Being a Tree in Balance

Being a tree in balance: 

I think I get my truest sense of yoga during Tadasana, tree pose, from first settling my gaze to a fixed point ahead, grounding my leg as a stable root to the floor, and then raising the opposite leg to balance as my arms reach upwards from a prayerful gesture to branch within the sky - I will only succeed through surrender, one-pointed in my concentration,

and then final absorption to the pose.

being a tree in balance.

most truly so.

every aspect of yoga is covered here, even the initial points of our ethical concerns and personal observations. I will not be able to achieve a sense of poise if at any moment I am violent in thought or motion, or I'm not completely honest with myself as I approach the limits of my balance. Each of the Yamas and Niyamas are considered in an instant, intuitively, and move through them all until I reach a steady poise, mindful of breath, senses withdrawn from outer concerns until I reach an easy point of concentration. The pose is a success through my surrender, trusting my place of contact with the ground as well as my arms branching in the air.

a perfect moment of poise. 

steady, comfortable, at ease...

most truly, 

being a tree in balance now.

~

Peace, Eric 

Wintry Mix

Wintry mix: 

it's 4:00 a.m and there's a steady rainfall now, soon to turn into a wintry mix that happens so often this time of year, being mid February and still winter after all. I have a cup of coffee and some writing ahead of me, having just finished an hours worth of meditation and yoga, feeling comfortable and settled in with no real reason to head outside and face the mix of rain and snow. But I know I will, I'll dress warm and have the right gear to keep dry, yet still I'll be wet and cold. 

it's February after all. 

and maybe that's what draws me outdoors, regardless of the weather each morning - each day, and through every season, presents a once upon opportunity to experience is as it, an actuality of this wintry mix that's only truly known by the touch of rainfall or snow. This is a practice of direct experience, reality as it presents itself on an early February morning, and even if I'm less than eager to step outdoors, there's still a deep wish to connect with the uniqueness of this moment.

and this morning offers me a wintry mix.

so the practice comes by not choosing which mornings to walk or if I should stay indoors, it's in disregarding my preference for a warmer sunrise over these dreary winter conditions. I will never have this particular morning again, an opportunity to watch a raindrop turn to a colder touch of snow, or to know what other creature might venture out to explore the world. My neighborhood, suburban, yet full of wonder and wildlife, calls for me to step outdoors and forget the boundaries of  a city's landscape - it's a wilderness right now, as it is every morning just before the hint of dawn. 

and this wintry mix...

is an opportunity to explore 

the uniqueness of this morning. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Through the Quality of its Vibration

Through the quality of its vibration: 

with mantra meditation, the misconception is one of force and concentration, that we cling to a certain word in order to still the mind completely. Yet really, this is the opposite of what we're doing here, it's not even the objective that we're after. The mantra is introduced gently and easily, a thought form without meaning that works solely through the quality of its vibration. 

there's no force of will involved.

no need for concentration. 

we're not seeking to control the mind.

truly, our only goal is to leave the mind alone, allowing it to run its course of thoughts however it will each session. It simply isn't our concern. What we do is introduce the mantra, always with ease, never any force involved, and it doesn't matter if we quickly overwhelmed with thought, we just return to the mantra once more, innocently, as if we've never offered it to the mind before. 

eventually, the mind begins to quiet.

completely on its own.

and we observe this as it happens.

until even the witness is gone.

only silence found.

but again, we don't seek this as an end result of meditation, and the mantra isn't endlessly repeated until this occurs. It's all too gentle of a process, more of a revelation really, through the quality of its vibration, the mantra simply brings us home. 

always gently and easily.

every time. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Longer Pause

Longer pause: 

sometimes inspiration takes a softer tone, less obvious in its arrival, and words seem more reflective of this moment, almost hesitant in my approach to writing. For me, this is when writing becomes most artful, working through a longer pause between phrases, with often a single word being found most valuable of all in its arrangement on the page. I've learned to trust silence, minimizing my demands, detaching from the process of writing, reminding myself that I'm a participant here.

not entirely the source of its creation. 

but simply part of its arrival. 

helping words to reach the page,

humble in my position, 

there's a great amount of joy to this writing, a relief really, accepting my role and not fooling myself with the belief of my importance. Yes, I am essential, but no more so than any other tool at my disposal, and in this sense I see my own invaluable contribution to something so much larger than myself. I play a critical role in inspiration, vital to a unique expression, yet an instrument non the less. My true talent is in making myself available, being fully prepared for inspirations arrival, and willing to put my own demands aside and listen to the silence found between each word.

that's when writing becomes most artful. 

through that longer pause...

where mystery is revealed. 

