Gaia Community: Angela's Blog

Maybe you miss me! :)

Wed, 07 May 2008 04:45:19 -0000

I've been away... But doing good stuff. I hope you'll come find me at my other places. Currently, those are:

Life. Love. Food. - All about real food, real life, and leaving the industrial food complex behind.

Cornucopia Press - My new small press. Immerse yourself in historical fiction.

Hope you'll come visit, and leave a comment or two. Especially at LifeLoveFood. You'll like that one. :)

Bicycling in the rain

Sat, 08 Mar 2008 06:31:36 -0000

Our car died, and we decided to try living without one. It's been interesting. Lots of things are harder, but not so hard we can't manage, generally. Being sick is harder, for sure.

But one thing I notice is that I get to experience the world more directly from a bike. In a car, you're insulated from the world, and from what you're doing. You can let your mind wander, forget that you're driving.

But on a bike, you're sort of automatically mindful. You're right there where the road or path is. You feel the rain on your face. You see the small things. It's a great way to be here, now.

Why are gurus so weird?

Fri, 08 Feb 2008 01:49:42 -0000

Did you ever wonder why you'll run across a spiritual teacher who clearly has genuine insight, and then as you get to know them you'll find attachments and judgements that are almost shocking? I don't know about you, but I've even wondered that about myself. I "get it," and yet I find myself judging, becoming angry, defensive, being attached to crazy stuff. Why? Am I just expecting too much?

I was reading Robert Aiken recently, and found something that really gave me an "ah ha!" He was talking about a popular spiritual teacher, who he didn't name. He said

His writings sparkle with genuine insight, yet something is awry... What went wrong here? I think he chose a short cut to teaching. My impression is that he underwent a genuine religious experience, but missed the vital, step-by-step training which in Zen Buddhist tradition comes after realization.

It makes so much sense! And now I'm remembering my karate teacher saying that the black belt means that you're now ready to start training. Same idea, huh?

Zen: why all the fuss?

Fri, 01 Feb 2008 00:13:44 -0000

I was sitting zazen the other day, and an image came to mind. Actually, it was more like a whole story, but it only lasted a second, I swear! :-)

Anyway, I was thinking of a piano player who'd been playing by ear for years, and doing fine. She'd created beautiful music by listening to and studying much more serious musicians (like Beethoven, Scott Joplin and Billy Joel). Then, after a few decades of this, she realized that something was missing, that maybe she had something really *important* yet to learn. And that day, she started doing scales, for the first time in her life.

That's what I thought. It's like doing scales. Boring, and vital.

Emptiness

Wed, 16 Jan 2008 01:31:20 -0000

In the morning, at the zendo, after zazen there is zendo cleaning and then a formal breakfast. There is a formal aspect to the meal, but it's not silent. That is, we engage in pleasant conversation while we eat.

I asked the priest, "Is it ok for me to ask a dharma question over breakfast?" "Sure," he says. "I was just wondering, what does 'emptiness' mean?" There was laughter, because it was a pretty big question for breakfast. But really, I'd been asking specifically about a part of the breakfast chants, which includes "the emptiness of the three wheels, giver, receiver and gift."

The emptiness, in this case, refers to the empty place where our discerning thoughts used to be. Giver, receiver, and gift: all are one. The distinctions between them are void, or non-existent. At least, that's my understanding. What do I know?

Mostly, though, the emptiness is in my head. Since I posted the last entry, about sitting down and shutting up, I have been awfully quiet. It's been hard to think of any words to say.

Wanna-be Buddhist

Wed, 12 Dec 2007 22:25:29 -0000

I have heard people tell me that they don't want to study Karate (or any martial art) because, they say, it's not practical, or it's too structured, too choreographed to be worthwhile. I've even heard students complain that endless punches and blocks will not help them to become... whatever it is they hope to become.

But what I've noticed is that the sempai at our dojo are amazing people. If they got to be the way they are by doing ten thousand middle punches, then I will do ten thousand middle punches. It's pretty simple.

So why is it that when it comes to Zen Buddhism, I whine, just like these folks who reject martial arts?

