Tag Archives: spaciousness

try it, do it

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This is another extract from my mother’s file of inspirational clippings and notes, which I first wrote about in the post keep far away.  She has taken some time to copy the last three paragraphs from a book called The Quest of the Quiet Mind: The Philosophy of Krishnamurti by Stuart Holroyd.  In these final lines, the author is summing up Krishnamurti’s take on meditation.

Earlier parts of the chapter make it clear that K held a very emphatic position on what meditation isn’t – not “the repetition of a word, nor the experience of a vision, nor the cultivation of silence … not wrapping yourself in a pattern of thought, in the enchantment of pleasures.” He would have added that it is not prayer – which is rooted in the illusion of separateness, and it is not a way or a path to anything – certainly not to freedom, for freedom is the precondition of meditation.

– – –

http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Flame_from_a_Burning_Candle.JPG

The basis of meditation, then, is watchfulness, both of the objective and the subjective worlds. It is ‘seeing, watching, listening, without word, without comment, without opinion – attentive to the movement of life in all its relationships throughout the day.’ It is the continual emptying of the mind of thought and experience, allowing the stream of consciousness to flow freely without thought seizing on any of its elements; it is living and dying from moment to moment.

Another paradox about it is that although it is not a thing you can deliberately set out to do, it nevertheless demands hard work and ‘the highest form of discipline – not conformity, not imitation, not obedience, but a discipline which comes through constant awareness, not only of the things about you outwardly, but also inwardly.  Just watch and be aware of all your thoughts, feelings and reactions, without judging, comparing, approving, condemning or evaluating them in any way, Krishnamurti says. Try it, do it, he urges, and you will find that there is a tremendous release of energy, there is the opening of the door into spaciousness, there is the awakening of bliss.

In a telling image he likens the bliss of meditation to a pure flame, and thought to the smoke from a fire which brings tears to the eyes and blurs perception.  In meditation the mind penetrates and understands the entire structure of the self and the world that thought has put together, and the very act of seeing and understanding the structure confers freedom from it, for mediation ‘destroys everything, nothing whatsoever is left, and in this vast, unfathomable emptiness there is creation and love.’

– Stuart Holroyd, The Quest of the Quiet Mind: The Philosophy of Krishnamurti

Find a comprehensive selection of Krishnamurti’s books at the Krishnamurti Foundation Trust website.

Image source

keep far away
words from my treasured teacher

what is this?

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Since I began blogging a decade ago I’ve probably posted close to a thousand glimpses of the texture of my days in poetry and prose.

But I’d never looked back down my lifeline to track the trajectory from tiny-hood to crone-hood. There were revelations galore as I began to connect the dots of the decades, but one stands out because it threw my seemingly crazy life into exquisite focus. It was the recognition that pretty much everything I’ve experienced was (and still is) driven by just one little question.

It took Shanti Einolander to coax the story out of my brain and into words that would be included in her stunning online publication: ONE The Magazine. Parts of the article are posted below, along with the sub-headings. I know – it’s a teaser, but I do hope you’ll go over to the magazine and subscribe to read it all, and feast on the priceless array of inspiring writing, poetry and art you’ll find there.

– – –

Bubble Chamber

what is this?

so blatantly in my face
yet unable to be seen?

closer than my breath
yet unable to be reached?

shining through the mind
yet unable to be known?

~

It’s taken me a lifetime to understand that my personal motivation on the spiritual journey was a bit unusual.  I wasn’t looking for an antidote to suffering – not at the outset anyway.  I wasn’t trying to escape anything.  I didn’t feel incomplete.  I was a happy if ingenuous kind of person.

But in the lottery of life I was over-endowed with innate curiosity.  As a child I was a question mark on small feet – and I assumed everyone else was, as well.  In fact, my childhood assumption was that the content of all human brains was identical to my own.  I still remember the shock (I was about ten years old) of realizing that I was definitely ‘different’ from my brothers and school friends.  That was my tardy moment of individuation, the drop-kick into separation.  The birth of dear wee Queen Me.

I was also born with the ‘wonder’ switch turned on – the one that makes you wide-eyed with wonderment at the miracles of life.  (Later I came to understand curiosity and wonderment to be a natural pair.)  It seemed to me that the greatest wonder was that life happened at all.  How come it was so blithely taken for granted?  How come no one seemed to pay heed to this miracle?  How come it was never in the news except when it arrived as a newborn or departed someone’s body at death?

Miraculous: supernatural; surprising:
L miraculum from mirari: wonder; F mirus: wonderful
– Oxford Concise Dictionary

Looking back, it seems my journey has been about penetrating the nature of this “miraculousness” and the odd way its presence seems to cause me to disappear.  An important part of that journey has been my passion for making things.  From early childhood I loved making things because it was during playful immersion in creativity that the miraculous would often manifest.  (The word “art” didn’t come into it until much later, when there was an artist self up and running; I would notice that the miraculousness would only come to play in her absence.  But that’s another story.) […]

a kid with no head

In retrospect I realize that as a youngster there was no question as to what ‘I’ was.  It was unbounded spacious knowing.  I wouldn’t have had access to that vocabulary, but I do remember the sense of headlessness and the absence of solid boundaries to my body.  (This caused a few ownership problems with my brothers!)  Even after the arrival of individuation this experience remained constant – although preoccupation with the stories that were accreting around my teenage self slowly began to dominate my attention, heralding the beginning of The Great Forgetting. […]

finding my tribe

the free-fall

hacking the great hoodwink

the alchemy of emptying

ONE The Magazine: What is This?

