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The delight of shared opinion has long occupied minds everywhere. Discussion and debate can be intellectually vigorous, emotionally rewarding and just plain fun. Yet, as we examine relatively recent innovations of social media, something has happened to those good debates of old. They now seem more shrill, divisive and mean-spirited than ever. And, truthfully, this post adds just one more opinion on the heap…but please read on.

Of course, we must not succumb to the false nostalgia of some good old days of argued ideas. Let’s stipulate that opposing opinions have had their downside for as long as humankind has held them. After all, one could cite the history of warfare across centuries as an example of opinion and disagreement degrading to savagery. And, mournfully, there is no shortage of armed conflict to this very day.

But our current time and technology has added some new and performative twists to opinions expressed.  There is political theater with more bombast than substance; (sometimes empty headed) influencers and podcasters; X and Facebook, and opinions so pervasive, dark and fact-free that one must sometimes run for cover. Meditation recommended.

Before you grab your cushion, a couple of additional observations. The place to start looking at opinions is always with our own. Bias around confirmation is that trickiest of inputs where we screen out opposing views and welcome views that pat our own on the back. None of us has completely conquered self-deception, and those who think they have may be the biggest nitwits of all.

Young kids may be an exception to the problem of opinion. Children represent both the ultimate in egocentricity and innocence. True, that a preschooler knows a lot about me and “mine” (every other object is mine) in their sensory-based world. But it is also true that their purity of opinion can shine forth. What the pre-logical mind lacks in factual discourse is more than made up for by the most holy form of sincerity. See child opinions on Good and Evil; Santa and Monsters, respectively.

The rest of us could exercise some introspection and consider opinion corrupted by three factors: the poisons of Buddhist philosophy.

First reflect upon the greed of opinion as we collect and covet our own, like some miser and a pile of (fools) gold. We squeeze our views with such attachment that counterviews are not entertained except to double-down on our own beliefs. We become not so interested in understanding the other and obsess on the demand, “goddamit, understand ME”.

Next, observe the ill-will of opinion as we put forth our own with frustration, hostility and even hatred toward opposing ideas and the people that hold them. Grimacing countenance, tone of voice and that tight gut-feeling signal our indulgence of aversion toward others.

Finally, take note of the ignorance of opinion too often held with a complete lack of humility. We have to be right in relation to the wrong of the other guy. Imagine the vastness of viewpoints and the tiny, tiny speckle that represents our own. There is a lot we could learn from each other.

Remedy starts with mindful awareness and a life-long self-assessment of points of view. Where we see our own greed, we might bring the generosity of opinion and the suspension of judgment. This is not to retreat to eternal people-pleasing, but instead to fully listen, welcome and appreciate others and their thoughts. In the words from The Prayer Of St. Francis, we could seek less to be understood and more to understand. In fact, the entire prayer goes a long way toward informing the generosity of opinion.

Next, reflect on ill-will and opinion. It is stunning to let that in: a few cacophonous hours of the evening opinion/news, social media or even a family gathering will do. We are tasked with releasing our own aversions and, per that Priere pour la paix, invoking a little kindness and peace. And at that contentious family event, maybe a little love.

Lastly, take a deep breath to appreciate that we occupy Sagan’s tiny pale blue dot and yet suffer the delusion that our own ideas fill the universe. A little humility and with that, a dollop of wisdom, please.

Many of these ideas are not new and some of them are better expressed elsewhere. The Mindfulness Trainings of Thich Nhat Hanh are a good place to pause our attention. Thay’s teaching on the non-attachment to views and deep listening to others are a kind of salve to opinion gone bad.

Now, jump on that cushion.

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Across cultures and time, the family unit has delivered support, well-being, sustenance and security. More or less.


Much has been written about those positives and those negatives. Here, consider a particular negative quality and what might be done about it. Specifically and ironically let’s highlight that sometimes families less resemble the virtue of Sunday School and look more like like the antagonisms of Sunday Football.


That is to say, each family member becomes a team onto itself, competing against, even antagonizing the other: parent against parent, sibling fighting sib, children against parents and parents opposing their own kids. Strategies and alliances develop as one parent sides with one child against the other parent. Or the time honored tradition of a child splitting parental authority, going to Dad for some perks and Mom for others. Me-against-you is a model for the art of war, but not for the art of love.


What is going on? After all, should not the family be for the other members? Why do they so often (angrily) oppose one another? Let’s examine that question.