See, I don't think Buddhism is a very good idea. There are plenty of reasons. Westerners, I tell myself, can't really be Buddhist. We can only be Wanna-be-Buddhists. And there are all sorts of philosophical problems with non-attachment. And what's wrong with dualism? You can't have A and not-A, right? All that stuff about ancestors, yuck. And while I have ideas about The God-Force That Is Love, and All That Is, when people start talking specifics I quickly begin looking like an atheist. "Lord Buddha," indeed. Harumph.

For years (and I mean years) I've been picking bits and pieces, reading great masters, and telling myself, I guess, that it's just sheer luck that these teachers are so dang wise.

What's finally sinking in is that these folks have something figured out. I'm not saying they're perfect, but when I look at the people who do call themselves Buddhist, I think that maybe, whatever my monkey-mind has to say, I could stand to learn a thing or two. I think that they're clearing a pretty nice path, and maybe I should drop my machete and follow them instead.

So while I'm not quite ready to call myself a Buddhist, I think I am ready to shut up and sit. Close the door, will you?

Unconditional love has to be possible.

Wed, 12 Dec 2007 19:27:23 -0000

People need unconditional love. I instantly recognized the truth of that idea when I ran across the work of Carl Rogers in college. But that creates a dilemma for me.

Either it's actually possible to love unconditionally, or it's not. If it's not, then something is required for the full expression of humanity that we simply cannot have, and that would mean that life is ultimately tragic. I can talk more about how I managed to rid myself of existential angst later. For now, just: No. I can not accept that the universe is set up that way.

So, then, it has to be possible.

Thinking of this led me to an awareness I think I really needed. I have been trying to learn to put the truths I see into words, as wonderful teachers I love do so well. I've been really pushing in that direction, pushing the way you try to push water, or push a rope. Pushing. I want to be able to share these ideas with people I love--ideas like non-judgement and oneness. Surely, being able to write well about them is my calling. It's what I'm here to do.

But thinking about this, about Carl Rogers and unconditional love, I realized--no, I remembered--what it is I am actually doing. I don't know how I ever forgot.

My purpose here is to love unconditionally. Not to write brilliant essays or books, not to become something in particular. Loving unconditionally is the only thing I need to learn, the only thing that matters.

It's not about Jesus, really.

Tue, 27 Nov 2007 18:45:48 -0000

I'm liking Jesus better all the time. At least, I'm liking the Jesus that's forming in my mind. Once I got a clear understanding of love...

It's what holds everything together, and it's the everything too! -- Rumi

...I began to have an easier time seeing the light in stories about Jesus. Especially the stories in the Gospel of Thomas.

It is I who am the light which is above them all. It is I who am the all. From me did the all come forth, and unto me did the all extend. Split a piece of wood, and I am there. Lift up the stone, and you will find me there.
-- Jesus, according to the Gospel of Thomas

I'm thinking about this now, because a couple of guys sat near me at the coffee shop this morning, and it turned out they were a local preacher and a travelling missionary. They wanted to know if I'm a believer. Wow. How do I answer a question like that?

I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and decided to tell them the truth, as best I could. Turned out my best wasn't quite right. I said "Yes, I'm a believer, but I'm not a Christian." At one point, I added, "I'm liking Jesus better all the time." But still, they couldn't really hear me, or engage in a conversation.

Once they left, I put some thought toward how hard it was to communicate with these men. I think that both my authenticity and their comprehension were compromised by the demon that hung in the air between us. That demon was the construct they carry around, the belief they hold in hell, and in permanent separation from divine love.

I am almost looking forward to the next time I find myself in a conversation like this. Maybe I'll have learned something? Maybe I'll even be able to outshine them, as I tell them what I really think about God's love. Maybe they'll feel it. Maybe.

What's your mission statement?

Wed, 14 Nov 2007 18:36:34 -0000

I am trying to really get it. I know--we all know, by now--that our intention is very powerful. All we have to do is focus, pay attention, and anything we choose is ours. But there's the problem: what do we choose?

I've talked to folks who've just been exposed to ideas like the ones in "the secret" (ideas that have been around for a long time, by the way). They begin to look for things they can manifest. "Oooh! What should I get? A girlfriend? A car? A million dollars? The possibilities are endless!"

