VULNERABLE

I am sitting outside as I write this, and the moment is filled with glory. I’m facing tulips that have popped open, bright and colorful, in a patch of freshly tilled earth next to an area readied for planting. Seedlings of lettuce, broccoli, and peppers are growing in small planters on my windowsill. I will plant them outside as soon as the weather is consistently warm and they have sprouted more. Birds are chirping, and our baby magnolia tree is lusciously plump, filled with pink and white blossoms. My husband, David, is alive and well with a new titanium hip and is able to walk. He still has pain from his recent hip surgery, but he is getting better, and I no longer must run up and down our stairs to bring him food and care for him.

         I savor this moment. There is nothing to do or be. I rest in awareness and am content. Mind and body are quiet, and I am grateful for the conditions that have brought this into being. It’s a relief that my husband’s surgery is over and he is recovering. The surgery upset the status quo in our household. Even the dog has modified her behavior and now comes to my side of the bed early in the morning to be taken downstairs to go outside and pee. I like feeling needed, and I am glad I am keeping things running smoothly, but my body is exhibiting the wear and tear of stress. My knees hurt more, my toes are cramping, and I have pain in my shoulders. My stamina has decreased, and I get very tired. I know we are all subject to aging, illness, loss, and death. This awareness usually resides in the back of my mind, and now it is in the forefront. The body reminds me to heed it and acknowledge vulnerability. Change is ever present, and contentment depends on my adaptability and acceptance of this.

I’ve been realizing how much I depend on my husband and how much he has been doing in the house since I’ve taken over many of his chores: meal planning, cooking, grocery shopping, and driving. It’s exhausting. Thank you, David!  There are also a myriad of “little things”, he helps me with, like taking down a plate from a shelf in the kitchen I can no longer reach, or loosening a tight lid so I can open it and keeping track of what needs to be done to maintain our house, and doing it. Henry James writes about reciprocity. One of his quotes is, “It is good to give and to receive.” I hope we are in balance. I appreciate all the help I’ve been getting and the kindness I receive from him and others. It’s humbling to realize how much help I’ve needed.

It’s easy for me to lose my balance and fall, and walking the dog has been challenging for me. I huff and puff as I go up the hill by our house. When I meet our friends, other dog walkers, they too are wonderful, and I appreciate their help. If Maya, our dog, is getting hyper and frantic with excitement, I can’t calm her. Let her go, they urged me. I can let her go because they catch her and hold her steady until I reach her. They are wonderful; I feel protected, and I am learning how to handle her.

Since this has been difficult for me, David and I had gotten a Gentle Leader, a no-pull dog collar. In the past, David walked the dog, and there was no problem. I think he enjoyed Maya’s exuberance and let her pull him and go ahead of him, so he didn’t use it.  He is taller and stronger than I am, so managing her was never an issue. I am less than five feet, not particularly strong, and have trouble with my balance and fear of falling.  I needed to have control so she wouldn’t pull or jerk me about. I put the leader on her, but it wasn’t helping.  A neighbor who has two dogs observed her pulling me and stopped one day to ask if I knew that the Gentle Leader wasn’t attached properly. I didn’t, so he stopped, unhooked it from the dog’s collar, and attached it directly to her leash so it was free to move her head rather than tug at her whole body—and me. It worked! How lovely he noticed, cared, and acted. It was an act of kindness and filled me with appreciation and gratitude. Evan, the neighbor, didn’t have to stop and help me, but he did, and it’s been extremely helpful. I don’t find it easy to admit I need help, but sometimes I do, and I’m finding it's an act of love and connection. I’m just beginning to understand that the giver can feel good about giving, and it’s mutual. I feel grateful as the receiver. We need each other.