Imagine this: husband and wife, with a complete lack of humility, debate details of a shared responsibility (something monumental like who took out the garbage last). Each falsely believes that their own memory of the chore is a flawless video recoding of the event: It is definitely your turn! Research on memory suggests that while we are certain of our facts, all of us have a sometimes biased and often inaccurate recollection of events. Remembering that, partners could get a little less haughty, calm down a bit…and flip a coin. And by the way, it is never about the garbage!


We could pause any conflict and the earlier the better. Instead, we might give understanding a try. Not “dammit I don’t understand you” but with utmost sincerity, curiosity and kindness, “I really want to understand you”. Not just the words, but voice tone, countenance and breath. No huffing or puffing, just nice even breath. After all, there may be nothing more debilitating than to feel misunderstood by someone you love.


Parents teach their children everyday. There is modeling and instruction, sometimes softly and sometimes with a firm NO. Avoid creating a me- against-you moment. For example, not caring for the DVD collection could merit a required clean up and consequence: no videos today. But watch that delivery here too. Relax the frustration and edge, because children feel your feelings more than your words. Deliver these consequences with diplomacy and compassion: “no videos today, that will be hard…I hope you will do better tomorrow”. After all, when kids goof up, besides a lesson they need to know mom or dad is on their side.


Being a frustrated parent is hard but not an excuse to blow off steam at the expense of a child. That kind of catharsis is selfish- it might give a parent relief, but we have to do better. Instead, run around the block or chop wood or carry water. Invite the calm and then talk with your kid.


Parents could use the exercise.

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Let go and float
Let go and float

The autumn hymn
For dim days and each and every dying leaf.

Wind and rain, all push and pound and pull
A leaf, once fully tree,
then fully not.

Clinging? No. Just stemming,
just holding that branch
till perfect release,
decrepitude and peace.

Let go and float
Let go and float

Alight upon ground or grass.
Or road and tire-squashed.
Washed by rain or raked
In blessed decomposition!

Join soil and water.
Feed earth
and seed.
Take root again
In some future fall,
On some future tree,

A dying leaf.

Let go and float
Let go and float

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Our narrative mind thinks in stories, for better and worse.


Each and everyday we are the subject surrounded by the objects of our lives. These in-the-moment tales occupy the mind’s foreground with the plots and scenes of our protagonist identity in everyday life. We plan and problem solve; process and retrieve all in that foreground…we pay our bills, chat with neighbors and curse a red stoplight all in our here and now story. But there is much more to our personal tale than that.


You see, stories also inhabit the vast background of our cognitive life. The background is ground indeed, with stories rooted deeply into the archetypal soils of our psyche and revealed in the quiet moments of the wandering mind. There are stories upon stories all free-associating from one to another: dialogs, monologues, images, memories. Soft daydreams, challenges big and small, even dramas and tragedies propelled by deep emotion. Our tales review many, many yesterdays and countless imagined tomorrows. This mental autobiography of our past and future selves just seems to come from nowhere…and to there it returns. Careful observation shows multiple, simultaneous stories, disconnected narratives in a cacophony of thought. When the foreground recedes, this background naturally comes up to fill that conscious mental space.


Whether foreground or background some storylines invoke jewels of love, compassion, joy or serenity while others do not. These negative ruminations afflict us all and include fears, attachments, aversions and distortions. They often occur in relation to conflict, tension, trauma or depression. What to do?


Foregrounded ruminations could be captured, analyzed for irrationalities and replaced with logical alternatives in various cognitive restructuring strategies. While helpful, these fledgling positive thoughts may be subsumed in the negative stories that undergird them. After all, it is easier and simpler to swap out a thought than a vast storyline. Somehow we must dig into the background and depths of our narrative mind to honestly retell the troublesome, false and irrational scripts that influence our everyday thoughts.


Practice
Some meditation forms relax the storytelling mind. Beginning with acceptance and just noticing the breath. Storylines pass through…and we return to the breath, again and again. There are tiny gaps and even pauses in our narrative streams. It is a good start. And, as we will later discuss, a good finish.

For remediation of these deep, negative storylines, an additional, powerful tool can be brought to bear. We can invoke the ancient Buddhist practice of sending and receiving on behalf of our past and future selves. It is called Tonglen.


