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Insights Earth Time
Pema Chodron The earth is in trouble. The news is rife with reports about natural disasters caused by man-made activities, causing many of us to fear. But is the earth really in danger, or are we in danger of extinction? I will live a finite number of years, and mass extinction of the human race doesn’t really ring true to me. How would it affect me anyway? I may live only another 40 or 50 years if I’m lucky. Will I care what I’ve left behind? Well, my grandchildren will have children, and I think I’d care about them, their children, and their grandchildren. Since I see the cycle of life continue, I may not want to see it end because of thoughtless decisions fueled by the greedy. I may not want breathable air to end due to smokestacks spewing waste. I may not want to see the oceans stagnate due to dumping of raw waste and sewage. I may not want to see the growth of dead places and deserts due to over farming and over extraction of the earth’s resources. I live in a suburb of San Bernardino, and recently I made a trip to the mountains. Up in those mountains, the earth seems oblivious to our activities in the city. The earth seems ignorant of our mass assault upon it. I hear nothing of the city and see nothing of its activities as I observe the bees pollinating wild flowers. I hear birds calling. I see lizards and snakes darting out of my path. Amidst all of that I am humbled when I realize, that on the larger scale of Mother Earth, I am insignificant. Earth time runs in measures of thousands if not hundreds of thousands of years. My existence is barely a blip on the screen of earth time measured in eons. So I essentially am nothing, and yet in the moment that I exist, I am everything. We’ve seen forests burn down and animals flee from their burning habitat only to return a few months later, slowly at first. In those mountains, having seen the evidence of last year’s fires, I was quite awestruck by how quickly things have grown back. When I entered a small town store to buy some groceries, the clerk told me the story of a bald eagle family that appeared after many years of absence. This was in the small city of Julian, San Diego County, Cleveland Mountain area. As I walked down the streets of downtown Julian, famous for its apple pies, I found myself praying that we don’t destroy this, that we keep at least this much. It was so beautiful. Maybe, just maybe if we do harm ourselves to extinction, the earth will have a way of resurrecting new life. Maybe even old friends will return, like the honey bees and other earth creatures we’ve diminished due to our activities. We’ve often heard that the moment is now. The most important is now. While we are here, let’s make the most of it. Let’s not forget to clean up our mess and take out the trash. Let’s not forget to leave something for the ones that we’ll leave behind. |
Category: Insights
Insights is a column written by Lisa Trimarchi
Choosing Peace
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Choosing Peace
But don’t we all suffer from the plague of war? And if we allow ourselves to think about what is happening to some of our fellow human beings, don’t we feel like we have to do something? I do. I want a personal meeting with God and ask Him why there is no intervention. Where is the earthquake to swallow up the war machine? Where is the tornado to end the various holocausts being waged against the Palestinians and Iraqis? I’m sorry, God, but where are you? And then I begin to think that maybe we humans are gods, like those on Mount Olympus wreaking havoc upon the world to declare our superiority over the earth while destroying everything and everyone in our path. After all, the earth is limited in its supply and in what it can sustain. Do we really believe we will live forever? How can we if we continue to waste each other and the planet? Over one million Iraqi civilians have died. Over three thousand troops have died since the beginning of the war. That offends me. That tears me up inside. Why is it O.K.? Tell me, who is being liberated? I believe that I can share my planet with others. I believe that I do not have to hoard everything for myself. I have enough. I thought about the war and how it seems to be a war over resources, because nothing else makes sense to me. It’s O.K. to kill people because we need to maintain authority in that region. It is no longer a war of liberation; it stopped being that years ago. I know. You want me to change the station, right? O.K., who won on American Idol last night? I have no clue. How about on Project Runway, my favorite show? But now I don’t know because I refuse to be distracted while the indigenous peoples of the earth are suffering en masse in holocaust-type conditions. I refuse to watch my favorite show. What can I do if God won’t reveal Himself! What can I do to stop the “madness?” Nothing! So like all others who happen to linger too long on the wrong radio station, I will hurry up and change to music I love, to anesthetize myself and shield myself from feeling even a hint of the mass grief of the abused peoples of the world. I will not allow myself to feel despair. But I can no longer sit with my eyes closed. I must see what we are doing and the crimes we are committing. Then I must take action. What can I do? Plant a garden, ride my bicycle, depend less and less on oil, use recycled goods, write to the President, my congressman, march for peace. I will not grease that squeaky wheel. I will ride my loud and squeaky protest against the well-oiled machine of war and outrageous assault against the earth. And I say to gods and goddesses alike… Amen. By Lisa Trimarchi |
One Day at a Time
Insights
One Day at a Time
One Day at a Time
You can’t grasp time
And times you can,
are never time itself
Why configure time you cannot grasp?
