Dharma Talk: Bringing Meditation into Everyday Life

The following is a dharma talk I delivered on Sunday, November 11, 2012.

My kids and I enjoy going out weekly for Chinese food.  I always look forward to the end of the meal when the fortune cookie comes.  I am delighted when once in a while I actually receive a fortune cookie providing a little insight into life.  Several weeks ago my fortune said, “People in your surroundings will be more cooperative than usual.”  I immediately became aware of a familiar, unpleasant sensation of anxiety and stress in my body.   I could feel a tight feeling in my chest, my breathing became shallow and I could feel a knot in the pit of my stomach.  I thought if only this could come true.  If only people could really be cooperative.  I was going through a very tough and emotional time with several people in my life causing me suffering.  The stress of this situation combined with other expected life changes was leaving me feeling exhausted.  Healthy habits such as setting aside time to meditate seemed impossible to work into the busyness of my life.  Sometimes the act of sitting made me feel like I would jump out of my skin.  As a result, my Buddhist practice was feeling more and more out of reach. 

During trying times, it is sometimes good idea to take a step back and remember why we started practicing Buddhism and meditation in the first place.  Many of us seek Buddhism and start meditating as a way to relieve our suffering and possibly to reduce stress in our lives. Many of us came here to find solace during times of crisis and great sadness.  Some of us are looking for some type of life change.  We are all seekers in one way or another.  When I listened to one of Janet’s dharma talks for the first time the words resonated with me.  Buddhism felt good, right and a logical choice.  Finally, some practical advice I can put into action!  And, for an organized list maker like me, there are even steps!  Like many of us, I quickly learned all was not as easy as it seemed.  It is easy to become so caught up in the drama in life that we forget and struggle to connect with the inner Buddha that is in all of us.  We become consumed with thoughts of “if only.”  If only people would just cooperate. If only things were different.   

This week we are finishing the final chapter of the book Being Peace by Thich Nhat Hahn.  Thich Nhat Hahn, as known as Thay, has written a very practice guide for dealing with life’s natural ebb and flow.  His style is gentle and to approach all that we do in a meditative way.  Be present, smile and be compassionate to yourself and others.  In this chapter, he describes the Sanskrit term samadhi or concentration through the practice of stopping the invasion of feelings and thoughts which deplete our strength in meditation.  I was curious and did a little more research on the term samadhi.  Internet sources say that samadhi is a term used in yoga, Hinduism and Buddhism to describe the meditative process meaning to “become one.”   Samadhi in this context refers to the processes or steps to intensify and achieve the highest level of meditation.  The steps may different within the different Buddhist traditions.

As beginners to meditation, samadhi is best understood as a feeling of joy, peace and overall well-being.  For example, have you ever lost track of time while doing something you really enjoy and felt good doing?  This is a form of samadhi.  The highest level of samadhi is described as a state where there is no concept of time.  There is no concept of the ego or self.  It is an ultimate state where you are at one with the universe.   Some describe this state as being so incredible that you will not want to leave it.  For beginners, we start with the basics.  One of our basic practices in meditation is to focus on the sensation of breathing.  Should we become distracted with a thought or feeling, we let it naturally arise, without pushing it away or grasping a hold.  We stop and bring our attention back to our breath.  We do this over and over again.  This is the first practice taught to strengthen our meditation.  We may never reach the highest state of samadhi; however, through regular meditation practice, we can become more aware of what is really going on in our bodies, our minds and the world around us.  Much like working out at the gym, you practice daily, and you become much stronger building your mental strength and in turn, strengthening your concentration muscle.  

Thay describes many ways to bring a meditation practice into your life.  The most basic way is sitting meditation and creating a space to go to and sit in peace without distractions.  He uses an analogy of a child doing his homework.  He has to stop chewing gum or watching TV to be able to pay full attention to his homework.  However, my kids would tell you this is not true.  When I started meditating, I had visions of creating a very Zen like room, hardwood floors, meditation cushion and flowing curtains.   I think all of you have seen this picture in a magazine.  However, my house is small, so my meditation space consisted of sitting on the edge of my bed, lighting a candle on my bedside table and trying to ignore the sounds of Leo my parrot in the background.  This was like learning to ride a bike on a rocky path, but it was my best attempt at creating a peaceful atmosphere and space at my house.  Over time, I purchased a comfortable cushion and meditate on the floor.  I am comfortable sitting on the floor.  This may or may not work for you.  As part of my meditation, I slowly place my Buddha in front of me, light a candle, and wrap my mala beads around my wrist.  Feel more connected with the feel of the beads in my hand.  By the way, Leo the parrot has since found a new home.  The point is to find how to create a space you can go to regularly that suits your lifestyle and provides you a sense of peace.  In the book, Thay suggests going to this special place should you become agitated, step away and go sit.  This statement made me laugh because it is obvious he has never experienced having a small child, when even sitting on the toilet is not a private task.  Or, maybe sitting makes you want to jump out of your skin.  We are not monks in a monastery and do not always have the luxury of going to a special place and sit in peace. 