 I often wonder whether one needs to suffer to be liberated.  David’s surgery forced me to wake up to vulnerability and how much I rely on him and would miss him if he were gone. I also see how I have become dependent on him, and it’s worth examining. What can I now do that I have not been doing? What no longer needs to be done? What is important? It’s also helped me be more comfortable admitting vulnerability and the meaningfulness of connection.  All of us will be sick, have losses and die. We need each other. How rich.

Meanwhile, I savor the flowers and the glory of nature and give thanks to all givers and receivers. May we all live in love and rest in awareness with ease.

I look forward to the richness of connection with you as we acknowledge the vulnerability and wisdom that comes with aging.

WE WILL MEET THIS THURSDAY,

MAY 1, 2025 at 11:00 AM, EDT

Spring! It’s here. The birds are returning to our yard, and I’ve been able to walk the dog and, like her, stop and sniff around as I gaze at the crocuses and daffodils pushing their way through the earth. My body/mind responds to the increase of light and warmth with increased energy and optimism. I read the news and am dismayed by the darkness of current events. I find it necessary to maintain my center and act from wisdom rather than anger, worry, or fear. I feel a bit like Anne Frank, who still believed in the good of people even during the Holocaust. I feel the pain of immigrants who fear deportation, people losing their jobs, cutbacks to the educational and healthcare systems, and the effects of these cutbacks. I recognize the need for compassion and remember the importance of love and kindness. It helps that I’ve been leading a meditation for the Mindfulness Center at UMass Memorial, focusing on compassion, love, and kindness that meets every Wednesday night. There’s power in sitting as part of a group. Even without words or discussion of ideology, there is a sense of warmth and caring that is open-hearted and inspirational.  It’s part of an online global community. It’s free, and you can join me if you like:

https://us02web.zoom.us/meeting/register/CgmTyIumRHayPIs7dFUVIg#/registration

Being in the latter part of my life has given time a new meaning, and I want to fill it in a way that aligns my values and dreams with my actions. I am semi-retired and have more time, so I decided to take a more active part in my community, enlarge my circle of acquaintances, and have some influence. I volunteered to be on the advisory board for the City Council.  It’s easy to criticize others, but I’ve decided to put my body/mind where my heart lies and go beyond my comfort zone to meet a more diverse set of people. I’m excited. I will be going out into different venues to get people interested in the city and its services and interviewing people for various positions on boards in the community. I was asked what I’d look for in my recommendations and I suggested an open mind…and a commitment to show up and listen to different viewpoints without rushing to judge and carefully evaluate action steps. I considered adding freedom from bias but I realize that we all have biases, including me. I don’t find it easy to listen to a person who disagrees with my views but I am committed to being open and respectful so I take a breath, bring awareness to my reactivity, and try to find an area of commonality that we can both agree upon. I’ll have to let go of the outcome but not hope.

The other day I was talking to a young friend about life choices. He was hoping he could keep everyone in his family happy. I’ve learned through experience that happiness begins with ourselves. I prefer thinking of the ability to live with ease. There are limits to what is possible. I found myself saying, “Life is messy,” and he reminded me I’ve said this before. The Rolling Stones sing, “You can’t always get what you want.” I want everyone to feel good, be healthy, and be at peace. I don’t want there to be war, poverty, greed, or delusion. I don’t like experiencing pain or observing how people can harm each other. I see people I love suffering, and I am limited in what I can do to make things better for them. I can bear witness, be empathetic, and stay centered.  That’s a lot.