-Verses from the Center, Stephen Batchelor
Christmas is the season where we’re under the gun to get things done quickly, and as the Target commercial so eloquently and beautifully sings, “Counting down, counting down.” In other words, hurry up! Buy those presents, shop, shop, shop. Don’t miss that deadline of Christmas Day.
Christmas comes and goes year after year, and to me, there have been many a day suspended in time. Like Christmas Day the year I was six. I received my Easy Bake Oven and roller skates. Everyone on our street received a pair of white Roller Derby Roller Skates, and we skated all Christmas Day almost until the sun went down. None of us lost a wheel, and that Christmas is forever emblazoned in my mind. Slow down, and take it all in. One moment is here, and then in the blink of an eye it is gone.
I am a busy person these days. I work a full time job, sing in a band and with an opera group, and I also tutor students in math. I believe every moment has its place in eternity, however, and I try to relax, no matter what I am doing, and remain where I am. I try not to worry about the next day or even the next hour. I realize that as the years have gone by, there are so many things I really want to remember; and because I rushed through events in the past, I have to strain to remember a smile, a hello, or even a thank you from a favorite friend or relative.
I remember the year the fire trucks came to our neighborhood. I was probably five years old. Those trucks released the water from all the hydrants in the area. All the neighborhood children had a blast. We made paper boats and floated them down the stream that filled the street. We squealed with joy as we ran through the jets of water, and felt disappointment as the last bit of water dried up.
I remember the donut vendor that used to come by selling hot glazed donuts. Those were the best donuts I ever had and the reason I am not obese today. None today can compare to the hot gooey pleasure I derived from those donuts. These simple childhood memories are forever etched in time and seem just as alive today as they were then. When you can grasp time, it isn’t really time. It’s an eternal moment.
As people, we are always planning ahead. This has been conditioned in us since the dawn of our existence because we realized that if we did not plan for tomorrow, we would surely die in a storm, as the result of a drought, or as the result of extreme heat or extreme cold. Maybe even be eaten alive by wild animals. We have a sort of fear reflex that if we do not worry about the next day, hour, or moment, it will be to our peril.
In present times, it’s easy to worry. Many people live from paycheck to paycheck, and if they suffer a loss of income or property, they might become homeless. So there are valid reasons to worry about the unknown. However, there is an argument for living in the moment and taking each day as it comes. If this is the moment that matters, then what happens to us if we miss it?
There’ve been a few times in my life where I found myself one step away from being homeless, but what I learned was that I always found myself in better circumstances later, whether I worried or not. I spent many years living from day to day; and through this I discovered the idea of being present. I began to appreciate the little joys in life, while remaining focused on going no farther ahead than today in my mind. I still made plans, and I still put money away when I could; but in my mind I worked very hard to stay focused in the now. My reasons were few. I simply wanted to feel joy now, not ten years from now.
I stopped saying I will be happy when I get that car, when I buy that house, when I earn that degree. I started recognizing that my little girl’s smile or the sun shining in the window was all I needed to be happy. And that happiness was worth an eternity to me.
How can life flow without flowing before, flowing now, or flowing later? (Stephen Batchelor)
Therefore, the moment now is the most current, the most present, the most significant. During these stressful times try being mindful of where you are now. You will find this season becomes a permanent etching to be viewed and re-viewed from time to come.
Written by Lisa Trimarchi
Plant Your Own Garden
Insights
Plant Your Own Garden
Plant Your Own Garden
The other day I got the idea that I would prune my mother’s trees. I’d had enough of looking at those monster trees and thought she might like to have a nice tidy garden, come outside and have a cup of tea while enjoying her day. I created a whole scenario in my head where she would be seduced from her hermetic existence to sit outside in the shade and get some sun. Her cat would be allowed outside, as long as she was there, to stalk and explore. So I set out to shape her trees.