This radical practice flies in the face of biologic in-out rhythms for sustenance and breath. After all our life depends upon taking in nutrients and expelling waste. Similarly, for each breath we breathe in oxygen and out carbon dioxide. But this meditation gears all that into reverse as we breathe in the bad, the hot, smoky and toxic…and breathe out the good, the clean, healing and refreshing. Typically and wonderfully this practice is directed toward the aid of others; it can also be directed at our past and future selves. What follows highlights the past, in the form of a Child Self, and the future, in the form of a Dying Self


Imagine this: you sit with a strong erect posture feeling your best Self in the present, the reality of your innate wisdom and compassion, here and now. Feel the vast life-giving Earth below upon which you rest. Then practice this counterintuitive whiff: breathe in the hot, smoky poisons of the World; breathe in our collective greed, hatred and ignorance. Go slow; be wise. It is said the poisons do not get stuck. Take them deeper. See them descending into our compassionate Mother Earth, into the cold, dark soils below where they disperse and nurture new growth. For enduring dreads and atrocities, breathe them deeper down, past the mantle to the fiery core. As if from Shiva’s third eye, let those the flames burn up the poison. Gone. Breathe back to the Earth the jewels of generosity, love and wisdom. Breathe back sunshine, a cool breeze and dogs, tails a wagging.


Pause.


To your left, you visualize a child, your younger self (to start, just at any age that feels right). Next locate a specific negative emotion, often contained in a childhood memory, a story. Lean in to the child’s darkness, heaviness of emotions, tensions and thoughts…and breathe them in, slowly and deeply. As if a loving, brave parent, take on the tears and shames and rages fully. Hold them for a moment, for the child’s pain brings forth the most intimate compassions we could ever know. Now take it deeper, into the Earth, to cold soil or hot core. Gone. And then breathe back to the child the gift of fresh air. Breathe back like a cool breeze with your vow to be mindful- to protect and to nurture that child, always. Finally, exchange smiles, happy tears and love.


Pause.


Next turn your inner gaze to the right. And see yourself in old age, perhaps in sickness. Perhaps near death. Connect to your bravery, to your kindness here and now as you imagine your elder self. Do not look away. As before, breathe in the negative, the regrets, the fear and the resistance-all the way down and into the Earth. Breathe out a basic goodness that has been there all along; what is rational and honest. Breathe in despairs and grudges directed outward and inward, and breathe out forgiveness of others and especially oneself. Breathe in self-judgments and breathe out the karmic wisdom and acceptance of your flawed, wonderful life lived as only you could live it. Breathe in dying aches and pains and breathe out thanks and comfort to this vehicle of blood and bones that carried you every step of the way. Breathe out the radical acceptance of a human life coming to its end, bittersweet, but a jewel all the same. Breathe out integrity. Let go and float. Let go and float.


Pause.


Close as you began with a simple focus on the breath. Allow stories and thoughts to come and go…back to the breath, the here and now. Calming. This simple ending allows these new Tonglen stories to repose and assimilate into our deepest mind.


Over time, our stories retold seem lighter; not so very heavy and hardwired. Poisons recede as Jewels ascend. The child we were and the dying adult we will be receive these new stories with utmost receptivity and gratitude: stories retold in our autobiographical mind.

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The poet wrote:
Nowhere not,
Lost when sought:
This Moment.

The present moment…what a gift!

Of course, some would argue that the present moment is all any of us ever experience-it is, after all, “nowhere not”. But what about “lost when sought”-the seeking part. Could it be that we seek ourselves right out of the here and now experience? Maybe.


Sometimes we reject the present. Consider that gnawing feeling that whatever this moment holds is just not quite good enough; or the fear of missing out on other moments; or for many, the nearly constant seek-scrolling through social media.


And seeking is just one way the mind could rob us of this gift. We appreciate that there is the necessity of planning for the future and reflecting upon the past. But these worthwhile pursuits too often become future fretting and rumination over real or imagined past experiences. The present is lost.


One way to understand our dilemma is to remember why so many love trips and traveling. Most of us have experienced the satisfaction, the joy of a trip to a new place. It is educational we think to ourselves; it is cultural or historical or a window into others and their lives. All true.


But maybe there is another point. When we are in unfamiliar surroundings, something happens inside of us all. Senses are heightened. Habits of mind and body disappear to accommodate the excitement and freshness of our journey.


Simply put we are present. Sure there are moments when we become lost in thinking about schedules and tickets, but the novelty of travel alerts us again and again. We are freed from the tyranny of habitual perceptions and thoughts. We are fully, here and now…in whatever new environment we have entered. Besides the joys of new places and people, it is this experience of the present moment that delights us as we travel. So much so that some become quite obsessed with traveling and depressed at the thought of being at home.


These observations might present a slightly different way of looking at our travels and our time at home. Let us make the familiar unfamiliar again! Drop the habitual perceptions of home and see it anew. Acknowledge with gratitude that in an ever-changing universe, our home, backyard and neighbors are a little different every day.


The present, nowhere not…even from the front porch on Thanksgiving.

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Open them, shut them, open them shut them,
Give them a great big clap.
Open them, shut them, open them, shut them,
put them in your lap.