Boundless gratitude to Shanti for the opportunity to reflect on my life from this perspective
and for the honour of being a contributor to ONE

coming out : ‘fessing up

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sitting, this early autumn dawn…
already the tropical heat steams:
low clouds are resting on the mango tops
and on my head, thick after an airless night

sitting, greeting, bowing to
each whining thought’s futility
in the presence of this
impartial
immensity

this me-matrix,
this emelle-character,
has been tossed too far
off the mainstream GPS
by whatever brought her here
to expect acceptance
by the old herd

sometimes, though, there’s a glance
back, over the shoulder
and a sigh sighs – it wants
the best of both worlds:
understanding and encouragement from the old
friends, the frayed remnant of family
as well as this wild unchoreographed dance
with the unknown

but it’s a no-brainer and anyway
back-tracking isn’t an option

a great sentient silence wraps itself
around this spaciousness
and there’s just this
total fulfillment
smiling, smiling

emelle loves this fail-safe Lover
with her life

 

there:

it’s outed

 

emelle = ml = miriam louisa

like the blue sky on a summer day

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We have never been an individual body containing a personal consciousness. We have never been limited by physical skin, nor have we ever been located inside a solid body separate from an outside world. This is never our actual experience, although it may feel that way.

That in us, which experiences and shapes itself as thoughts, perceptions and sensations, is universal, impersonal and undivided. It is without limits and without a center. It is like the blue sky on a summer day, pure and open. From it, and within it thoughts, perceptions and sensations, like clouds, appear unfold and dissolve naturally.

The direct experience which we name body is fluid and alive, sometimes present, sometimes not. It does not refer back to a memory body, a habitual body or an image body.

The yoga of non-duality invites us to feel ourselves as the vast blue sky: open and welcoming. We listen to our bodily experience directly, without interpretation and without a goal. Within this simple and innocent openness, misidentifications with bodily sensations and feelings of being located inside a solid body dissolve naturally simply by being seen directly with and in the light of their own true nature.

In time, the body is knowingly experienced as a flow of amorphous sensation expanding and free floating in a quality of spaciousness. And as we live in this direct experience of the body as sensation, we feel and understand that it and the space all around are made of the very same reality.

~ Ellen Emmet

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Visit Ellen’s website for more information about her work. She teaches Yoga and Movement, and offers Non Dual Therapy. UK residents are surely blessed to have access to her wideawake wisdom.

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mind the gap!

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If you’ve ever traveled the London Underground you’ll be au fait with this warning. It’s painted on the platform exactly where the the doors of the train will open. It’s delivered over the intercom at every stop to alert passengers to be mindful when stepping off the train. You hear it so often you stop hearing it.

The reminder to “mind the gap” is one of those inadvertent gifts delivered by mundane daily life and language; it’s meditation’s best friend.

Minding the gap as I step off one train of thought and onto another, ‘I’ floats as spaciousness. The gap between thoughts is the closest thing to God I can think of – but to think at all, I’ve got to be back on the train!

Who’d have thought the London Underground would be such a kind teacher?

The gap is R&R for the brain. The gap is succulent silence and the flowering of pure Aware-ing. The gap is my version of Graceland. It’s where the Beloved lives.

Mind the gap?

You bet.

– miriam louisa

image source – http://www.guardian.co.uk/

it’s closer than a heart-beat

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the profound peace that flows
into the space left vacant by the dissolving of the ‘doer’
is the very peace so long sought by that doer

it’s a cool drink of pure water
on a stifling summer’s day
it’s a down doona on a chilly night

it’s the quiet rapture of immeasurable relaxation

it passes all understanding

and it’s closer than a heart-beat

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~ miriam louisa
echoes from emptiness

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what is it with steps and falling?

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An old friend dropped this question into a recent email. It took me a while to understand where she was ‘coming from’ – it’s been a long while since analyzing events for their ‘deeper’ meaning has interested me. But I still love a good question, so I took a look.

I now understand that how a question is answered depends on where it’s flying in from. If I am zipped into my bodysuit – busy being a body – steps are solid forms to be negotiated in space and time. Falling happens when space and time are out of sync. Falling hurts; body might be crippled or disfigured. It’s an experience to be avoided: fear is body’s brand.

If I’m aloft in the thought-propelled balloon called mind, a fall down steps will trigger endless analysis of what it really means, what I need to know that I’m not looking at, what I need to avoid, what I must fix, change, rewrite about the story of “my life.” It will keep me very busy, very anxious, and very stressed out.

If I am neither body nor mind, but the spacious aware-ing that they and all their activities arise within – energy is simply dancing. It appears to take a tumble. It appears to be painful. It has no owner; it wears no name. Since there is no division possible in spaciousness, denial isn’t an option – nor is acceptance! Awareness knows itself intimately. And it knows exactly what’s needed for healing: rest and relaxation.

What is it with steps and falling? It’s a gift. It’s pure grace. The blessing of injury is that it delivers you, helpless and humbled, back to base: relaxation as Life, as the pure Light of awake, aware Livingness.

Gratitude!

~ miriam louisa