I recently attended Soul on Fire, a documentary about Elie Wiesel, a Holocaust survivor and great humanitarian. “Wiesel lived with despair and guilt after surviving the Holocaust. He could not forget the suffering he observed in the camps or his inability to save his father from beatings and death after they walked together and survived the death march from Auschwitz to the Buchenwald concentration camp. Wiesel’s suffering opened his heart and motivated him to bear witness and document the suffering he observed in the hope that it would never be forgotten or happen again. In 1985, Ronald Reagan awarded him the Congressional Gold Medal for his humanitarian work. During the ceremony, Wiesel respectfully and unsuccessfully attempted to persuade Reagan, who was soon to be visiting Kohl, the chancellor of Germany, and asked him to cancel their visit to Bitburg, a military cemetery. Wiesel and the families of Holocaust survivors felt visiting the military cemetery was disrespectful since 49 SS men, the Nazi elite, were buried there along with the other soldiers. Newsmen later asked Wiesel if he thought he could change the president’s mind. Wiesel said no, but he was taught to speak truth to power. He stayed true to his principles, to never be silent if he perceived injustice was being done.  He is also quoted as saying "There are victories of the soul and spirit. Sometimes, even if you lose, you win."

What principles do you hold to be true? How are you living them?

HINDRANCES AND ANTIDOTES
MARCH 6, 2025

Dear Mindful Friend,

 The temperature here in Worcester, MA, has finally gone above freezing after ten days of bitter cold. The snow is beginning to melt and the ice is retreating. Yay.  I started this blog a few days ago to put on paper my cries of anguish, ill will, restlessness, worry, and craving for sensual pleasures, like feeling the warmth of sunlight on my skin rather than a biting wind. In Buddhism, these aversive starts are considered obstacles to liberation and perpetuate suffering. Suffering is part of life, and meditation is supposed to alleviate it. Over the years, I realized that my understanding of liberation was incomplete. I thought that a liberated person was free of negative mind states and I’d be immune from suffering. I wouldn’t feel angry, frustrated, or depressed; instead, I’d face whatever happens with equanimity and be non-reactive, allowing myself to let go of the desire for things to be different than they are. Instead, I’m learning of the energy and courage it takes to apply my mindfulness. The more I desire my negativity to vanish, the harder it is to release it. ‘Resist and they persist’ is a truism. Rumi advises in his poem The Guest House to invite them in …” welcome and entertain them all…and be prepared for a new delight.”  Hmm..

In principle, I agree with the wisdom of this advice. Still, it takes energy, faith and trust that my desire for sunlight and warmth will disappear if I can befriend these feelings with compassion and be curious about their arising rather than self-pitying when I am filled with aversion amid a cold spell while gazing at a grey sky. Practice has helped me decrease self-criticism. I don’t beat myself up like I used to for having negative feelings. I know everything passes, and this as an opportunity for learning, but it’s challenging.

Contemplation of death and impermanence is an antidote to craving more sensual pleasure. Being human, there is suffering. We are all subject to aging, illness, loss, and death. It can not be prevented. It is part of the human condition, and I am not exempt. It doesn’t mean that when a loved one dies or is diagnosed with a life-threatening illness, I won’t be sad or grieve. Meditation doesn’t eliminate pain and sorrow, disappointment or anger, but I do find it helps me bear what comes and learn from it.  I have more practice in hanging in there with myself, my frailties, and my conditioning. Thinking about death, I realize I feel sad that a dear friend has recently been diagnosed with cancer. My husband recently underwent a procedure that necessitated a night in the hospital. Visiting him brought back memories of times I was hospitalized and seeing him vulnerable made me concerned about his health and what the future would bring. He’s fine now, and so am I. Contemplating impermanence and facing death helps me treasure the present. The present moment is precious, and I am grateful that we are both here and together---and I know it will end.

In my early years of teaching Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction I bought a colorful and beautifully crafted magic wand and brought it to class. I waved it about and told the class I wished I could sprinkle them with fairy dust and all their troubles would vanish. We laughed, yet it was my wish and perhaps theirs as well.  I’ve learned that the power to fix things lies within, and if I or we held on too tightly to the wish that something or someone outside of ourselves could magically relieve suffering, we’d all be in trouble and only suffer more.