About an hour into my work, I began to reflect on how it seems that one tree—in this case overgrown bush—has so much in abundance. I thought about how I had about a couple of days’ supply of firewood already, and I hadn’t even completed the task. Do we really need to cut down forests when one tree can yield so much wood and still be allowed to live?
I pruned only five trees and had filled over twelve large garbage bags with branches and leaves. Imagine if I had pruned an acre. I wouldn’t be able to do it, but with assistance I could yield several hundred if not a thousand bags of excess branches and leaves.
When I was a child, I thought the world was infinite. The earth would always give up her gifts to me if I wanted. I watched my father garden and was in awe every harvest. We had so many tomatoes, squash, greens, okra, and eggplants. We had so much from such a small piece of land, less than 1/4 of an acre. I hadn’t yet noticed how this compared to others devastated by famine and wars.
When I grew older and became aware of global suffering, I had the sense of putting my hand in front of a tidal wave to stop it. What could I do? Absolutely nothing but be overwhelmed and drowned by the momentum of the rushing waves. If I survived the waves, I would be crushed by everything that they carried away.
I discovered that because we are a greedy people, our mouths open like baby birds wanting to be fed, taking and seldom giving, we are destroying and depleting the earth. When we see others in need with their hands out, we turn away. We don’t want the ugly picture of suffering to put the taste of bile in our mouths, thus embittering our oasis.
We exist on an oasis. It may not always feel that way. We have our own homeless, our own crime, and our own areas of famine. Overall, however, we exist on an oasis, and in the majority of the world, people have to struggle to obtain their next meal.
It causes me sadness. What can I do? How can I change the world?
As I raked up branches and leaves and filled bags, I thought about this. What could one person do? What can I do?
One person can foster a sense of gratitude that we won the lottery of life. We eat and live in relative peace compared to many other parts of the world. An individual can start making changes that will add to others’ efforts to create a wave that could begin to form from unified efforts, such as choosing what we purchase, how we eat, what we eat. Choosing to rein in some of our desires.
In America, we consume most of the world’s resources but yet only comprise a small fraction of the population. One person can make a difference and influence others.
I’ve chosen to consume less. I do need to drive from place to place, but sometimes I choose to walk and ride my bicycle. Maybe we can choose work that is closer to home. Maybe we can choose to carpool. If we can’t make that choice, maybe we can choose to grow some of our own food, thus placing a smaller demand on the supply. Maybe I can choose to plant drought-friendly plants, using less water. Maybe I can choose to be aware and do what I can, whatever that is, to help make the world a better place.
After admiring how lovely I made my mother’s trees, I tied up twelve bags of branches and leaves, put them in the garage for trash day, and realized that by composting I could take that refuse and make from it something beautiful. In a small way, my garden could contribute to making the world a better place and I could make the earth groan less under the pressure we’ve placed on her.
Lisa Trimarchi
Fall back ten and punt
Insights
Fall back ten and punt.
Fall back ten and punt.
Florida gave me a lot. I got my degree. I gave birth to my youngest daughter. I found myself and solidified my identity. However, over the past few years I have been suffering losses. My oldest children are grown but did not leave the nest, and along with maturity there had been contention. I found myself giving more and more and receiving back resentment.
My oldest son left for Thailand 2 years ago and I was worried. How will this guy make it in a foreign country where he did not speak the language? He barely had a job. How would I ever be able to reach him there?
This was the beginning of my growing up and facing that at some point my little ones would have to leave the nest and flounder on their own in order to grow.
My oldest daughter had a baby not too long before that and I found myself taking care of her, the baby, and my other son still in high school. My youngest daughter barely got the attention she needed because I was pulled in so many directions.
I tried to do everything at once, including working on a degree in Math, working a full time job, taking opera lessons, and maintaining a household. At some point a house of cards will fall, and so did mine.
It hit me one day: I can’t do everything. Then I shook myself and tried to do more. I found love or so I thought and tried to juggle that, too. Well, a juggler can only keep so many balls up in the air, and unfortunately, mine came tumbling down.
I have a lot of energy, and well, I didn’t lose it. But I kept trying harder and harder. I was moving in circles and getting nowhere.
I had to sit down and rethink some things. Like, how when you do everything for your children, they naturally expect you to do everything. I had created an intolerable situation. I was expected to do everything, including cooking, cleaning, paying the bills, advising, comforting… everything!