But there's a catch. You really have to want it. You have to really want it.

So, sure, it can work. If you can convince yourself that your highest vision of who you are is "a hot chick driving a cool car" you will manifest that. If your vision is of a writer who's sold a million copies, made a million bucks, you'll manifest that.

But what happens to those of us who can't really believe, in our hearts, that our highest vision looks like that? We wander around wondering why, even though we believe this stuff, even though we know it, we can't seem to make anything happen.

I've worked on learning to live in abundance for years now. I'm still working on it. What I've noticed is that taping a note to my ceiling, or to my bathroom mirror, or chanting mantras about abundance--these things don't make the difference. They don't, because no matter how many of those things I try, my highest priorities don't involve money. And what I've learned is that you can only manifest your highest priorities.

Those highest priorities, your highest vision of yourself, are going to be different for everyone. To find yours, think about what you'd like people to say about you. If you want your tombstone to say "She drove an awesome car," you're well on your way to manifesting that vision. But if that doesn't sound right to you, maybe it's time to put yoru energies toward something different.

I have discovered (finally!) that my highest vision for myself is pretty simple. It's to remember myself as a spark of the divine fire. To speak to the heart. To choose love over fear.

Now that I'm beginning to get used to manifesting these things, I'm getting the sense that another vision is forming: I'm a spark of the divine fire, speaking to the heart, choosing love over fear, and I have all I need. Now that's a vision I can get behind!

Art is dead. Long live art!

Mon, 05 Nov 2007 23:56:04 -0000

A few months ago, I wrote what may turn out to be my last poem. There's a part of me that that would love to put together more words, this time to tell you how we are one, how you and I are a universe, all by ourselves, a singularity that split itself in two in order to experience tango. How it isn't only you and I that make up a universe, but you and her, me and him, as many combinations (or permutations) as you can imagine, and more, because there are enough dimensions that we can each hold hands with everyone at once.

But I keep thinking that the truth is bigger than anything that can be captured, not just by me, but even by great artists, even by Madeline L’Engle or Ursula K. Le Guin. I once loved their stories, yet now it seems like fiction and poetry are distractions, spoonsful of sugar to make a materialist, world-bound life tolerable.

I have to agree with Daniel Pinchbeck, who says that “most contemporary fiction, like most current film, has an increasingly retrograde quality.” It’s evidence of our past, like old high-heeled shoes, left over from before we realized we deserve better. It’s time to let go of our tendency toward “inciting and then placating the desires and fears of the individual ego.”

Bio-fuel and Permaculture?!

Tue, 30 Oct 2007 16:06:35 -0000

I've been pretty convinced that switching to ethanol, running cars on corn, is a bad idea. It has looked like a big corporate monoculture nightmare. But I just found some hope. I just discovered David Blume, whose work on biofuels comes from a permaculture perspective.

Alcoholcanbeagas.com offers answers to my objections. If this guy is right...

* There is enough land to feed us and grow fuel-plants.
* Cars can be fueled on a small scale, without supporting giant oil companies.
* Growing our own fuel can help heal the earth.

Given the massive potential for polyculture yields, monoculture-study dismissals of ethanol production seem silly when viewed from economic, energetic, or ecological perspectives.

Wow. What if it's true? :)

My god, what have I done?

Thu, 25 Oct 2007 20:36:48 -0000

Shit.

I just filled my gas tank with a biofuel blend. And I was thinking about how there are serious problems with corn as a fuel. And I told myself, "yeah, but it's clearly better than oil and blood, which is what the other 90% of the fuel is made of."

Oh my god.

No wonder antidepressants are so popular.

Attention

Mon, 01 Oct 2007 20:52:57 -0000

I received a message, very clearly, over the course of a few weeks, saying "You are a very powerful person." Over and over, people I'd meet would say to me, "You are powerful." So it wasn't just in my mind that I got the message, but from people around me. "You are so powerful."

Shortly after that, another message came, and this one was less clear. The message was that it's this very power, undirected, that results in the health problems I face. I knew that I would need to learn something about my power and how use it, in order to heal fully, and have the kind of life I envisioned for myself. I figured I'd continue the work I was doing, meditate more, read some books, train in martial arts, and those things would be the road for finding out whatever it was I needed to know.