When we cannot sit, this is when other informal types of meditation can be useful alternatives to sitting.  Step away and try walking meditation.  On nice days, maybe go to a local park and eat your lunch in silence, followed by some walking meditation.  Be present, listening to the sounds of the birds chirping, feeling the wind, sun on your skin, and slowly lifting each foot feeling the earth beneath each step.  Try eating meditation or drinking tea in a meditative way.   Thich Nhat Hahn describes the process of spending 2 hours drinking a single cup of tea.  I don’t know about 2 hours---how about starting with 15 minutes?  Smell the tea, feel the warmth of the cup, really taste the tea and be completely present with only the experience of drinking the tea.  Maybe meditate while doing a routine task like standing in line at the grocery store, washing dishes, standing at a copier or brushing your teeth.  Try sky gazing—look at the clouds or the stars.  The point is to stop, concentrate and be fully present.  If you have children, have them participate with you.  Create the space and peace to put us in touch with our inner Buddha and get us in touch with our true self, our body, and what is really going on in the world around us. 

Not too long ago, a wise person named Janet said to me, “Meditation is like a pot simmering on the stove.  Let the pot sit and it will eventually boil.  Keep removing the pot and placing back on the stove, it will continue to simmer.”  I will add to this, take the pot off the stove long enough, it will go cold.  The foundation of our Buddhist practice is strengthened by creating a regular meditation practice.  Build strength, then, just maybe we can find that place of inner peace rather than becoming stressed, overwhelmed and hooked when life isn’t panning out like we want it too.  When we start to head down the path of “If only” we can stop, create space and allow our experiences to naturally arise and float by like a cloud in the sky.   We can remember and choose to respond mindfully and skillfully by letting the experience pass, without holding too tight to what we are feeling or pushing it down and away.  We can see through our story to connect with our inner Buddha realizing that things are not always as they appear.  We can drop the story all together to see the truth and the natural perfection in things as they really are. 

I will end this Dharma talk with a poem. 

Free and Easy - A Spontaneous Vajra Song
by Lama Gendun Rinpoche
Happiness cannot be found through great effort and willpower,
but is already present, in open relaxation and letting go.

Don't strain yourself,
there is nothing to do or undo.
Whatever momentarily arises
in the body-mind
Has no real importance at all,
has little reality whatsoever.
Why identify with,
And become attached to it,
Passing Judgment upon it and ourselves?

Far better to simply
let the entire game happen on its own,
springing up and falling back like waves
without changing or manipulating anything
and notice how everything
vanishes and reappears, magically,
Again and again, time without end.

Only our searching for happiness
prevents us from seeing it.
It's like a vivid rainbow which you pursue
without ever catching,
or a dog chasing its own tail.

Although peace and happiness
do not exist as an actual thing or place,
it is always available
and accompanies you every instant.

Don't believe in the reality
of good and bad experiences;
they are today's passing weather,
like rainbows in the sky.

Wanting to grasp the ungraspable,
you exhaust yourself in vain.
As soon as you open and relax
this tight fist of grasping,
infinite space is there -
open, inviting and comfortable.

Make use of this spaciousness, this
freedom and natural ease.
Don't search any further
looking for the great awakened elephant,
who is already resting quietly at home
in front of your own hearth.

Nothing to do or undo,
nothing to force,
nothing to want,
And nothing missing.

Emaho! Marvelous!
Everything happens by itself.

Oops! I Forgot Something...

I now know for a fact that meditation has changed my life for the better.  What better way to find out than to experiment and stop meditating regularly for a month or so?

Um, maybe not such a good idea…

The impact to my overall feeling of well being, my stress level and how I interacted with others has been very noticeable over the last few weeks. There have been times I sit mindlessly in front of the TV feeling anxious, not sleeping, overeating, and feeling completely sorry for myself.  As a past time, I find myself reflecting on trivial problems, events and things that someone said that upset me… so many things upset me.  Sometimes I for "fun" I contact friends and family members to talk with them about it all.  Talking about the same problem over and over helps, right?  My expensive meditation cushion has been suffocating under a heaped of laundry that I have not been motivated to wash.  There have been days I want to go hide under a rock.  I am sure there are days the people I interact with probably wished I would.  I have been in an official FUNK.

Everything has been magnified, and everything has been about ME. 


Frustrating that it is so easy to drift into old habits.  What triggers us to throw out good habits when times get tough?  Why do we not take the time to take care of ourselves and do good for ourselves during times of stress or when we are so busy?  Think of all of the time I wasted because I was not meditating.  It is during the rough times we need meditation the most.  I do not dare judge myself for my unskillful ways.  This is how we grow, learn and change. 

I am happy to report that I am back meditating again.  Getting back on track has not been easy.  There are moments of sitting where I think I will literally jump out of my skin and sometimes I anticipate meditating longer than the actual meditation.  I have noticed over the past few days the veil of uncertainty is becoming thinner and thinner.  I am starting to feel at peace.

