First Agenda

First agenda: 

it seems in today's political climate that the first objective isn't to outline an agenda for healing an ailing world, but to define those who hold a different view than ours as the enemy, trying make it clear that these people wish to do irrevocable harm to our country. The first agenda is to label them as being other than us, different not just in opinion but in who they really are, enemies of our most cherished beliefs and way of living. This has probably always been so, yet it seems so stark now, with dividing lines so readily embraced and eagerly defended. 

often to the point of violence. 

the first agenda should always be inclusive, to do no harm, and offer solutions to our political divide. It should always be love, and not just of our county, we're larger than that, our love is far more expansive than could ever be held within borders. Of course I'm being naive here, and my thoughts will be easily dismissed by those who to further the divide or cling to any sense of power. But I'll continue on, offering my naive views, refusing to label anyone as my true enemy. 

even if they seek to harm me. 

really though, I'm not naive, nor am I engaging in wishful thinking or impractical solutions. The only sure way to save the world right now is to love it, and each other, to the fullest extent we're able. Nothing else will work. This is the message of every great spiritual teacher, the basis of most religions, a simple tenant, to simply love each other. It's always the first agenda, the only one that matters. 

without it we are lost. 

there's room for differences, both in opinion and lifestyles -  yet there are no others, we're not enemies, just fellow human beings trying to get by in a bit of a scary world right now. We all have the same first agenda, to love and to be healed, and if it doesn't seem that way - look deeper. 

our first agenda is to love.

~

Peace, Eric 

Once Broken

Once broken: 

I don't know as we're ever truly healed of sorrow, not completely so, once broken it seems that life has a tendency to keep us that way, open, spacious, and that our wholeness is actually found through the light that's now brought in between the pieces of our shattered identity. 

we're not healed as we once were before...

but discovered already whole. 

it seems we're supposed to break at certain points in life, small aches adding up over time, the major loss of loved ones from our lives, and our eventual physical decline. It's the first truth of Buddha, our suffering inherent to living, no escape from this for anyone. Yet we try, adding false layers of protection, cushions to shield us from the pain life offers through its course. Nothing works, not for very long, they're just distractions and an attempt to hold our lives together, delaying the opportunity brought by the realization of our impermanence. It's's fear of this that keeps us from accepting that we're broken. 

really though, it's only a false layer that's been shattered. 

our core being remains whole.

newly rediscovered through our sorrow.

once broken, we're now free to roam the spaciousness of our existence, exploring between the pieces of those shattered layers without need of clinging to their edges. The key is to resist the urge to tape ourselves together into another false identity, to not become a wounded healer, but to simply remain open to this sense of mystery, knowing ourselves only as the reality of light that illuminates the pieces. 

once broken...

we're revealed as light. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Least Disturbed

Least disturbed:

for me - nature should be least disturbed, with my steps quiet, almost hushed against the ground in their placement, soft breath, easy with the effort of my motion. Speed and distance are of little concern to me these days, it's less about training for an upcoming event, or even reaching a greater level of fitness as is simply moving quietly through nature, particularly before hint of first light, having my stride match the pace of dawn in its slow arising. 

surrounding nature being least disturbed by my presence. 

my wish is to blend in, it's yoga, walking, running in union with waning night and the day's arrival, a bridge between these two worlds. It's really about belonging, and to do so I have to match my pace with nature, not forcing myself to move faster just for the sake of gaining something of less value than what these holy moments offer. Yes, I have lost my racing edge, nowhere near as fast, nor as capable of covering distances once reached before. But I am fit and healthy, strong, and mostly importantly, for me, I belong more comfortably in my surroundings, an easier motion, serene in breath as well as stride.

I belong.

nature least disturbed. 

what I find is that the world has opened up to me now in a completely different way, my rush put aside, and my attention has sharpened past my body to a larger environment. Nature is truly least disturbed by my presence, more accepting of my easier pace and softer breath, revealing secrets that had been lost to me before. I'm not here in pursuit of anything substantial, not in these hours that are more truly devoted to the subtle language of the world.  

predawn, and everything is yoga, union, holy. 

my practice is motion, approaching it softly, with care...

leaving nature least disturbed. 

~

Peace, Eric 

At Last, A Fox

At last, a fox:

after months of keeping sharp lookout along the paths, rising even earlier to walk though neighboring woods before even the first hint of sunlight - and I have finally caught sight of my local fox. This has been a bit of a quest of mind, a hopeful endeavor added to my morning walks. My extended neighborhood has several foxes and I would see them fairly often on my longer walks and runs. But a few months back it occurred to me that's been quite sometime since my last sighting and I began to be more watchful, training my eyes along the edge of woods and the path, knowing of their preference for hunting at dawn and dusk and making sure I was out the door before sunrise to catch one returning from its hunt. 

and yesterday I did.

as last, a fox.

