Tracking the Sapsucker

I keep a journal of the birds I see in my backyard deep in the city of Chicago. Even though the backyards and alley are webbed by power and phone lines, and even though the el tracks are barely 50 feet from my house, I have seen more than 100 bird species in the last 20 years. On April 17, I spotted the proverbial yellow-bellied sapsucker in my cherry tree. Looking back, I see the following days when the sapsucker first appeared in the spring:

2006: 4/29
2003: 4/4
2002: 4/11
2001: 4/11
1995: 4/14
1994: 4/10
1993: 4/17
1992: 4/19

There is a pattern to the motion of the birds across the continent each year. It is far bigger than me and my back yard. Yet, it leads certain birds to my cherry tree and my pond at the same time every year. It is something I can neither understand nor control. I find it comforting and reassuring. It is a little epiphany, a little bit of magic each year. All you have to do is open to it and watch.

33, not 32

Today there was another memorial for the victims at Virginia Tech. The bell tolled 32 times. As I understand it, 32 were killed by the shooter, who then killed himself. I saw, on TV, one student who had 33 written on his arm in memory of all the victims. What if the bell had actually tolled 33 times? Why is it that people can't get their minds around the fact that the shooter was a victim himself--a victim of his own mental torments? If we could think in terms of 33 rather than 32, our perspective would change dramatically.

Life of the Buddha

Yesterday I led a discussion about the life of the Buddha. This was an interesting challenge for me, because the Buddha has always seemed sort of a remote figure, and his life more abstract history than something living and relevant to me now. The good thing about teaching/facilitating is that it forces you to do some studying beforehand. I discovered several things of interest:

• Buddha's parents, King Shuddhodana and Queen Maya, had very well defined notions about how he should live his life and what he should do, like any parents. They did everything they could do protect him and steer him the way they wanted him to go (to be the new king).
• Of course, Siddhartha ended up doing exactly the opposite of what they had in mind, like most kids.
• I forgot that after taking three visits from his castle, during which he saw old people, sick people, and dead people, he took a fourth trip. On this journey he saw a spiritual practitioner. He was lucky to have people in India who had devoted themselves to a spiritual lifestyle and who seemed to be at peace compared to the other people he saw. So we are lucky too to have teachers in our midst, especially the Tibetans. It's awful that they had to leave their home and are still being persecuted now, but we are benefiting from it.
• He went through a period of seeking during which he tried out different approaches--including dieting to extremes. Moderation turned out to be the key.

Having raised my own children I can appreciate this story better now. It doesn't seem so abstract. We too try to distract ourselves with amusements and toys. But examples of another path to follow are all around us.

I can't understand how Buddha could leave his wife and child, however. I don't know if I would be able to do that myself.

Driving with Tara

Driving is one of the most practical and challenging ways to integrate spiritual practices into your life. Here in Chicago, driving is a continual challenge. My own neighborhood is a construction zone with some sort of redevelopment or renovation seemingly on every block. I try to say mantras as I am driving. Some might say this is distracting. But it calms me down so that when people cut me off, walk in front of me, pull their trucks in front of me, block the street, or any of a hundred other things, I imagine the goddess Tara showing compassion on them, telling them to slow down, calm down, and be more mindful. It's not easy. But after a few years of working on this it is beginning to pay off.

On Perpetual Retreat

What would it be to live your live in perpetual retreat? After a formal retreat in which I sat with a group and did 12,000 mantras in a single place, I decided to keep going. Every day I do a practice and say at least 1000. Many of my friends are doing the same thing, so this is hardly new. I find that unless I have to have a reason to take time for myself, to meditate on the good aspects of my life and the many things I am doing right, I won't do it. I will just go through my day in a state of unending "churn." Doing some mantras in the morning, some while I am walking or driving, and some at the end of the day gives a shape to my day and instills my activities with a motivation and purpose. Rather than checking stuff off a list of things to do, which is my default mode, I am working to better myself so I can be a better parent, better citizen, better friend, etc. It might sound pompous to read it like this but if you shift your thinking from the "things to do" mode to the "I'm going to help myself and help other people the best I can" mode your attitude begins to shift. You don't have so much anxiety and tension. And you tend to get more done when you are in this more focused, positive state. Try it!

A Weekend with Tara

I spent a beautiful Saturday in a windowless room in the back of a medical center on Belmont Avenue, doing a mantra retreat. We were praying to Tara. Tara is a female Buddha, a goddess who is committed to help other beings. Think about all the love and nurturing you have ever received in your life and multiply it, and that is what you get from Tara. It was quite a profound experience. I was quite depleted and weary from work, but I felt myself being put back together during the meditation. It's late and I am finding it hard to write, but will talk about this more later...