But instead, those things are just fun stuff around the edges. It turns out that what I needed was to jump down the rabbit hole, through the looking glass, off the edge of infinity. And here's what I found when I got there.

I found my attention. I held it in my hand, saw it, felt its power. I moved it around, I threw it at things... and I mean all of this literally. These are not metaphors--at least not in the usual sense. I would count this among the things that are unseen and unexplained, so in that sense, metaphor, yes. But I really did hold it. I really did feel its power. And that power--I don't know what to compare it to. There's simply nothing.

Now I am a warrior. I have seen the power of my attention, and I've also seen, since that discovery, all kinds of people and things that would diffuse it or disrupt it. I'll not let it happen. This conviction is even stronger than my protective instincts about my children. I *will not* let my attention be hi-jacked, diluted, or stolen. I have pure, clear knowledge that this is the most precious thing I've ever had my hands on, and I'm not going to let it get away.

Neither student nor teacher

Mon, 01 Oct 2007 18:33:11 -0000

There is no such thing as a student, and there is no such thing as a teacher. Those are only roles we play, depending on how our attention is directed.

I had the experience today of having some wisdom dropped at my feet. It came in the form of an unexpected phone call. It came to me as an interruption, because it served my friend, somehow, to bestow it.

And this is a very wise friend. I am often grateful for the things I'm able to learn from him. Sometimes I learn from what he tells me; more often I learn from what he shows me. But thinking about this experience today, I noticed that it was not helpful to me to be "given" wisdom in this way, and that it didn't honor who I am, or my process.

The lack of attention toward where my attention was at the moment really got my attention, so to speak, and I began to think about why it is that sometimes those little bits of wisdom seem so unhelpful, and at other times they are just delicious.

What I'm seeing is that I am playing the role of student when the spark of curiosity is lit in me, when I'm filled with interest, even hunger for understanding. It's then that I'm most able to learn.

When, then, am I playing the role of teacher? That's harder. I think I will choose to play the role of teacher only after I'm in a state of connection with someone whose curiosity is infectious, and I'm sensing, in the moment, that they're inviting me to help them discover something.

I wonder if more attention to this can shed some light on how it is that school fails to serve so many of our kids?

A strange and twisting path

Sat, 29 Sep 2007 02:35:38 -0000

I suppose this recent concentration on staying grounded and earthy is going to be a good thing. Right now, I'm doing energy work. I've finally got it through my thick head that until I allow the free flow of energy through me, I'm not going to have real peace.

It's a weird, swirly rabbit-hole, more beautiful and terrifying than anything I've done before.

And it's harder than ever to be a householder. Without this focus on the "real world" I've been practicing, I'm not sure I could handle it.

Aw, what am I saying? Surely I have the power to hold my children and my wonderful husband in my attention and at the same time let my spirit go on adventures outside time and space. No sweat. I'm on it.

Heh.

What IS a spark of the divine fire, anyway?

Thu, 27 Sep 2007 16:20:14 -0000

Who I am

I am a manifestation of the force that you can only begin to see, to trust. I am a being of light, of the divine-quantum-love-energy that is the one, where all energy and all power rests, and where you are completely safe and whole.

I am individualized, and walking in the dream, in order to realize the fullness of my love/power.

I am a mirror, shining light to other individuated beings who want to know their true nature, and the incredible power of the divine-intention-energy that they are.

I am quiet. I am empty. I am full.

I am free of greed, envy, self-importance, judgment, and fear. Except when I'm not.

I am a chooser of the triad--love, truth, joy--which makes up the entirety of reality, and is contrasted with the lack, which is known as fear, and also as envy, greed, judgment and self-importance.

What I receive

Reminders come, once in a while, when I'm lost in the fiction, from other individuated beings who are in loving communion with my self.

Grounding comes, once in a while, when I'm lost in reality, from other individuated beings who also walk a path of awareness.

Loving contact comes to me through other individuated manifestations of sacred power, to remind me that we are one.

Awareness of my inner wisdom and knowledge comes through perceptions within and without, including cooperative perception and connection with other individuations.