My meditation practice is my little contribution to make the world a better place…at least for me and those I interact with on a regular basis.  Meditation allows us to reach that deep place within and interact everyday with compassion, kindness and wisdom in all that we do.  Something not to forget.

May you be happy! <3

The Things

There I was laid out like a corpse on the floor at the end of yoga class.  Shavasana is the meditation at the end of yoga which ironically means “corpse pose”.  My fingers feel the spongy yoga mat underneath me.  The feeling of being grounded, safe, and secure—I love you yoga mat.  There I lay while my dad was in the hospital dying of complications with bladder cancer and Alzheimer’s disease—just waiting.  Over the last week the entire family was paused waiting for him to pass.  I followed the instructors guide to focus on my breath—relax and breathe—be strong—hold your breath because this is going to hurt.  All of a sudden, he was there in my head.  His voice said “Tiny, it will be okay.”  “Ding, ding, ding,” the chimes of the bell brought me back quickly.  I noticed tears streaming down my cheeks.  He is leaving.  Please don’t end the meditation so soon!  I need to go back!  I received a call from my sister one hour later.  He was gone.

Just a little over a week earlier, I said my final goodbye to my dad.  It was early morning and I stopped by the hospital to visit him before I headed back home.  I knew this would be our last time together. I walked down the hall slowly thinking about what I should say to him.  What will he understand?  Will he know who I am today?  I do like not last moments.  Things like last moments of vacations and last days on a job leave me feeling a bit melancholy inside.  However, this was a last of a different caliber.  This was forever. Upon approaching his hospital room I stopped. I heard Dad pleading with the nurses about taking his medicine. In a little tiny man voice, he said with a kind plea, “You people are so nice, but please quit feeding me that soap.”  They were crushing his meds up in apple sauce and I am certain it really did taste like soap. My Dad--his worse fears coming true.  Laying in a hospital bed, frail and helpless, ending up like his mother.  Losing his coveted privacy and feeling helpless was the ultimate blow.  To have a group of people hanging over him and nagging at him, he hated this.  I would hate it too.  Here I was standing and watching him just like he looked at this mother a long time ago.  I envisioned myself someday as a tiny demented old lady punching out and biting the same nurses.  How can my dad be so kind right now?  Is this my destiny?  I decided to let him know I was there, “Dad, please just eat it so they will leave you alone!”  He looked up stunned to see me in the doorway and said “I know you!”  I replied back, “Yes, of course you know me!” and flashed him a big smile.  Of course he did—in a way beyond words.  In a way only described in "the things” we used to talk about.

My dad and I had a special bond when I was a little girl.  Between the ages of 4 and 9, we would go on walks together down the street after dinner.   We would walk slowly hand in hand and stop to look at the creek located at the end of the block.  As a middle child, I often felt lost between two siblings so this time alone with my daddy was special.  He called me Babbling Brook and  I called him Roaring River.  Roaring River would hold my hand and I would begin ask questions about the things.  “What is the hole in the wall where the door closes?” I asked. “That is called an Onionstein,” he said.  What is the little dip on my upper lip right under my nose called?” I asked.  “That is where God touched you,” he said.  “Where did the sky come from?” I asked.  “God made it,” he said.  “Where was I before I was born?” I asked.  “You were a twinkle in in your daddy's eye,” he said.  My dad would always come up with an answer and often it had something to do with that big and powerful man in the sky named God.  The man that was supposed to be everywhere.  At least that is what they told us in Sunday school.  That man we would pray to during the Jewish high holy days.  The man that must not know English since Jewish prayers were in Hebrew.  I pictured a combination of Moses, Zeus and the Wizard of Oz with a long gray haired beard with magical powers.  My toughest question, “Where do we go when we die?”  “We go to be with God,” my dad said.  Wow, God was creepy and scary! 

Those days of talking about the things were important times.  We stopped not too long after my parent divorce, but my dad and I occasionally reminisced about our talks.  It was at my dad’s funeral I realized that I had so many unanswered questions about "the things".  Things I have overlooked for too long.  Am I Jewish?  Where did my dad go?  What is God?  What makes me happy?  Am doing what I really want or what everyone else thinks I should be doing?  This may sound strange, but I found a hidden gift in my dad’s death.  It woke me up so I would seek answers to my questions.  For this, I am thankful. 

I initially started meditating and practicing Buddhism in hopes I would recreate the contact with my dad I had in yoga class. Was it all my imagination? Over time, this question has become irrelevant. The combination of meditating and practicing Buddhism stirred something up deep inside of me--my spirit. In a very short time, I have learned God is not creepy and scary as I made HER out to be when I was a little girl. God is my inner voice, my strength, my wisdom. For me, meditation is about being with God and Buddhism is a path to deepen the experience. It is about being quiet and listening to my inner voice and wisdom. Some call this process prayer. The term "God" is merely a label to describe the divine presence and energy within all of us. Where did my dad go when he died? He is part of me always. It gives me comfort to know when I really want to feel my dad's presence I can simply be quiet and really listen. In this quiet inner space lies the answer to all of "the things".