I tried backing off. Having been raised by my mother to be a very nice person, I tried to be compassionate and understanding. I slowly clipped the apron strings. I suggested to my grown children that they move out, find their own place, and create their own life.
I was born with a lot of patience, but when I’ve had enough, I’ve had enough. After you’ve had enough, you endure. I endured. And endured and endured.
No one moved out. They were defiant in their resolve to maintain the status quo, that is, Momma does the cooking, cleaning, paying of the bills, advising, comforting… everything!
I suffered abuse. I received insults, and after all I’ve done for them, I had to accept their abusive friends and disrespectful behavior.
At some point you have to teach your abusers that they are getting nowhere trying to abuse you. My way of doing that was resisting. Arguing, refusing to move. By doing this I made my abusers stronger. My children were able to push harder and harder. Their muscles became that much bigger and I found myself unable to push back.
I had to learn to yield. Not to my children, but to myself. I had to begin to read the signals my heart was sending me. I had to cut my losses.
For several months I felt despair. Where did I go wrong? My youngest son would only voice his resentment toward me. My oldest daughter would only disagree with and defy me. I would cry when no one was near. I would call my mother and cry on her shoulder. I would call my friends and cry on their shoulders.
And one day I stopped crying. Instead, I took action.
I have a great friend named Ralph. He doesn’t like sports much but he will watch football occasionally. One day when we were talking, and I was listening, he told me about a term in football, “fall back ten and punt.” He told me sometimes you have to cut your losses and make the most of a situation. That punt, if successful, could give you the extra points you need to either give you an edge, get you above zero, or even defeat your opponent. And of course, friend that he is, he said I was a very strong person and was smart enough to do the right thing.
Well, coming from Ralph, that meant a lot because he’s a very smart person, a physicist and an engineer.
Fall back ten and punt.
A few months ago I attended a funeral… my uncle’s. I started thinking about my family and how these people I hadn’t seen in years showed me so much love and support. I thought about the possibility of myself going home and starting over. But I wouldn’t be starting over, I would be moving forward.
I have this wonderful car, a Ford Taurus station wagon, and it’s big enough to hold plenty of boxes. I packed my car with a few boxes and my suitcase, and kissed my loved ones good-bye. I decided I would move from Florida all the way to California… alone.
Having to leave my youngest daughter behind was very difficult because she is as mellow as I am and we have a lot of fun together. So I hesitated. We cried. We held each other. I told her I would return for her later. I hugged my oldest children and told them I love them. Then I started on my journey.
I’m in California now. I am working part time tutoring kids and about to pick up some of those balls that I had to drop before. Sometimes it pays to let go. Sometimes risks pay off, and I am sure everyone will be better off in the long run.
Lisa A. Trimarchi
Dreams
Insights
Dreams
I’ve spent a fair amount of my adult life in serving others. I helped initiate three of my children into adulthood and single-handedly provided them the support they needed to launch out on their own and start to accomplish things and discover their dreams. While doing this, I put many of my own dreams aside and fell full into serving society, family, and others. That singer and dancer stood in the wings waiting for her turn to perform. In light of life’s little dramas, getting the kids off to school, helping them graduate from high school, and preparing them for college, the performance had to be placed on hold; and the artist writer stood, pen suspended in air, for her time to create.
In the meantime, the world has continued at its pace, and like the raisin in the sun, the dreamer’s dreams seemed to shrivel. All the while the singer and dancer ached to escape the mind’s barriers and make the appearance now.
I am that artist, that dancer, that singer, and that writer.
One day I realized that another moment waiting to find my passion was a moment ill spent. I got in my car and drove cross-country. I drove from Florida to California with only a few of my belongings.
I decided to materialize my dreams out of what seemed to be nothing, and I must say that I am starting to see them become reality.
It takes courage to make changes. It takes the type of courage that causes you to go against tradition to follow your dreams. I should have laid mine down a long time ago to be replaced by responsibility. Working and making a living took precedence for many years, but did not lend me happiness.
I have a friend who emigrated here from India. His long dream to be an actor has finally taken hold in America. He had to make many sacrifices and practice a kind of selfish virtue in order to start to see his dreams materialize. He left family and friends. He set out on the impossible task of learning the acting craft and then someday performing.
“Pressure, I know pressure,” he says. “Pressure to do what your family wants, pressure to do what is right, pressure to make it in a world where you often feel unwelcome.”