What I give

I offer others who are lost in the fiction a vision of what is true.
I hold up a mirror, so my brothers can see what is not seen.
I draw connections that help students see beyond the fiction.

I'd love to get some comments here, telling me who YOU are. :)

"This is not a monastic path."

Fri, 31 Aug 2007 17:03:28 -0000

I picked up an audio book at the library, Love Is a Fire and I Am Wood: The Sufi's Mystical Journey Home, by Llewellyn Vaughan-Lee, mostly because Sufi teachings have been fitting well for me lately, and audio books fill my hunger at times when I... should... oh, probably be meditating rather than keeping my mind full of... oh nevermind!

A n y w a y , here's what this teacher had to say to me, this morning:

"In order to fly a kite high, you have to have both feet on the ground. This is the tension that allows the kite to fly high. And I knew that that was something I would have to learn, because then my feet were definitely not on the ground. It's something I learned through family life, through having children, through all the difficulties of everyday life."

Apparently I didn't invent the idea of walking this path while grounded. Who'da thought? :-)

Thought for the day: Meditating for ten minutes only takes ten minutes. Meditating for a half-hour only takes thirty. You deserve this gift. (Yes, you. And we are one.)

On being a householder

Thu, 30 Aug 2007 17:14:35 -0000

There are people all around us who think that what they see is what is real, who forget that they are beings of light, embodiments of divine energy. Forgetting is easy, it seems, but it hurts so much that once the truth comes to your attention, it becomes harder to ignore. At least, it does for me.

I have long been struggling with what I can only describe as a resistance to accepting this incarnation. For a long time, for example, I had no interest in food. I'd wait until the body started complaining, then eat whatever was closest, easiest, to quiet it, and then move on. That didn't result in a very health-promoting diet, I'll tell you.

I want to float effortlessly through the spirit world, listen for the voice of god, meditate. But I am taking a new approach these days.

I am a householder. I am incarnate, and that is a gift, an experience I chose, and can enjoy. I choose to experience life, grow food, dig in the earth. I choose to engage with other incarnate beings and talk politics, to carve a piece of wood into a tool I can use, to build fire and to extinguish it. I choose to earn money and spend it.

As I study, I see that there have been many seekers and masters who have suggested that the path is only open to those who renounce their home, family, business and other concerns. A householder is seen (with a few exceptions) as someone who chooses earthly experience over spiritual work.

For me, though, I know that it would be easy to walk away, to begin walking and not stop. I have chosen to embrace being a householder, and embrace the path at the same time. I will blend the two, and learn something I can't gain from any book or guru.

Here I go.

Grounding myself

Sat, 28 Jul 2007 04:00:36 -0000

I neglected our community garden space this week, because we've had some rain, and some cooler weather, so I figured it didn't need me. When I got there, I discovered that rain not only waters the plants we planted there, but also the weeds. It's a very green, very weedy garden!

But there's plenty of food growing, and I got some, as usual. Delicious strawberries, onions, carrots...

But that's not what I'm thinking about. I'm thinking about how I keep making big mistakes in life, and it seems like the more I learn, the more new mistakes I make.

I've been working on learning to give myself a break when I need it. I grew up with the idea that tiredness is simply laziness with an excuse attached. It's only recently that I learned that I actually get more energy by resting. And yet, I continue to push too hard. It's a struggle every single day to remember to take care of myself.

And then, I am working on eating my wonderful CSA vegetables, and it's terrific, delightful. Then one day I find I'm too busy to cook, and I eat some drive-through crap. Then, it gets to be a habit again, and suddenly I realized that I haven't had decent food in a week.

It seems that I have to learn every lesson about 1000 times before it starts to stick.

And speaking of learning lessons, right now I'm going to work on the lesson about turning off the computer and spending some quiet time with family before I go to sleep. How about you?

My first hempfest. Heh. :)

Mon, 23 Jul 2007 05:49:00 -0000

I went to a hempfest this weekend. Here's proof!

I was helping at a booth supporting Ron Paul for president. If you haven't learned about Ron Paul, you should. Generally, I think politicians are all part of the problem, but Paul may be an exception. He's a good guy, and could really help to wake people up.