The classroom called special education holds labors and wonders and chants including this one with a hands-in-your-lap finale. This position can be a remarkable point of pause in the hands-busy lives of those students… and the rest of us.


You see, students in class learn life skills that most of the rest of us take for granted, as they pour a cup of juice or tie shoelaces. Hands dedicated to careful and slow pouring or tying is a thing of beauty to watch. To succeed, students like Dolores and Charlie and all of their peers paid rapt attention! And after awhile some teachers began to wonder: who is teaching whom?


What if we all sat still for a moment with our hands in the “pupil mudra”, simply in the lap? Or we could experiment with the symbolic hand gestures associated with various religious traditions like the meditative dhyana mudra: palm up right hand atop palm up left hand, thumbs touching. One could sneak the right hand from the lap to touch the ground even as the left hand remains in the lap. That’s the “earth witness mudra”–see the grand legend for that background story!


Pausing with hands in our lap invites a contemplative state. It sets the stage for the movements that follow. In fact, an interesting mindfulness practice is to simply watch our hands. After all, so many of our daily activities involve mindless hand-based movements, as we day-dream our way through pouring or tying or typing a sentence. We call it “muscle memory”, a kind of motor memory that joins the motor cortex with a part of the brain responsible for behaviors of habit. This efficiency, while essential, can lead to a lost-in-thought lifestyle.


Watching hands deliver these automatic actions now and then is to notice the miracle that we are. Next we could observe the thousands of similar automatic movements dedicated to eating a meal or driving a car or scrolling on a phone. Extraordinary!


No wonder that, in the classroom called special education, Dolores would exclaim in utter joy, “lets talk about hands!”

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Much has been written on judgment in contrast with discernment and this short essay may add little to that literature. But here goes:


We notice stuff. Our senses are constantly filled with input from the physical world around us and within us. So much so that we automatically select certain inputs, and habituate to the rest, all to minimize the overwhelm from our dynamic surroundings.


Sensory input becomes perception as we organize and interpret these data. One aspect of that process might be called discernment and one expression of discernment could be called judgment. Discernment is a function of mindfulness. It is fluid noticing from moment to moment. Judgment notes and solidifies; it takes a stand. Each has a place.


Judgment has numerous contexts and meanings from religion to law to medicine to the childhood admonition to “show good judgment”. Many of us failed that one!


Some religions have a final or last judgment as well as cautions about judging others; to stand in judgment. Clinical judgment relates to professionals in medicine, nursing and psychology, and a call for rational evaluation and healing. Law presents the archetypal deliverer of judgment, a judge. At best justice emerges from the rigor of good and fair judgments, and at worst, injustice ruins lives by fine or incarceration with financial and reputational harms done. Lastly there are the everyday, ubiquitous judgments of daily decisions to cross the street against a red light or wait for the green; to take an umbrella when storm clouds appear…or not.


Now consider the judgment of others. All around us we notice similarities and differences in appearance, opinion and behavior. And sometimes extreme and harmful behavior requires strong judgment and a hard NO. But in a world fueled by social media, cancel culture and our imperfect perceptions, too many judgments promote misunderstanding, a lot of ill-will and a big mess.


What if we paused instead and looked carefully, with discernment. It does not disappear the mess but invites us to engage and take a deep look. That judgment off-ramp is at hand, but we could hold off for a moment. It can be uncomfortable as we discern similarities and especially differences between people, places, things and situations. Resisting snap judgments allows us to fully engage with that experience.


The steadfast observer might persevere. Discernment after all is about noticing differences, suspending judgment and experiencing. It brings our wisdom and compassion to the forefront and gives a chance for our irrationalities and ill-will to recede.


We could wake up to our capacity to discern the world clearly and take a stand now and then. With practice, judging takes its proper place in moment-to-moment discernment.

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Tell me a story!

It’s a child’s plea whispered or even demanded (so often at the twilight of bedtime). These stories might be ancient or hot off the presses or made up by parents on the spot. But it is undeniable that kids need to hear those tales, featuring the irresistible protagonist who is none other than themselves.


And the tale so often invokes an antagonist and antagonisms aplenty. There are conflicts conquered, with lessons and morals and life instructions toward “living happily ever after”. Now that’s a good story!


With children, we do not need to explain how the mechanism of storytelling puts them at the center of every plot. They just know! Perhaps that is because our brains are story-attracted brains from the start. Stories promote life lessons, socialization and the assimilation of values. Such a brain has evolutionary advantages for groups, individuals and their progeny.