Thomas Merton, a Trappist monk and mystic, wrote, “We have what we seek, we have it all the time and if we give it time it will make itself known to us. “

It takes time and courage to face ourselves and look within for what we seek. Also patience, trust, hardiness of spirit and perseverance. I find it humbling to realize I can’t prevent bad things from happening. I can examine the causes of suffering and look at what triggers it in myself- conditioning based on past experiences, wants and vulnerabilities. What I consider bad, hard to accept and strongly don’t like is personal. Some people may love winter and see it as an opportunity to ski, play, and have cozy times at home. I do not. I feel a bit like Goldilocks and the Three Bears; I want the weather to be “just right, not too cold or too hot.” I want to walk without walking poles and not worry about slipping on the ice.

Being 81, this is a period in my life when my body and mind noticeably change. Awareness of my negative mental states has reinvigorated my interest in them and their antidotes. I take out books and poems for inspiration, meditate, and I even googled hindrances and antidotes. The summary from AI:

In summary, understanding the nature of these hindrances and applying the appropriate antidotes is essential for anyone seeking to deepen their meditation practice and achieve spiritual growth. Through persistent effort and mindful practice, the obstacles of sensual desire, ill-will, sloth and torpor, restlessness and worry, and doubt can be gradually diminished, leading to a clearer, more focused, and peaceful mind.

I can appreciate the warmth of my house and the safety it provides. I am grateful for all the goodness in my life. I saw a robin this morning and I heard a bird chirping. I let myself regress and ate comfort food from my childhood—and didn’t feel guilty or judgmental. I decided it was OK to indulge and did it very mindfully with restraint. Popcorn is a favorite self-soothing item for me, so I measured out a small amount, put it in the microwave, and listened intently for the end of a popping sound so I didn’t burn the container. In my family food was associated with love -and self-castigation because it was fattening. I decided I wasn’t too fat, cut a slice of a delicious raspberry pistachio croissant, and returned the rest to the freezer. Good for me I thought and proceeded to open the kitchen cupboard and discovered chocolate coins left over from Chanukah, ate two and then one apricot. I knew this really wouldn’t satiate my craving, but I savored it and enjoyed its momentary release.

Sloth, torpor and doubt are other obstacles to awareness. My mind was dull when I was caught in my discontent, and I felt sluggish. I took a breath, examined the position of my body, realized I was slouching, sat upright, put my hand over my heart and felt the heaviness in the center of my chest. I needed energy, so I got up from my chair, took out my computer, and began this blog.

Doubt is the most difficult hindrance to counter.  During the bout of bad weather, it was hard to believe I’d experience a better day. Doubt is debilitating. It erodes self-confidence and blocks innate wisdom. Fortunately, I can’t stand feeling miserable for too long. It motivates me to seek relief. I began meditating because I saw it helped people feel happier, and I wanted to be happier and more at peace. There are causes and conditions even for a feeling of funk. Following Rumi’s advice to welcome what is at my door, I’ve learned to notice the effect of my thoughts and feelings, test their reality, seek wise counsel, and be surrounded by people, places, and things that lift me up and inspire me—like being with you.

Join me on MARCH 6, 2025 11:00 AM-12:00 PM

for our next meeting.

I look forward to being with you. Let’s support each other to examine the unwanted with compassion and a steadiness of spirit, heart, and mind.

 Meeting ID: 810 4110 5987

Passcode: 744390

HINDRANCES AND THEIR ANTIDOTES

REALITY

PRINCIPLES

Spring! It’s here. The birds are returning to our yard, and I’ve been able to walk the dog and, like her, stop and sniff around as I gaze at the crocuses and daffodils pushing their way through the earth. My body/mind responds to the increase of light and warmth with increased energy and optimism. I read the news and am dismayed by the darkness of current events. I find it necessary to maintain my center and act from wisdom rather than anger, worry, or fear. I feel a bit like Anne Frank, who still believed in the good of people even during the Holocaust. I feel the pain of immigrants who fear deportation, people losing their jobs, cutbacks to the educational and healthcare systems, and the effects of these cutbacks. I recognize the need for compassion and remember the importance of love and kindness. It helps that I’ve been leading a meditation for the Mindfulness Center at UMass Memorial, focusing on compassion, love, and kindness that meets every Wednesday night. There’s power in sitting as part of a group. Even without words or discussion of ideology, there is a sense of warmth and caring that is open-hearted and inspirational.  It’s part of an online global community. It’s free, and you can join me if you like:

