The Mystery of Life

Easter is upon us.  Also Passover, Norwuz (Persian New Year),  and the Pagan celebration of Ostara.  And there is the Vernal Equinox and May Day and numerous other ancient traditions for recognizing the end to the dormancy of winter and the renewal of Spring.  The days are longer.  Even in the harshest of climates the temperatures begin to moderate.  New life emerges from the ground.  In this time of changing climate when daily weather details are particularly uncertain, Spring still comes.  The sun descends from our sky every evening and rises above whatever horizon we are able to view every morning.  This is the cycle:  life appears and disappears from our limited view.  We don’t know where life comes from or where it goes.  But we do know that it arises and passes beyond our control.  As George Harrison sang, “Life goes on within you and without you.”  Try as we may to effect the outcome, life does what it wants to do.

Certainly we as a species have improved the human condition.  We have recognized some causes of some diseases and found ways for some of us to survive them.   But new ones arise.  And even though people through the ages have hoped to claim otherwise, we still have no cure for death.  It faces every living creature on earth.  We don’t know why or what it means.  But we do know for sure that it will happen to all of us.  None of us know when or how.  This can be a source of great anxiety.  Or it can be a reminder that the life we are given through no merit or fault of our own is precious.

This past week a dear friend left this life.  He was a large strapping man who seemed to exude life.  Perpetually cheerful and generous he spread joy to all those he encountered.  No one who knew him could imagine him being sick.  Yet his illness came on suddenly and overwhelmed his human body in a very short period of time.  As some of you know I spent last year in treatment for cancer yet, for now at least, I have recovered.  So how does this happen?  Why does one life dissipate when another continues?  It’s not attributable to anything we understand.  Not talent, not genes, not strength or skill or pleading.  I refuse to use the war metaphors of “battle” and “fighting”.  It’s not about that either.  It just happens.   Accidents happen.  Illness happens.  Some bodies succumb; others survive.  Paraphrasing Alfred, Lord Tennyson, “Ours not to reason why; ours but to do and die.”

Of course I’m sad for those of us who remain here on earth having to continue to move through our lives without the physical presence of the friend and family member who is no longer with us.  Still I am so grateful to have been a part of his life and to have had him in mine.  At times it can be so difficult to remember to value those around us.  Everyone on this planet is just muddling through.  None of us knows what we’re doing here.  And that goes for every human being of every race, religion, gender or political persuasion in every corner of the earth where we exist.  It never ceases to amaze me how life in general, and people in particular can be found all over the planet in the most astounding circumstances. Once life appears, the instinct to survive is paramount and universal.

There are forces in the universe that we may never understand.  Yet somehow we need to find a way to accept and coexist with these forces as well as with each other.  Even if we somehow manage to tame some of these elements, we can’t make them go away.  We’ve all experienced losses of many types.  We fear disease, disaster and more loss.   The fear drives us to be suspicious of each other in the name of finding safety.  This is an illusion.  We all face the same challenges and mysteries.  But we are also resilient creatures who keep striving to find a way to make what we can work for us.  Maybe we can begin to recognize that same instinct in everyone around us even when the methods look different.  As humans we have an amazing capacity for cooperation.  Times of loss are an especially good time to remember cooperation works so much better than alienation.  Fear won’t save us.  But love can help ease the transitions.  My friend loved and was loved.  A noble legacy.

Adventures in Learning

redhirtclimber
Photo: Peg Ryan

There are few certainties in life.  No matter how much knowledge we’ve accumulated, it’s still safe to say that life is about learning.  One of my favorite song lines comes from Joni Mitchell’s Woodstock song: “I don’t know who I am, but life is for learning”.  So if you’re afraid to come to a class because you think you won’t know what to do, try to remember that none of us (myself included!) knew what to do when we first started.  Everything I do now is a result of trying, adapting and practicing.  There was no innate ability or talent.  Just a desire to learn and consistent effort.  Often in the beginning, and certainly as my body as changed through the years, I have had to accept the realities of my abilities and adapt my practice accordingly.  Surprisingly it is not that difficult.  I’ve been able to continue to benefit from my practice even though my movement may not look the same as someone with a different body type or capabilities.

For the past few weeks I’ve been suggesting that we reframe some of our approaches in order to let go of what has become the default reaction and allow ourselves a different experience simply by thinking differently.  So here is another opportunity:  instead of approaching a new activity with fear and insecurity, try thinking of it as an adventure in learning.  When we were children everything was new and unknown.  The only way to learn was to take that leap without knowing what to expect. Meditation teachers often use the term “beginner’s mind”.  This refers to one’s initial experiences with the practice when everything is new.  No preconceived notions.  No judgments.  No right or wrong. No expectations. Try thinking of your movement practice this way.  Start slow and simple and give it some time.  Stay with the experience rather than focusing on outcomes or even goals.  If something seems difficult, instead of saying “I can’t do that” try instead thinking “Maybe I can find a different way to do that.”  Make the movement smaller or slower or do fewer repetitions.  Try different approaches like bending your knees. Use your fists or forearms instead of your wrists.  Incorporate props like pillows or blankets.  There are so many different ways to make your practice your own.  Each day your experience may be different. Approach each effort with a “beginner’s mind” and allow it to be a new experience.

The bodies we inhabit are miraculous.  Each of us is a precise collection of muscles, bones, veins and nerves with systems that keep it all working together. Work with your systems and let them work for you. We have the incredible senses of sight, taste, touch, hearing and smell.  Instead of lamenting what you can’t do, remember all the things you can do and adapt what you want to do accordingly.  Celebrate your ability to move and breathe and treat these profound capacities with the reverence they deserve.  It’s never too late to try something new.