In spite of all the pressure, however, he still makes time to take acting classes where he has to let down defenses that were ingrained in him from his youth, taught never to disagree or argue. Taught to be nice always. He is now letting those barriers down to allow opportunity in. He has to pause and ask, “What is it that I truly feel?” In recognizing his true feelings, he can perform and become himself in any character.
I face a similar challenge. I’ve spent a few years caring for others, putting my dreams and myself last. Now I have more freedom. With that freedom I am faced with what do I do now? For so many years all I wanted was the opportunity to do what it was I truly desired: sing, write music, and learn to play the guitar. I’ve been conditioned to seek out something useful to do to ensure that others are cared for. I now am faced with the task of countering that conditioning and discovering what it is that makes me feel fulfilled and truly happy.
Lately I’ve been leaning toward learning the guitar, taking time to dance, and making room for an ever-expanding spiritual side that has lately grown beyond my ability to contain it.
What happens to a dream deferred? In my case, as Langston Hughes so eloquently states, it explodes!
Once your dreams are allowed to spill over, there’s no knowing where they will lead you. In my case they’ve led me to California, three thousand miles from where I started.
Written by Lisa Trimarchi
That Time of Year
That Time of Year
The Christmas season is upon us, and while it is often disparaged as being too commercialized, I believe that is just a way for us to be less and less introspective about how even now in this day of commercialism we still find ways to bond with one another. We find ways to show we care throughout the year. We do. It’s simply more popular to put ourselves down and say we are a cold, unfeeling people who care only for ourselves. That simply is not true.
Underneath all our clothes lie our individual hearts. We feel the pressure of having to buy gifts for everyone on our list because after all, we do not want our loved ones to think we have forgotten them. We become so busy throughout the year that Christmas is simply the time we finally take to catch up on everything we missed. We’ve forgotten our grandmother in that nursing home and put off visiting her too long. We’ve neglected to call our parents and let them know we love them. Now is the time of year we find the time. We recognize our measure of peace in finally finding the time.
This is our culture. More and more we are finding the time throughout the year to give. The media has been playing a part in assisting us in lending a helping hand. More and more commercials are depicting little acts of kindness. We like to see people serving others.
All too much anymore we are seeing how short life can be and how every moment can be our last. Some of us have not become desensitized to the horrors of terrorism and war we see on our screens. I ask myself, how will I help those hungry and suffering, those frightened by forces of which they have no control?
Oh, Iraq, will there ever be peace for you? Will there ever be an end to the horrible conditions? My impulse is to pray and ask for peace. Will there be peace on earth?
I commit to letting that peace begin with me.
Some of us are having a tough time. Some of us are apart from our families and friends. Some of us are trapped in bitterness and cannot see a way out. Sometimes the hardest journey out is from within.
Sit down. Breathe. Take stock of your life and try to make an appreciation list. Maybe that bitter darkness can be penetrated by a little warmth.
And for those of you who need it, I am sending you warmth, hope and love.
Merry Christmas! Happy Hanukkah! Happy Kwanzaa! Hare Krishna!
Written by Lisa Trimarchi
Insights – Walking, Forgiveness, and Letting Go
Insights
Walking, Forgiveness, and Letting Go
A while back I found myself without a car. I still had to get where I needed to go, and I had two good legs, two good feet, and all of my toes in tact; so I thought, why not walk? Why not ride my bike? Not being used to riding a bike after all these years, I found bike riding a little of a challenge. I had a cheap bike with a hard seat, and needless to say, I found walking a lot easier on my derriere. So I chose walking as my means of transportation to work, to the store, to the park, and wherever else I wanted to go.
I expected to lose weight and tone up, and after about four weeks of walking, I did see a difference in the way I looked. There were many benefits I didn’t expect and what follows is how through walking I found greater meaning in life and a greater determination to hold on in the face of adversity.
Walking was a sort of Zen meditation for me. When my journey took more than five miles, I found myself focusing in on my breathing. I found myself concentrating on each step.
According to the Ramblers www.ramblers.org, ” Walking has been shown to improve self esteem, relieve symptoms of depression and anxiety, and improve mood. Walking, particularly in pleasant surroundings, and with other people, offers many opportunities for relaxation and social contact.”
