Santa Claus Mom

Dear Friends,

Happy Holiday Season!  I remember when my kids were young and my parents would show up at our house for Christmas.  My dad would still be turning off the engine and my mom would already be up on our front porch lugging several lawn-sized garbage bags filled with presents.  She truly looked like Santa Claus when she arrived at our house, with full arms and a huge excited smile.  I was never sure who enjoyed her arrival more, my mom or my kids!

As soon as she arrived, my mom would run out to Safeway to “get a few things,” and come back with bags and bags of groceries, many of them things that we wouldn’t normally choose, like bacon, sweet cereal, non-organic produce, and non-fat everything.  I remember how I felt when she would arrive with so many things, so much stuff, and I would get irritated at her, wishing that she wouldn’t bring so much stuff into our lives.  I considered my ideas about holidays, gifts, and food to be so much superior to hers.  I scoffed at the diet margarine she ate (too many chemicals) as well as the plastic Barbie houses she gave my girls (not eco-friendly).  I thought her purchases were too big, too gender specific, too expensive, and just too much.

On the last year that she came to visit before she passed away, my mom was filled to brim with gifts as usual.  That year, my son and I were getting ready for a January trip to Viet Nam with Thich Nhat Hanh for three weeks.  For my mom, it seems a trip to Buddhist temples in Viet Nam necessitated an L.L. Bean khaki fishing vest with about 45 pockets all around, because that’s what she gave me.  I don’t know whether she thought I would need to catch my own seafood, or whether she believed I had been hired as the photojournalist for the trip.  But needless to say, I did not appreciate the gift.  What was she thinking?

Sitting here now seven years later, I definitely know what she was thinking.  When she bought that fishing vest, she was thinking about how to show me her love.  When she filled the refrigerator with food, she was thinking about how much she loved our family.  She was always trying to give me things that I would appreciate, and I was unable or unwilling to appreciate them.  She simply wanted me to know that she loved me.  It’s what we all really want to tell each other all the time.  At the holidays we give each other gifts to express that love.  It may be cliché, but I think it’s true that it’s the “thought that counts.”  The thought behind the gift is love.  No matter what the gift, the act of giving is the gift.  Though some of us are more skilled at choosing the “right” gift than others, the giving is all there is.

As the gift giver, our practice is to try to truly understand our loved ones.  As Thich Nhat Hanh says, “understanding is love.”  When we are present with our loved ones, we are more able to intuit what they want and need.   As the gift receiver, our practice is to look beyond bizarre gifts and see into the heart of the giver.  While we may not appreciate the gift, we can appreciate the giving with a full and open heart.  And when we give something that the receiver doesn’t appreciate, we can see that we just didn’t understand them enough and aspire to understand them even more.

The poet Hafiz says this in his poem, “With that Moon Language”:

Admit something:  Everyone you see, you say to them, “Love me.” Of course you do not do this out loud, otherwise someone would call the cops.

Still though, think about this, this great pull in us to connect. Why not become the one who lives with a full moon in each eye that is always saying, with that sweet moon language, What every other eye in this world is dying to hear?

So all these years later, when my Mom no longer arrives at my front door, I am slowly, slowly beginning to appreciate the diet margarine, the garbage bags full of plastic toys, and even the fishing vest.  There really is no gift, there is only the act of giving.  In the same way, there is no life, there is only the act of living.  I regret that I wasn’t able to understand this when my Mom was still alive, as I could have given her the gift of my gratitude, rather than my irritation.

This practice leads us into gratitude by allowing us the ability to settle our minds and bodies.  Settling into the moment, we can start to see beyond the surface of material gifts, and notice the energy behind each act of giving.  And we can celebrate the giving rather than the gift.  Thich Nhat Hanh says that the miracle isn’t to walk on water, the miracle is simply to walk on the earth.  In the same way, the miracle isn’t that we received the perfect present, the miracle is that someone cared enough to give us a present at all.

I wish you the happiest of holidays, and may we all give and receive with Love and Gratitude.

so much love,

annie.
with love, annie

The 18 House Guests

Dear Friends,

I am sitting outside enjoying the sunshine and the solitude.  Our 18 house guests from the last week just left, and I am basking in the quiet both outside and inside my mind.  Amazingly, tonight will be the first night in 8 months where we won’t have any guests staying at our house.  I thought that at this moment I would feel exhausted and relieved, which I do, but I will also miss the community and connection that comes when we share our daily lives with others.

I have always considered myself an introvert — someone who needs a lot of time absolutely alone in order to recharge my energy.  And so when I began to practice yoga and mindfulness, I did so in a very self-contained way, doing things in my own way, rarely reaching out to make friends in classes or meditation groups.  I didn’t feel that I needed to have connections with other yogis, that I could do my practice by myself, alone both at home and in class.  When I socialized with other yoga or mindfulness friends, I often felt that I had to “be a yogi,” some unattainable idea of a person with a perfect heart, mind, and body.  To accomplish that, I had to try to control how I was seen by my new friends, and I had to behave in ways that weren’t authentic.  No wonder I preferred to practice alone.

So I never really thought of myself as someone who would enjoy having a lot of people staying in our house, eating our food, breaking dishes and moving stuff around, especially given that most of them were Buddhist monks and nuns.The good news was that since they were practicing mindfulness they were mindful guests.  The bad news was that since they were practicing mindfulness they triggered my mindfulness insecurities (I noticed how often I slam drawers and doors!)  But part of what the practice has taught me is that being with, even living with, others doesn’t have to be so difficult.  One of the three jewels that the Buddha spoke of, is the sangha, or the community that practices together.  Thich Nhat Hanh suggests that we try to “flow like a river” with the sangha, remembering that we are just one drop in the ocean of life, just like every other person:

With each step, I am aware that I am not a solitary drop of water but am part of a larger river. With mindful breathing and steps, I produce the energy of mindfulness of the Sangha.  I open my body and mind so that the collective energy of the Sangha can enter me, protect me, and help me to gently flow along like a river, harmonizing myself with everything that is.

Practicing like a river means letting go of trying to control ourselves and others.  We are just one of many drops in this river, and we can see clearly our small part.   When we need to let go of something, we can trust that the trillions of other drops will carry us along.  If we feel too sick or tired to come to yoga, we stay home, and trust that many other yogis are practicing for us.

A disciple of the Buddha once suggested that half of the holy life was spiritual friendship. The Buddha replied that spiritual friendship is actually the whole of holy life.   Having friends who practice with us gives us so much.  Having the 18 spiritual friends at our house was a constant bell of mindfulness reminding me to walk mindfully, do the dishes mindfully, and speak mindfully.  Having a friend who practices yoga or mindfulness gives us the opportunity to discuss questions we have about our practice and share insights, all of which helps deepen both our practice and our friend’s practice.

When we drop our habitual self and other-judgment, then sharing our practice with other yogis is easy and produces a lot of joy.  Practicing like a river allows us to truly relax and enjoy each other’s company.   We don’t have to try so hard.  Think about the 18 people, or one person, or even one animal, whom you could tolerate moving into your house tonight, and that will help lead you to your true sangha.  Do we have community who truly supports our practice?  Are there friends at the studio who we consider part of our sangha?  As we each create our own small community of practice, together we strengthen the larger sangha, allowing all of us to float easily down the lazy river of life.

with much love to this beautiful sangha,

annie lake.

 

with love, annie