Story-attracted brains actually think in stories; we become the story. From early on we think in narratives that consist of thoughts and images often propelled by emotion. We remember in stories and we plan in them too. These capacities are an advantage to survival, and maybe sometimes, our happiness.


The story-oriented mind can bring people together with common cause narrations and shared advantage for all. Good stories. Of course, some stories pull groups apart. And competing narratives can and do pit tribes against one another with spats and rumbles and wars. Within individuals, negative thoughts can unleash stories of war upon the self. These can degrade to self-contempt and self-destruction. Lesser outcomes might include a bad day, un-satisfactoriness and deflation. Those are the bad stories.


Perhaps one of the most insidious, if not altogether bad, functions of stories is to inflate a compensatory, false self: “me, Me, ME”. Sometimes called our “storyline”, these ubiquitous narratives address deflation with an armor of conceit or worse: an over zealous selfishness and sense of entitlement.


Such a problem has led some to consider the alternative of inner quiet and no story at all. We could drop our self-serving storylines and engage fully with life on life’s terms. No agenda. No scheming. The trouble is most find it hard if not impossible to go from bad stories to no story at all. Those bad stories seem to grip us…and if we are honest, many of us hold on tightly to them too.


How might we proceed?


While difficult at first, we could start attending to good stories that reduce narratives imbued with automatic negative thoughts, and rest in our blessings. We nudge forward stories that promote themes of loving kindness, compassion, generosity and serenity. With imperfect but consistent effort those personal narratives slowly change.


What else? We could unplug from compulsions with social media and be inspired by the myths, parables, koans and chronicles that highlight our basic goodness and wisdom. These perennial philosophies abound across time and space, so we should pause and listen.


While bad stories anchor us to egotisms within and between human beings, good stories seem to calm us, even liberate us. We could be delivered, moments at a time into the serenity of no story at all:


that wonderful pause and silence at the end of every outbreath.

Hope is good, right? Wait a minute, I heard that hope is actually bad. Well, maybe not exactly.


Let’s just say that hope is tricky.


We could imagine that hope occupies a continuum stretching from no hope to high hopes. No hope, the absence of hope, is hopelessness, a state that social scientists have rightly associated with depressed states, even suicide. Surprisingly, some very wise teachers have suggested that we cultivate a mindset of hopelessness. But why?


To understand that as anything but utter madness, consider the other end of the continuum, high hopes. That is, through the ceiling, ultra-optimistic hope. As a temporary or lingering state, that kind of hope feels pretty good, even ecstatic. Such a mindset deserves a deeper look.


Most will admit that high hopes occasionally rendezvous with big realities and that great aspirations might be the very path to realizing those big dreams. It happens. But what about lofty hopes so extreme that our leaps become hard landings, half-steps and stumbles? We land disoriented and empty handed. There is disappointment…and discouragement and depression and giving up. Our hopes and expectations can become, not uplifting, but an anchor taking us down. That is the nature of false hope.


Perhaps, we have this continuum all wrong. The extremes of high hopes and no hope have their moments of course. But a better guide might be to start with honest hope. That kind of aspiration is basic and true. For honest hope we must summon our courage and rationality as well as our fundamental truthfulness as we abandon self-deception. It is unsettling to imagine that this approach messes with the continuum of hope we started off with. After all, the answer to hope may not be quite as easy as to keep it high or keep it low, and then go on auto-pilot.


Instead, hope seems more of a moving a target. We could abandon the delusion that there is some static bulls-eye and all the trembling that goes with the pressure to hit it.


This new conception of hope is as fluid as the blood in our veins. As light as the air we breathe. Our ever-changing life demands that hope be ever-changing too. Mindfully, we could begin to notice that there is a natural, dynamic relationship of hope to circumstance. Ever-changing hope is hard but genuine. As precious ideas about hopes high and low disappear, we might discover, moment to moment, honest hope for ourselves.

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This chance world of unfolding spectacle:
Exploding stars, eroding canyons,
Inclement weather
And that extra chromosome and unmistakable phenotype
Of supple limbs, protruding tongue
And those sweet almond eyes…


An accident that touches every cell
Of the body host.


Once like unfit runts, suffering, dying.
And now aborted or persevering into the
Caustic womb of institutions or into a world indifferent:
Save that special – olympic –weekend,
And us.


And we that live with them, and counsel them, and teach them,
Have a little time for the dark side and the Mystery.
Our passion is in helping. And so we help and help too much.
We hope for them, fear for them, idealize or dismiss them,
Become frustrated or intolerant,
Learn compassion and letting go…


And slowly come to know
That by their sacrifice and imperfection they teach us,
Move us,
Mold us.


A transverse crease upon the hand of God.

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