A friend tweeted that she was looking to find her life passion. I asked what she meant by that. She said: “I want to be in a constant state of spellbound over sharing the gift I was born to share, whatever that is.”
My reply: You are the gift you were born to share with the world.
That is all.
Here’s Mooji explaining in a very subtle and lovely way what happens when we observe the ego:
I really love, in particular, how he points out that any observation of the ego that is interested (not indifferent) is still the ego.
Eckhart Tolle on the difference between the “real” I and the fake (egoic) “I”:
Everyone’s talking about “the conflict” in Israel and Gaza. Meanwhile, most of us struggle to resolve the largely insignificant conflicts in our everyday lives. I always see what’s going on “out there” in the world as a reflection of what’s going on “in here”. Gaza is a mirror. If we can’t assert compassion, love, acceptance of self and others on a daily basis when the stakes are low, how can we ever expect entire nations to make peace when the stakes are perceived as incredibly high? If we are ever-ready to defend the microscopic terrains of our little egos, why do we marvel and scratch our heads when groups of people feel compelled to defend their land and their dignity, no matter the cost? I’m simply amazed that folks who can’t get along with their in-laws nonetheless feel justified in getting on their ideological soap-box about politics and war.
It’s hard to believe, but I was actually in Israel and the Palestinian territories almost exactly a year ago. I traveled to Jerusalem as part of a research team of sociologists studying stigmatized groups in the U.S. (African Americans), Brazil (Blacks) and Israel (Ethiopian Jews, Arab Israelis and Mizrahis). You can learn more about that on-going project here and here. This was my first trip to the Middle East, a voyage that changed me in ways I’m still processing.
As I reflect on the harrowing news coming in from the region – a familiar and in most ways unsurprising story – I know for sure that there can be no lasting peace in this world unless we all figure out how to make peace in our everyday lives. This is not an abstract or philosophical point. Nothing could be more pragmatic than your commitment to practicing peace. I’m not saying that one must be the Buddha in order to have a political opinion, engage in activism or resist domination or violence. But we have to be just as committed, indeed more committed, to creating peace in our individual lives as we are to bringing about justice and reconciliation. For me, peace-making has been an integral dimension of nondual spirituality. Pre-2012, my life was full of drama. Because I was (unbeknownst to me) entirely identified with my ego and sense of individuality, my overall perspective was quite negative. My greatest source and repository of drama was a dysfunctional romantic relationship that I finally ended after years of deeply unconscious, mutually-traumatic conflict. But there were also many other little pockets of discontent. I was easily offended and often angry. Someone was always getting on my nerves. My shit list was maxed out. I frequently spoke ill of others and had frenemies who enjoyed gossip. It was a pretty awful way to live, but at the time, I didn’t know how things could be otherwise.
Fast forward a year. I’m far from perfect, but the experience of peace in my daily life has gone from “almost never” to “the vast majority of the time”. This does’t meant that I’m constantly singing Kumbaya or that I never get into arguments or fire up with anger. But arguments and strife are fairly rare occurences for me now. And when they do happen, the key difference between then and now is that I see the ego. I sense (and sometimes laugh about) my mind’s urge to be right, the desire to be noticed, admired, the ego’s need to feel superior. In the past, I was so wrapped up in the ego that I did not even understand there it was operating in my life. [See Eckhart Tolle chit-chat about this aspect of the ego here]. I felt totally identified with my thoughts, my emotions and my narrative–the story of “me”. My transformative encounter with God and conscious experience of nonduality has allowed me to identify with the presence, the space, the no-thing-ness within which my existence (and everything else) unfolds. As a result, either in the moment itself, or immediately thereafter, I am able to observe my thoughts and feelings rather than become fully absorbed in them. Not only does this create peace in my life by reducing my stress and lowering the volume of mental noise, but it also spontaneously produces compassion for everyone else as I consciously realize that the boundaries between us are illusory.
Now when someone upsets me, I express whatever feels appropriate in the moment — but I don’t do so with the unmitigated and unapologetic cruelty that I used to feel justified using in the past. An angry, unconscious ego always feels justified. Now, when I feel wounded, I notice the feeling. I know that I am not the feeling. I may hurt and suffer terribly. My ego may feel that I’ve been terribly wronged, disrespected or mistreated. But now I am not automatically driven by the pain or the anger. The reaction is not quite so knee-jerk and automatic. There is greater space, more distance — an observation of what is happening as it happens. When negative thoughts arise about someone, the very awareness of those thoughts also dissolves the self-justification of the ego. When I think of that guy who treated me poorly, the thought might come: “Wow, what a jerk! I hate him.” But as I notice that happening, that very awareness itself serves as a wake-up call. It’s as if the awareness sets off an alarm: “Ding! Ding! Ding! Your Ego’s showing its ass again!” And, as Eckhart Tolle and Mooji and everyone else who knows this truth says: once you see the Ego, it ceases to really be an ego. That is, the Ego only really functions as such by fooling you into thinking you are it. When you see that it is just an illusion (when you experience the truth of this) then it loses its power. I might still tell that guy to never talk to me again, but something in me also asserts compassion and love for him, knowing that he and I are really one – and we’re both just doing our best.