~

Peace, Eric 

 

Tracking Dawn

Tracking dawn: 

ever since winter solstice I've been tracking dawn, following its course of rising through the morning, and wondering when I catch my first glimpse of light on my earliest morning walks. I usually head outdoors somewhere around the 5:00 a.m mark, sometimes before, but that's the standard time for me as I wish to avoid most runners, especially the heavy footed and those who play music while they run. My purpose is solitude, quiet, and whatever glimpse of wildlife fortune provides for me. Even my own steps often disturb the morning silence. I pause often, allowing everything to settle, proceeding again only when I'm sure my footsteps will be mindful. 

so earlier for me is better.

yet this time of year, all through the months winter, I miss the sunrise. Even the ambient light before true fails to appear at this time. I don't mind the darkness, my eyes adjust to the path and there's seldom a need for the flashlight that I carry. It's always an interesting time, caught right between two worlds as some wildlife is awakening while others retreat to find a place to rest through daylight hours. It feels like home to me, a meeting point of two worlds, mysterious, showing me how I belong to both darkness and light and every shade between. 

there's nothing to choose in this belonging. 

it's all perfect just as it is. 

tracking dawn, ever earlier now each day, and soon I'll catch the earliest sunlight. I'm looking forward to this, accepting the first tint of color to the sky as a welcome to another season. I belong just as fully to this morning light as I do to the darker shades that winter offers. There's nothing to choose here, life proceeds through various degrees of light and seasons and I am immersed in their belonging. Deeply so. A participant really. 

what I'm truly tracking, is the dawn of my own existence.

showing me just how deeply I belong. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Meeting Point

Meeting point: 

there are names for these areas I have in mind, labels of science that offer a description, technical to the specific places place that they're found. What I'm thinking of is the point of entrance from a stream or river to a larger body of water, a mouth if it's flowing into the ocean, or estuary for when it's a lake or pond. There are other terms as well for some of these localities, being dependent upon the conditions that are formed by the meeting of these waters. 

each place is magical in its way. 

I spend sometime everyday in such places, small areas where my local streams merge into my neighborhood ponds, observing the appearance of how one thing, water, creates itself anew as something larger than its previous version. For me, this becomes a meditation, with my thoughts following the stream on its journey, tumbling towards a meeting point where it eventual turns calm, settled into a larger existence as a pond. Everything plays a role here, vital to the landscape that they belong to, and even their merger creates a special environment that provides a home many plants and creatures. 

these are magical places, obvious in the metaphor they provide,how everything belongs in sacred order without need of interference. There is a meeting point to all things, or at least the appearance of this being so, and that I am a product of this action, a stream of particles that has somehow settled into a specific body, an identity of a personal existence. 

someone. 

yet in reality, I'm simply a meting point of ever smaller things, a confluence of events appearing briefly as a settled form. My true identity seems to be motion as well as stillness, stream and pond, river and an infinite ocean of existence. What I am is beyond description, something that can't be named nor ever truly told...but I know it when I'm immersed in nature.

a meeting point of every possibility. 

happening right now. 

~

Peace, Eric 

Soft Return

Soft return:

what I most love is the soft return of mantra, how initially my mind might be crowded with thought and that with each easy repetition of its vibration there arrives a settled silence, natural, without any striving to reach this point of stillness. It happens on its own, being more a revelation of what's already present than a true arrival - the mantra simple brings me to back to the reality of a quiet mind, always here just beneath every thought that's passing. 

in it's soft return...the mantra reminds me that I'm home.

exactly what I am.

and than there are those moments when thoughts seem to emerge from an extended stay of silence, noticed through their subtle entrance and just before the mind latches hold to the currents of their motion. It's the soft return of mantra that eases me back to stillness, not forcing thoughts away, but only offering the mind a vibrational option, a thought without any meaning other than a quality of silence. 

it's here, that I discover the true art of mantra...

a soft return to silence.

by simply letting go. 

~

Peace, Eric