https://us02web.zoom.us/meeting/register/CgmTyIumRHayPIs7dFUVIg#/registration

Being in the latter part of my life has given time a new meaning, and I want to fill it in a way that aligns my values and dreams with my actions. I am semi-retired and have more time, so I decided to take a more active part in my community, enlarge my circle of acquaintances, and have some influence. I volunteered to be on the advisory board for the City Council.  It’s easy to criticize others, but I’ve decided to put my body/mind where my heart lies and go beyond my comfort zone to meet a more diverse set of people. I’m excited. I will be going out into different venues to get people interested in the city and its services and interviewing people for various positions on boards in the community. I was asked what I’d look for in my recommendations and I suggested an open mind…and a commitment to show up and listen to different viewpoints without rushing to judge and carefully evaluate action steps. I considered adding freedom from bias but I realize that we all have biases, including me. I don’t find it easy to listen to a person who disagrees with my views but I am committed to being open and respectful so I take a breath, bring awareness to my reactivity, and try to find an area of commonality that we can both agree upon. I’ll have to let go of the outcome but not hope.

The other day I was talking to a young friend about life choices. He was hoping he could keep everyone in his family happy. I’ve learned through experience that happiness begins with ourselves. I prefer thinking of the ability to live with ease. There are limits to what is possible. I found myself saying, “Life is messy,” and he reminded me I’ve said this before. The Rolling Stones sing, “You can’t always get what you want.” I want everyone to feel good, be healthy, and be at peace. I don’t want there to be war, poverty, greed, or delusion. I don’t like experiencing pain or observing how people can harm each other. I see people I love suffering, and I am limited in what I can do to make things better for them. I can bear witness, be empathetic, and stay centered.  That’s a lot.

I recently attended Soul on Fire, a documentary about Elie Wiesel, a Holocaust survivor and great humanitarian. “Wiesel lived with despair and guilt after surviving the Holocaust. He could not forget the suffering he observed in the camps or his inability to save his father from beatings and death after they walked together and survived the death march from Auschwitz to the Buchenwald concentration camp. Wiesel’s suffering opened his heart and motivated him to bear witness and document the suffering he observed in the hope that it would never be forgotten or happen again. In 1985, Ronald Reagan awarded him the Congressional Gold Medal for his humanitarian work. During the ceremony, Wiesel respectfully and unsuccessfully attempted to persuade Reagan, who was soon to be visiting Kohl, the chancellor of Germany, and asked him to cancel their visit to Bitburg, a military cemetery. Wiesel and the families of Holocaust survivors felt visiting the military cemetery was disrespectful since 49 SS men, the Nazi elite, were buried there along with the other soldiers. Newsmen later asked Wiesel if he thought he could change the president’s mind. Wiesel said no, but he was taught to speak truth to power. He stayed true to his principles, to never be silent if he perceived injustice was being done.  He is also quoted as saying "There are victories of the soul and spirit. Sometimes, even if you lose, you win."

What principles do you hold to be true? How are you living them?

VULNERABLE

I am sitting outside as I write this, and the moment is filled with glory. I’m facing tulips that have popped open, bright and colorful, in a patch of freshly tilled earth next to an area readied for planting. Seedlings of lettuce, broccoli, and peppers are growing in small planters on my windowsill. I will plant them outside as soon as the weather is consistently warm and they have sprouted more. Birds are chirping, and our baby magnolia tree is lusciously plump, filled with pink and white blossoms. My husband, David, is alive and well with a new titanium hip and is able to walk. He still has pain from his recent hip surgery, but he is getting better, and I no longer must run up and down our stairs to bring him food and care for him.