I’ve also been making peace in very small ways. I used to be terrified of all bugs and insects. I would kill them (or, more likely, enlist someone else to kill them) with impunity. It first occured to me that there was something wrong about this when I started attending Buddhist meditation classes. But nothing changed in my experience – nor the experience of the poor unfortunate insects who dared cross my path – until I really began to feel more presence and stillness in my life. I didn’t make a decision to stop killing insects. It just happened. One day I woke up and found I was no longer afraid of them. And if fear did arise, it still didn’t have the kind of hold on me that it used to. Instead of squashing spiders and insects, I save their lives and liberate them, assuming Zora doesn’t hunt them down first.
You can’t make peace if you aren’t at peace. For me, that means cultivating full, total, radical acceptance of my Self. Accepting my Self means letting go of the illusion that I’m the little story, the illusory narrative, that my ego has contrived. In so doing, I generate compassion for myself (the suffering of this imagined ego) and compassion for all living beings. Awareness — conscious attentiveness to the present moment — inevitably leads me to see that we’re all the same. When I hurt, I am reminded of the hurt I have inflicted on others as well as the universal pain we all feel when we forget our own Divinity. What I know now, for sure, is that awareness is a pre-requisite for peace. The first step is always consciousness, whether it’s in the Middle East or the middle of your daily crisis.
Sweet things I did for myself this weekend include..
– Finally trying out the pool at my gym. I’ve been saying I would take a dip for about 9 months, but I was always too intimidated and lazy to really force myself to do it. I’m not a great swimmer, though my back stroke and doggy paddle are on point, so I feared that I would be surrounded by hardcore aquatic pros. A conversation with some ladies in the sauna convinced me to take a walk over to the pool. I started out in the slow lane, trailing a line of septuagenarians before working up the courage to upgrade to medium. Ended up having a fab time and getting an excellent workout. I look forward to doing this more regularly.
– Speaking of working out, I was really proud of implementing my new present-moment approach to the gym. Instead of planning everything out or doing the same ol’ routine (stretching, cardio then more stretching), I decided to go with the flow and just do whatever felt right. After my pre workout stretch, I did upper and lower body strength training, then felt compelled to use the rowing machine, which I haven’t attempted in over a year. Then I did some stretching, light yoga and a session of hydro massage. I followed this up with sauna then that courageous dip in the pool. Fabulous workout.
– Thrifting. Need I say more?
– Cleaning. I really needed to straighten up and organize my laundry room and closets. Mission accomplished.
– An evening at my cigar lounge. I hadn’t been in about a month. I’d go more often, but I have this thing about wanting to smell like ylang ylang and roses and somehow cigar smoke interferes with that.. I like this particular lounge primarily because of the staff and the clientele: most of the guys there are professional, friendly and interesting. We have conversations about the damndest things. Yes, there are Playboy magazines lurking around (though, I’ve never actually seen anyone “reading” them, thank God) and it’s basically a man-cave, but they generally make me feel super welcomed. It’s the kind of place where I can come in, plop down on one of the plush leather sofas, pull out my copy of “The Power of Now”, put “He’s Not That Into You” on one of the flat screen TVs, kick my feet up, chit chat about everything from work to sports to politics – or just be left alone.Tried a Griffen for the first time – wanted something mild and it hit the spot. Enjoyed a glass of Courvoisier and a taste of an amazing Louisiana whiskey – complements of some of the members there – and had great conversations all night.
– Errands. I mailed a package I’ve been procrastinating on for months, changed Zora’s litter, did about 6 loads of laundry, took out the trash, assembled a bag of clothes to donate to the thrift shop, bought groceries, finally packed my summer clothes away in the attic, cleaned my bedroom, and generally made my home a beautiful, comfortable space.
– For my own peace of mind, I finally found a brand of organic cat food Zora likes. She’s been on a bit of a hunger strike and I was starting to lose hope.
– For my spirit: Sunday morning satsang with Mooji. Meditation. Watched some vids by Eckhart Tolle about the ego and presence.
– Cooking! Made a fab dish: basil chicken with broccoli in a white sauce over whole grain pasta.