I have had my share of trials this year, having had to move away from my adult children. I’m forty-four and they are in their late teens and early twenties. For so long I advised them and guided them. This year I finally had to realize that they have their own minds, and all I could do is love them and let them go.
It was tough to let go because I have been the matriarch and their guide and leader all these years. Unhappily, I discovered I was a little too comfortable in that role.
I became devastated when they directed their anger and frustration at me, when they blamed me for their shortcomings and their failures, when they did not acknowledge the good that I helped them achieve. I suffered a loss of self-esteem and self-confidence because, after all, I had failed my children. I became depressed, and to top it off, I lost my car.
The first day I had to walk I was happy that I was finally going to get that exercise that I needed. I only needed to walk two miles that day, but I found myself walking three, and then four. I began to find peace with every step I took. Having lost my joy, I discovered my smile. The small things became huge, like the sunset at the end of the day or the sound of a wood crane in the late afternoon.
I have lost my smile
But don’t worry.
The dandelion has it.
– The Thich Nhat Hanh collection.
Thich Nhat Hanh was a Buddhist monk who practiced during the Vietnam War and against great odds promoted peace. He stated in his collection: “If you have lost your smile and yet are still capable of seeing that a dandelion is keeping it for you, the situation is not too bad.” I found that to be true in the lovely signs that nature gave me during my many long journeys.
One thing I appreciate the most is the feeling of the sun on my skin as I walked for miles. At first I felt discomfort, but I began to love the heat and the humidity. It became a part of my daily journeys. The sun began to represent freedom to me. I had the freedom to put one step in front of the other beneath a sun that would always present itself.
It is true that Peace is in every step and a minor task like walking can be a method to find that peace. Now when I find myself beginning to stress over life’s minor annoyances, I remember and hold on to the strength I found in walking when I was without a car.
I learned to hold onto the feelings of peace as my object. I learned to treasure the small moments of tranquility I found when my endorphins kicked in after traveling a few miles. I learned to capture my newly obtained feelings of empowerment and hold on to them. I in essence regained my self-esteem.
Traveling absently over the stone and pebbles that marked my path,
I heard the sound of the traffic as I found my way home.
In that noise I discovered the space where I had lost my joy.
Joy! I have found it.
It was never out of reach.
– Lisa Trimarchi
Insights – One Thing at a Time
Insights
One Thing at a Time
I often take on too many things at once. I believe I am a master juggler when it comes to life, and I try to do it all. I work full time, go to school, take care of my kids. I even try to go on auditions. I just want to be happy, and I haven’t been able to give anything up because I want to do everything.
A couple of years ago I was dead set on learning German. I wanted to speak it fluently. I attempted to take courses until I realized that my brain could only handle one thing at a time and that one thing more would have been too much.
One thing at a time: that is something that I haven’t accepted. I don’t have to be like everyone else. I can do it all. I can learn it all. This has been a year of one defeat after another, and I realize that I have to slow down.
I’ve come home exhausted from working and too tired to study advanced physics of all things. I’ve been too tired to listen to the ones I love tell me about their day, their life, their dreams. And yes, I’m interested, but I’m too exhausted to give.
Now the question is, what should I give up? How do I let go? How can I keep what’s important and keep up this pace? I have to find something to let go.
I have had some really tough obstacles to face lately. My children are grown but are still dependent on me. I am not rich, but I want to do everything for them. I have been running all over the place trying to do everything and doing it badly.
The Taoist believes the only constant is change and even the most repetitive tasks vary if only within narrow limits. To contemplate and investigate the various sequences of change will engender tranquility that arises when loss, decay, and death are recognized as being no less essential to the whole than gain, growth, and life. Investigation permits one to see within certain limits that which will be inevitable.
Where can I find another me to do the other half of what I have no time to do?
Yesterday I ran to the Buddhist temple. I have been longing for a place of refuge where I could find peace. I have been driving myself so hard I’ve needed to take a break because this camel’s back has been about to break.
One last straw is all it took. My son asked me to go across town in one direction when I was headed in another direction. I had to make him find his own way and I wasn’t sure he could because he depends totally on me. At least that is what I thought.
Boy was I wrong! Everyone can find his/her own way without me. Everyone can decide to be independent of me. I can declare my independence and live in my freedom. Nathan found a friend to take him home.
