. He laughed and used my words to reveal my "scorpio" (hiding like a scorpion under a rock before emerging to sting someone) tendencies.

Further irony is that he says my chart indicates an upcoming period of greater public visibility while personally I feel just the opposite. Whether cave or rock, that's where I feel most comfortable at this point in my life.

I recall that as a young child I played long hours on my own. I'd play out in the sand, dirt, lawn, and gravel creating a pretend world of cars and trucks. My mother said I asked all the "big" questions which she claims she was at a loss to answer.

All my adult life I have had a consistent tendency to prefer working on my own, not wanting to involve or "bother" other people. At the same time I've realized that I (like everyone else) am largely incapable of accomplishing anything other than the trivial on my own.

Moving away from the uncomfortable subject of "me," I want to say that we humans and we as souls are not only social but we are part of the fabric of a greater consciousness and can never, never function on our own except in meaningless ways. The greatest artists, scientists, humanitarians and saints all were nurtured in a milieu that supported their unique genius.

Yet, at the same time, spiritually speaking, we face our "God" alone, just we must face death alone, no matter those who may surround us. Only we, alone and facing the seeming emptiness and darkness which lies beyond the realm of the body and the outer world, can confront the void and the infinite bliss which is God and which is our soul's true nature.

What an irony! In the world of action, which includes therefore, karma and our efforts to work out our karma and fulfill our soul's dharma to achieve freedom, we must work with other souls; other realities than our own ego. As an ego we are less than insignificant. As a soul, we are God incarnate, a spark of the Infinite flame. To the degree we live and act in attunement with the greater reality of Life which could be called God, we discover meaning and achieve fulfillment.

Our oneness with life confronts our existential aloneness in seeking God. These two realities are but sides of the same coin of the one reality. The ego must die so that the soul, which is eternal, can be reborn. The bridge might be called "nishkam karma." Nishkam karma is the way of action which leads to "inaction" (meaning: loss of personal doership, loss of ego).

We are enjoined by Krishna in the Bhagavad Gita, and by great scriptures and saints everywhere, to "act without thought of self-interest." To fulfill our God-given duties as best we can, calmly, joyfully, with excellence and yet, without attachment to the consequences: this is nishkam karma.  In this action I act without thought of what I get in return, whether money, recognition, self-satisfaction....any thought of "what I want." Whether we withdraw or engage, either can be nishkam karma or just plain karma, it depends upon intention and consciousness.

I may feel like withdrawing from the field of battle but, like Arjuna in the beloved Gita, I must "bear arms" and continue the good fight, serving the Light, working out my karma and fulfilling my divine dharma to "know, love, and serve God" in this world (quote from the Catholic Baltimore Catechism). There is not necessarily, however, any contradiction in reconciling the dharma, if it is such, to be more public with the dharma, felt inwardly, to be more in the Self. This is, at least, as I view it. Indeed as my teacher, Swami Kriyananda, used to say, "Reality is both-and."

"When this "I" shall die, then shall "I" know "Who am I""  "Thy will, Lord, not my will."

Blessings,

Nayaswami Hriman

Wednesday, June 25, 2014

60 and above: what next?

When I was 17 years old (1967) I tried imagining being 35 years old but it seemed so far away and so, "like," old, that I simply gave up--I couldn't relate to it. I wasn't even sure I'd live that long.....Sigh.............

In one's first half or so of life, when life seems still an open book with great hopes and promises and anything seems possible, our perspective and self-image is but an unwritten book. But in the later decades of life, we have enough life experience to gain a broader perspective on who we are, what we've gained, what we need to work on, and what's important to us.

I was chatting with a close friend who's about my age (you’ll have to guess), and we asked ourselves: “So, what’s different now? What’s this being 60 + really all about?”

I've noticed that usually the response to such questions revolve around the various things that we can't do as well, or at all, anymore, or, at least with as much stamina or endurance. And, yes, I admit, that there are times when a person's name or that just perfect word I know is right there ("on the tip of my tongue") eludes me when I need it. And sure, we joke about stuff like aches and pains and naps, going to bed early, eating a little earlier than before (catch the "Early Bird Special"?), needing more time to get out of the house in the morning and on and on.

But there's no lack of pluses to this stage of life. For example: I like the fact that I've lost a lot of commitment to personal dramas: mine, and yours! I find I can sympathize more sincerely because I feel less attached, whether to yours or mine! And by this point in life, one has seen many things by this point in life, whether yours or mine (they have begun to look suspiciously similar). Taking me seriously just doesn't "occupy me" quite the way it used to.

And you know what else is good? In many ways I am more productive and efficient than I ever was: and in fewer hours as well. Without the reduction of the internal friction that comes from my preoccupation with my likes and dislikes, my concern for doing a good job, pleasing other people and all of that "me" stuff that gets in the way of just doing the task at hand, I can plow through and get a lot more done. I find inspiration and ideas come more easily and, in the moment, I can be freer, kinder and more spontaneous than ever before.

As a life long devotee and meditator, I know that the truth, relative or absolute or whatever that is, is between me and my God (my guru, my conscience, my sense of right feeling). I am comfortable in this space which has already left at least some of the body and ego behind and below. I rejoice to see a flower, a white cloud and blue sky. Too hot? Too cold? Well, never mind, I'm still the same and I've been hot or cold many times before.

I don't bemoan what, if anything, I've lost; I rejoice in the wisdom I've earned and received, especially through my teachers (and there are many) and with the grace of God and gurus. Yes, I feel the pain of so much of the suffering and tragedy of this world but I've reconciled to the fact that, realistically and beyond my kind and prayerful thoughts and an occasional small contribution, there's nothing I can do about it. I recycle, too, but I know my recycling won't change the world very much. If I do something not kosher-green, well, I can say, "Sorry 'bout that, but look at the other good-green things I do. Besides, I LIKE trees."