– Lit a fragrant candle.
– Continued my practice of body awareness and acceptance. Starting to feel increasingly more comfortable in my skin, even though I’ve put on about 3-4 pounds in the past few months. Feeling happy in this body. Enjoying it.
– Pampering: L’Occitane facial mask, self massage with my hands, theracane and a tennis ball, aromatherapy and lounging in my fave baby blue satin robe.
– Getting to bed early. And on that note, I bid you zzzzzzz.
Kind things I did for myself today:
– made a cup of keurig coffee in the morning
– paid a bill
– took out the trash
– cleaned up apartment so things would be neat when I returned home
– styled my hair the way I like it (as I do everyday..)
– conscious breathing and meditation throughout the day
– packed a full day’s worth of nutritious meals and snacks to take to work
– drank several cups of raspberry tea for medicinal purposes instead of coffee while in the office
– paid attention to moments of anxiety and relaxed
– crossed several things off my to do list
– wore a fabulous outfit.. and topped it all off with a very sharp black leather jacket/boots/gloves/attache ensemble
– morning, afternoon and evening aromatherapy with ylang ylang and eucalyptus essential oils
– 20 minutes in the sauna after work
– drank water
– took my supplements
– called my grandmother and my actual mother
– laid out my lovely new Christian Dior robe so it was waiting for me to slip into when I got home
– remembered to affirm acceptance of my body throughout the day
– kept my hands/body moisturized
– spruced up my office
– washed and dried a load of laundry
– made my bed
– organized my remaining blocks of work time for the week
– enjoyed hot chocolate and a delicious brownie after a long day
– self massage
I come home after a very long day of teaching back-to-back classes, followed by mentoring a black women’s student group. My commute is 45 minutes. When I look at the clock, it’s well past 9 pm.
Weary, I make my way up the stairs. My eyelids are heavy. I’m starving – and running on fumes.
And then, to my great delight, I find:
– a clean apartment
– my favorite satin pj’s arranged on my bed, waiting for me to slip into their luxurious embrace
– a gourmet dinner, ready to pop in the microwave: homemade mango sticky brown rice with organic sirloin stirfried with onions, bok choy and garlic in a wickedly decadent teriyaki glaze
– my favorite trashy, mindless Monday TV show (90210) recorded on the DVR, waiting to be played
And now I recline by candlelight, blissed out, nibbling on one of my favorite goodies — milk chocolate studded with almonds. All of this, courtesy of Crystal-of-Sunday-Past.. thoughtful gestures of my prior self to my current self.
There will be a foot massage happening any moment, then some aromatherapy, conscious breathing, a little Mooji and reflection on the day ahead. A good night’s rest and an early morning that will start with meditation, perfectly brewed keurig coffee, a workout session, hydromassage and sauna before heading to the office.
God, I love myself..
Folks, I want to hear from those of you – male, female, transgender, whatever – who share my preference for a childfree lifestyle. I’ve been flirting with the idea of not having kids for the better part of a year. What started as “Hmm, I don’t know about this motherhood thing” has started to settle into “I literally can’t imagine having kids.” With every passing day, my disdain for childbearing grows.
At dinner tonight, I told an entire table full of male colleagues – several of whom were parents – that I did not want children. I won’t bore you with the details of how this even became of subject of discussion, but suffice it to say that before I had time to self-edit, I heard these words flowing from my tongue: “Every time I see someone with children, I feel sorry for them.” That is probably a horrible thing to say, but it’s true.
It would be more accurate to say that I feel sorry for women with children. Not because they aren’t happy — I am sure at least some of them are thrilled to be mothers — but simply because the thought of having children increasingly makes me unhappy.
When men wax poetic about how great it is to be a father, sometimes I quip: “Yeah, if someone would come along and bear my children, and I could swoop in and parent when I feel like it, that would be fantastic” I’m exaggerating here, but the truth is that mothers still bear the brunt of parenting and domestic duties, even when they also have a professional life of their own. The gendered burden of motherhood – for all its joys – is quite unattractive.
Being somewhat solipsistic, I did not realize – and still do not fully realize – that it’s “taboo” to speak of not wanting kids. If it’s a taboo, no one but Google has told me so directly. I have a number of childfree female friends who feel the same way and a few friends who are mothers who tell me I’m right to be circumspect. I don’t have any rose colored glasses when it comes to parenting.