         I savor this moment. There is nothing to do or be. I rest in awareness and am content. Mind and body are quiet, and I am grateful for the conditions that have brought this into being. It’s a relief that my husband’s surgery is over and he is recovering. The surgery upset the status quo in our household. Even the dog has modified her behavior and now comes to my side of the bed early in the morning to be taken downstairs to go outside and pee. I like feeling needed, and I am glad I am keeping things running smoothly, but my body is exhibiting the wear and tear of stress. My knees hurt more, my toes are cramping, and I have pain in my shoulders. My stamina has decreased, and I get very tired. I know we are all subject to aging, illness, loss, and death. This awareness usually resides in the back of my mind, and now it is in the forefront. The body reminds me to heed it and acknowledge vulnerability. Change is ever present, and contentment depends on my adaptability and acceptance of this.

I’ve been realizing how much I depend on my husband and how much he has been doing in the house since I’ve taken over many of his chores: meal planning, cooking, grocery shopping, and driving. It’s exhausting. Thank you, David!  There are also a myriad of “little things”, he helps me with, like taking down a plate from a shelf in the kitchen I can no longer reach, or loosening a tight lid so I can open it and keeping track of what needs to be done to maintain our house, and doing it. Henry James writes about reciprocity. One of his quotes is, “It is good to give and to receive.” I hope we are in balance. I appreciate all the help I’ve been getting and the kindness I receive from him and others. It’s humbling to realize how much help I’ve needed.

It’s easy for me to lose my balance and fall, and walking the dog has been challenging for me. I huff and puff as I go up the hill by our house. When I meet our friends, other dog walkers, they too are wonderful, and I appreciate their help. If Maya, our dog, is getting hyper and frantic with excitement, I can’t calm her. Let her go, they urged me. I can let her go because they catch her and hold her steady until I reach her. They are wonderful; I feel protected, and I am learning how to handle her.

Since this has been difficult for me, David and I had gotten a Gentle Leader, a no-pull dog collar. In the past, David walked the dog, and there was no problem. I think he enjoyed Maya’s exuberance and let her pull him and go ahead of him, so he didn’t use it.  He is taller and stronger than I am, so managing her was never an issue. I am less than five feet, not particularly strong, and have trouble with my balance and fear of falling.  I needed to have control so she wouldn’t pull or jerk me about. I put the leader on her, but it wasn’t helping.  A neighbor who has two dogs observed her pulling me and stopped one day to ask if I knew that the Gentle Leader wasn’t attached properly. I didn’t, so he stopped, unhooked it from the dog’s collar, and attached it directly to her leash so it was free to move her head rather than tug at her whole body—and me. It worked! How lovely he noticed, cared, and acted. It was an act of kindness and filled me with appreciation and gratitude. Evan, the neighbor, didn’t have to stop and help me, but he did, and it’s been extremely helpful. I don’t find it easy to admit I need help, but sometimes I do, and I’m finding it's an act of love and connection. I’m just beginning to understand that the giver can feel good about giving, and it’s mutual. I feel grateful as the receiver. We need each other.

 I often wonder whether one needs to suffer to be liberated.  David’s surgery forced me to wake up to vulnerability and how much I rely on him and would miss him if he were gone. I also see how I have become dependent on him, and it’s worth examining. What can I now do that I have not been doing? What no longer needs to be done? What is important? It’s also helped me be more comfortable admitting vulnerability and the meaningfulness of connection.  All of us will be sick, have losses and die. We need each other. How rich.

Meanwhile, I savor the flowers and the glory of nature and give thanks to all givers and receivers. May we all live in love and rest in awareness with ease.

I look forward to the richness of connection with you as we acknowledge the vulnerability and wisdom that comes with aging.

WE WILL MEET THIS THURSDAY,

MAY 1, 2025 at 11:00 AM, EDT