I have found new priorities in my life, viz., my own consciousness. Whether I am efficient, proficient, liked or disliked, my highest priority is to remain centered, mindful, and living in the presence of God as peace, wisdom, calm joy and expanded self-awareness. I don't expect to have great visions but I am open to the possibility that my meditations could become ever deeper and that the miracle of life, which is God, will ever expand as the focus of my awareness and self-identity.

It has been well said by others that this time of life is characterized by self-acceptance. Self-acceptance is the first step in acceptance of others, and of the circumstances of one's life. That's a good thing because the "hope-springs-eternal" attitude which characterizes early and midlife has evaporated as the horizon line of the end of life appears in the not too far distance. I have to live in the present because the only choice is to live in the past and that's rather boring. (Ok, so I could live in a fantasy world of my own imagination, too, I suppose.....and many people escape to TV shows, novels, and imagination.)

Self-Acceptance can go in two basic directions: going downward, it can be a slouching acceptance of my narrowing scope of abilities, strength, mental power, or interests. This direction is like sliding towards laziness, self-indulgence, senility, and, of course, finally, oblivion.

The upward path of Self-acceptance includes the wisdom to know what is important in my life and what things are mine to do and what things are best left to others. It also means working "smarter" not "harder." Despite whatever mental challenges might appear owing strictly to age, I am more focused now than I have ever been in life. I am so focused in what I am doing or in simply being inward that I generally don't listen to or hear others who are talking around me. (If you want to talk to me, I suggest you start by saying my name first, then standing in front of me so I can see your eyes and then say what you have to say simply and clearly! I find it easy to tune out gossip, idle chatter, negativity or anything that isn't mine to deal with! More and more I prioritize the important things (like writing these thoughts?)! For many of us, this acceptance phase offers me the opportunity to step back and mentor, train, or let others step up.

I admit, however, that self-acceptance has also allowed me to indulge in "not suffering fools gladly," meaning people who waste my time or who don't listen. I think this is right to do sometimes and probably not a good thing other times. I am more likely to either say little or say directly what I think, with far little chatter in between.

Acceptance can mean realizing that it is the time of life to focus on deeper questions, issues, needs and priorities. The realization comes, appropriate to this life cycle, that I have (hopefully, presumably) fulfilled my material and familial obligations and I can now turn to more “internal affairs.” This means focusing on activities, people, introspection, or service to others that are not necessarily income producing, self-supporting, career enhancing, or socially obligatory.

My friend and I acknowledged that at this time of life, “the chickens come home to roost.” By this we meant that if during one’s mid-life of busy activities, raising children, or fulfilling social obligations, one put aside or even suppressed other longings, desires, needs, talents, or fantasies, they now rise up like ghosts of Christmas past or demons from the netherworld to haunt us with their unfulfilled, repressed, or otherwise unmet energies. These chickens can also be the accumulated physical or mental effects of a life of stress, anger, nervousness, jealousy, over-indulgence, or, better yet, the beneficent effects of a life well led. These chickens lay eggs, so to speak and we are their beneficiaries, whether of the eggs are golden or rotten.

Thus, it is time for closure, friends! Time to wrap up the day’s work, clean and put away your tools, fill out your time sheet and expense report and submit your accounting to the mystic judge of your own conscience, personality and body (wherein are lodged the fruits of your lifelong labors). And while most of us have many years left of active service, nonetheless, there is a shift of priorities and perspective.

This is a time to share one’s wisdom and skills and to share one's story. My parents generation viewed retirement as pay-back and sitting on the porch. (Well, actually mine didn't but many of their generation did.) But in today’s culture, this stage of life is vibrant and active. It has, instead, become a time for pursuing interests such as art, education in new and interesting arenas, educational or humanitarian travel or service, introspection, yoga, meditation, and other forms of spiritual seeking and service.

As the body ages and one’s faculties lose some of their staying power, it is a signal to become more inward, more self-aware, more conscious in one’s thoughts and activities. Yes, it’s time to get our spiritual house in order. A preparation for death? Well, yes, of course: death is, after all, the final exam of life.

That fact need be neither morbid nor compelling. One's duties are coming to a close and it is time to reflect, to draw the lessons of wisdom, or, in the case of those chickens, to confront some unfinished or leftover business.

We who are yogis see this time as an opportunity to meditate more and to be guided more from within (than from external karma or dharmic influences). Being thereby more centered (or at least less influenced or pressured by externals), we can see who we really are freed from outer exigencies.

In India this third stage of life (called vanaprastha) is described as being a hermit. I can't comment knowledgeably on Hindu traditions but to me it is only "hermit" in the sense that it is introspective, self-aware, and reflective. The purpose of such pursuits is, ultimately, to change from within and to bring to closure to the lessons of this lifetime. (The fourth "ashram" is sannyas - complete outer renunciation and breaking of all community and familial ties----even more extreme but certainly more obviously a "hermit" stage.)

There is freedom and release that can be associated with this stage of life. The symbol of the grandparent is one who is no longer strictly identified with what he does and is more known for who he (she) is. From doing to being, so to speak. Think of the smiling grandparent beaming his or her love to the grandchildren, to neighbors, or to shopkeepers---now freed from having to play any specific role or accomplish any specific task.

If one has lived rightly the chickens who come home bring the golden eggs of inner peace, contentment, joy, forgiveness and, yes, flexibility (the willingness to step out and do new things and become one’s true Self!).
That’s worth living for.

Blessings,

Grandfather Hriman