Another contributing – though ironic – factor is my own mother. My mom was – and continues to be – a heroic parent. I owe everything redeeming about me to her wisdom, sacrifice and love: my strong connection to God, my commitment to personal development (though I hate that term, particularly as I no longer principally define myself as a ‘person’ due to my dalliance with non duality) and my intellectual curiosity and self confidence. But it is precisely because I see how hard she worked – how committed she has been – that I have no illusions about parenting. It is difficult, day-in-day-out work. A life sentence, in most cases. And while it surely has its highs and moments of fulfillment, there is also frustration and bitterness and disappointment and fatigue and stress and worry.
I do not feel the need to defend my disdain for parenting, but it does give me some joy to talk about it. I am also genuinely perplexed as to why having children seems like such a “natural” thing for folks to want to do. Setting aside the biological/evolutionary impulse, the sociologist in me marvels at the way most people seem to regard reproduction unreflexively. I do not hear enough people having critical discussions about whether it’s actually a good idea to procreate. There are many, many, many people who should not have children but have them anyway. I do not see that this world needs as many people as are being produced and I do not understand the urge to keep popping out humans to overrun this already overrun and decaying planet. Not to mention all of the children who await adoption. If I ever decide to be a parent, adoption is something I would seriously consider, for the simple fact that biological procreation in the midst of children begging for a home seems wrong, somehow.
I am happy that some people derive happiness from parenting. I suppose someone’s got to do it. But that’s also the great thing about life: since other people are having kids, I don’t need to. The species will propagate even without my genetic contribution.
In speaking with other junior faculty – male and female – it dawned on me that being childfree also reduces my professional vulnerability in all kinds of ways. I have more time to work and be productive, obviously. But I also have more flexibility and control over my career. If I need or want to take a job elsewhere, I have nothing and no one holding me down. I’ve known this abstractly, but it’s only now that I can better understand why I feel so happy and confident in my professional prospects compared to some of my friends and colleagues who feel forced to get tenure at a particular place because they have a family and a mortgage.
Don’t get me wrong: I have my mommy moments. I fall back in love with the idea of reproducing when I am in love. I know if I were in a committed relationship, parenting is something would be a more concrete possibility.
But for now, I absolutely love my freedom. I also appreciate that I can focus my energies on whatever I want: my creative interests, my spiritual practice, my hobbies, my friends, my romantic life. I am also free to channel my compassion and nurturing spirit into a variety of non-parental outlets: teaching and mentoring students, service and activism in the community, being a helping hand and support wherever and whenever I can.
Without children, I am also able to face squarely some of the very difficult problems of existence that most people – parents and otherwise – have to put on the backburner: What is the meaning of this life? Why am I here? What should I do with my time? Who am I? What is my relationship to the rest of creation? What is my relationship to the Creator? What is death? How should I conceive of it? Can I prepare for it? What is the purpose of my work? What are my core values? What is the ego? What is consciousness? Yes, you can tackle this even if you have kids, but you have less time and opportunity to confront these issues when you are changing diapers or helping Charlie with 6th grade algebra.
Unraveling these existential concerns is my full-time job. I can understand why Buddha had to leave his family to figure it out. But Buddha *could* leave his family. His wife could not.
Children generally delight me, but they are no more special than adults. Children are just small people discovering the world. Their newness, cuteness and innocence is endearing, to be sure. But then they do this thing called growing up. And I know it must be fulfilling to see your child develop into a talented, wonderful human being. But, you know it’s also just fantastic to BE a talented, wonderful human being and to help other people develop in that way. Birthing a person is not necessary for that kind of fulfillment
I will admit that I think it’s a bit sad that lots of parents report finding the meaning of life or their purpose in procreation. To me, it’s just as sad as folks who think that their work makes life worth living or whatever. Finding some external person or thing and deluding yourself that this individual, or your social role brings meaning to your existence is unfortunate. If there is a purpose to this life, it is for you to wake up and realize who you really are – beyond your social roles, beyond your identities, beyond your conditioning, beyond your wishes, hopes and dreams. You can do this as a parent or a civilian – but either way, your life is not figured out just because you start a family, or just because you decide not to. The most important thing in your life should not be a social role — as a mother, father, daughter, sister, friend, whatever. The most important thing in your life should consist in being a conduit of love and compassion. Period. And then that love flows through whatever your role is in whatever particular situation you find yourself.
.. is all you need to center yourself in this moment
.. is all it takes to brighten someone’s day
.. is enough time to say, email or text “I love you”
.. is a hug, a warm smile, a touch, a word of encouragement
.. can be a new beginning
.. can change everything
..is the time it took to do the dishes
..is the difference between waking up to a clean kitchen and a dirty kitchen
..is the difference between having a shitty morning and a great morning
#winning
For the first time in perhaps a year, the # of unread emails in my inbox is less than 4,000.
UPDATE:
Now below 3,000!
Aware of Awareness 