it was just a shadow at first, a glimpse of motion,  right along the edge of a deeper patch of woods and it instantly gave me reason to pause. Nothing else moves with that certain grace, a slivering glide, almost a low flight across the ground and yet somehow so completely connected to the earth. In just a moment he came more sharply into view, stopping just a few yards before me, curious, a brief glance shared between us, meaningful - at least for me. 

and then it was over, almost vanishing into the woods, his motion so smooth that it took an instant for it register that he was actually gone. Yet that sense of grace and wildness lingered and I was not yet ready to move on, still staring into the woods, holding on to that last bit of magic in the air. At last, a fox, an early morning sighting the filled the remainder of my day with the joy of that encounter.  This morning, light rain and the cloud cover keeping early light at bay, there was no sign of my fox. But there were songbirds already giving note, a few rabbits nibbling blades of grass, geese, all unconcerned by rainfall. There's magic everywhere, nature providing me a continuous sense of awe. 

yesterday,

at last, a fox.

and this morning...

s different glimpse of magic. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Challenge

 Challenge: 

it's not that I see the emptiness of a starting page as some sort of challenge, a space to be filled with words that I have written - no, there's no real goal here to my writing, just a subtle inspiration arriving most mornings, a whisper, and then an urge to remember what's been heard. 

emptiness is never challenged.

as the page remains empty even with these words.

lending itself as capacity to embrace each morning's inspiration.

sacred in its hold. 

so in essence, emptiness is always the invitation for words to appear, a blank canvas waiting for first brushstroke, life, opening itself for our stories to be told. There is no challenge for its fulfillment, each particular word and brushstroke is equal in its beauty, every life is a sacred story. That's the true inspiration, that there exists an infinite emptiness for our lives to unfold in, never filled, but stretching endlessly onward for every possibility to be expressed. 

life isn't some sort of challenge, it's not a game to be won or lost, nor is it a battle to be conquered. 

it's art.

and emptiness is the essential starting point of inspiration, everything is received right here, in this exact moment, and then proceeds to the timeline of our stories. We are artist as well as the medium of our display - the empty page or canvas being no more than our own reflection. 

waiting only to be filled. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Doing Our Best

Doing our best:

we're all doing our best, trying to figure out exactly who we truly are and where we belong in a rapidly changing world. I know I am, and I try to extend this courtesy of understanding to others, keeping in mind that someone else's effort may look vastly different than my own - and perhaps not even look like much of an effort at all. Yet the onus is always on me to recognize the sincerity of others, it's my responsibility to be kind, it's my dharma.

and yours as well. 

no one can truly understand how someone has arrived to their position, what evens my have shaped their minds, or led them to specific beliefs or conclusions. This is where they are, standing firm in an opinion that they believe is their own but in fact has been shaped through countless generations before, influenced by media, teachers, and clergy. 

it's exactly where we are as well.

most of us at least. 

there are some though who are now starting to let go of this rigid way of living, dropping the influence of previous beliefs and embracing the unknown, clearly seeing that who we truly are is actually a mystery, and that this will appear differently in others and the lives they're drawn to express. What's seen is really very simple....

we're all doing our best. 

this isn't an excuse for bad behavior, nor for the mistreatment of others - it's just a basic understanding that's arrived to somehow, part of the mystery. Maybe our own harsh judgments, either received or given, have finally broke us open to the point that all we wish for is kindness. It doesn't really matter as here we are, broken and our spaciousness revealed. 

there's no longer a choice for kindness.

it's simply what we are. 

and we're all just doing our best.

every moment. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Bullfrogs

Bullfrogs: 

it's such a familiar sound to me, hearing the croak of bullfrogs through the summer months, most especially during my predawn walk when their calling is more active and their signature chorus accompanies me around the pond and into the woods as I follow along side the streams. Yet it's seldom that I ever see one, just occasionally catching a quick hop as they return to water from the corner of my eye. I love their presence though, their call echoing through the woods, reminding me that there's so much existing right on the edge of my senses, creatures heard in background of my early walks, familiar, but largely unknown, remaining mostly mystery. 

the American bullfrog has been heard throughout my entire life, a constant presence, and yet without a bit of mindful attention, almost forgotten in their familiarity. If anyone lives near a body of water they know their sound well, it's part of the very fabric of summer, constant as the humid nights. Their call has blended into the season, belonging to the deep ecosystem of our listening. 

bullfrogs offer a chorus song of our own connection.

bullfrogs have a voracious appetite and will consume just about anything they're able to catch, with a surprising variety of small animals consumed. As well they're an essential food source for many birds and mammals, belonging fully to the process of life in its constant trade of energy.  This is deep ecology, a landscape of seamless connection, soul, and we're part of this system too, as essential as every other aspect found. We will eventually return to land, earth stuff, our present particles mingling once more with this deep ecology. Bullfrogs offer me a reminder of my true value, that I am essential here, integral to the landscape by virtue of existence. 

such a familiar sound, a chorus of croaks traded back and forth...

an echo of my own belonging.

~

Peace, Eric