During meditation at the Buddhist temple yesterday, I found my mind wandering a thousand different places. Then I had a moment of clarity when I heard the teacher say the human mind can only process one thing at a time. That caught my attention.
Americans are multi-taskers and jugglers. I am a master juggler, but lately I’ve been dropping the balls all over the ground. It has been very frustrating.
One thing at a time. That is all I can do. What a relief. That is all anyone can do. I don’t have to conquer the world, implement world peace, and solve advanced physics. I can just take it one step at a time. I can smell the roses, sip some tea, burn a candle, and breathe.
That’s how life is, a stepwise equation. We can only go where our feet will carry us, and they can only carry us one step at a time. I can give myself permission to take it slow. I can say no to some things. I can slow down and breathe.
I’m exhausted. At least now I can take a deep breath. I took several deep breaths while my mind was wandering through meditation. That was when I realized that I was taking one breath at a time.
When I was a child, I suffered with asthma. A clean unrestricted breath is as delicious to me as a glass of purified water to a man emerging from the desert. I lost my wandering and found myself enjoying the process of breathing. I felt my lungs expanding while I let the air in and out, in and out, in and out.
As I walked to my car, I was surprised at how good it felt to breathe in slowly and out slowly. As I take my breath, I will contemplate the wisdom of taking things one step at a time.
The Wolf Speaks
Insights
The Wolf Speaks
The wolf speaks.
I can hear the wolf whispering to me when I walk in the mountains. I must remember not to be afraid, for the wolf appears to me as the wind making its voice present by the sound it makes as it moves the leaves, the branches, and as it dances on my skin.
I’ve been taking a break from my worries and supporting my mental strength by hiking five miles at a stretch in the beautiful Claremont Mountains. I often see deer and their young feeding on the wild grasses that grow on the sides of the path I walk on.
When I first decided to hike alone, I was afraid ? too afraid to make the trek. I remember wandering up the mountain about half a mile before I turned around terrified. I read the warnings about the mountain lions and the bears and couldn’t bring myself to keep going on alone.
What would I do if I encountered a bear or a mountain lion? How would I survive a snake bite? Richard Pryor had a comedy skit about snakes in the woods. I take comfort in knowing that like him, “I’ve got rhythm.” When I see a snake I say, “Oh, snake,” and hop over him as I keep on struttin’ in the woods, or in my case, the mountains.
I’ve seen snakes, rattlers. They do not scare me, for I know that I am the intruder to their mountain home. But I also know that they won’t threaten me.
One day I got the idea to buy pepper spray to protect myself from animals. I purchased my pepper spray from a hardware store for $8.95 plus tax. The package read, “Works on wild animals, humans, and dogs. 30 minutes of painful stinging while you get away.”
“This,” I thought, “is what I need.”
I made it up to my mountain. A ranger was at the entrance to the path, and I asked him if he’d seen any mountain lions or bears lately. He said that a mountain lion hadn’t approached a human in about 12 years or so. And as for bears, they’re rarely seen on the path. I wondered if my pepper spray would work. He assured me I probably wouldn’t need it.
Since my encounter with the ranger, I’ve been hiking my mountain several days a week for about a month now. I’ve seen no mountain lion or bear, but I have seen tarantulas, deer, several species of birds, and rattlesnakes. I’ve heard the wind speak to me through the trees and felt the heat of the sun as I walked on the red earth during the day. I’ve heard the owl at night, seen bats fly at me and barely miss me as they fly off, and felt the cool night air. Once I’ve even seen a shooting star.
There is no wolf where I walk, but I’ve seen him in spirit, and he speaks to me. I feel the mountains are my church and my god. God’s the whisper I hear as I’ve passed the three-mile mark that tells me there is no worry that can survive this trek.
I’m even now starting to take my mountain with me in my dreams, and I could swear my dad walks with me when I pass certain landmarks. He passed on over ten years ago. He always shows up between the 3.5 and 4 mile mark where the mountain is pure rock, where I’ve seen a few tarantulas, and where the mountain sage grows.
I’ve gotten in touch with a few of my native spirits, including the black wolf, the white eagle and the bear. I’ve become strong, patient, and silent. I have found my path, and I have discovered God. I’ve even made a few friends along the way.
If you follow me up that mountain around dusk, I’ll let you listen to the sound of the wolf wind and feel the breath of God as its cool presence brushes your neck.
By Lisa Trimarchi
