Meaning Blog

Yesterday I overheard a heartbreaking snippet of a conversation. I admit, that I am reading a lot into this snippet, being that it was only a tiny piece of probably a more lengthy conversation, and an even more lengthy story – but, a minds got to do what a minds got to do. So here goes.

I was walking home on another chilly NYC late afternoon and a man in his forties stepped out of a building in front of me holding hands with a young girl, maybe age 10. I heard the man say to this child,

“A failure…Failure. Am I a failure? Did mommy ever say to you that I am a failure?”

That was all I heard as we walked in opposite directions. My first thought was to turn around and say to the father, “That question is so unhelpful. Your daughter should probably not be in the middle of the drama between you and your ex-wife.” Of course, I realized that I was totally judging this man with no real understanding of the situation and kept walking.

As my mind continued to play the situation over, I started to think about all the negative labels we carry around for ourselves and for other people and scenarios. I have been here for about 6 weeks now and up until recently, when anyone asked me how things were going I would start by saying, “Terrible. I like the work I’m doing, but I don’t want to be in NY.” Somehow I decided that I had to reinforce the story that I was not content here. Knowing that I will be here until May, this is rather unhelpful.

It seems really important to me to weed out these deep damaging labels that I brand myself and others with. Our brains are meaning machines and will automatically fill in the gaps when information is missing. I see a person, and I automatically trust or mistrust them. I label them smart, scary, sad, or dangerous. There is a protective value to this process, and there is also a downside. Our labels create biases in our behavior and we can begin to treat ourselves and other people unfairly and without wisdom.

Awareness is not only knowing what your mind is thinking. It is also choosing to affirm or alter your mind’s automatic judgments. This is a skill that takes a lot of practice and support, and if we want a more compassionate world, now is a good time to start.

Many blessings!

Earlier this week I was taking a wonderful yoga class at a studio called NYC Loves Yoga . The class was rather quiet as the teacher was guiding us through an intense sequence of asanas. Personally, I was focused on my body and tracking my breath. Yes, I can be a Yoga goodie two-shoes . The teacher let out a little chuckle and said, “Whew guys, you are all so quiet! Don’t be so sad!” She then continued to teach.

Her words were very familiar to me as I have thought the very same thing when teaching Yoga or other workshops. I am so trained to judge positivity with smiles and good cheer that perceived solemnity automatically registers in my mind as sad, disconnected, and discontent.

In one of my past weekly learning sessions there was one student who most of the time sat with a complete scowl on his face. I see his face and my mind says, “He hates this and he hates me.” Inevitably, he would pop out a question that showed he was closely listening, intrigued, and wanted more information. I had to train my brain to reinterpret his facial expression as concentrated, not angry.

Our sense of personal meaning and the meaning we ascribe to a particular moment can be deeply impacted by our perceptions of those around us. Next time you catch a glimpse of a situation and fling out a negative interpretation, ask your brain to slow down and offer another possibility. Especially with people we do not know well, or with forms of communication that are mostly limited (phone/emails), it is so easy to misinterpret the inner world of another individual. With practice we can learn to keep our judgments open and less harmful. Good luck!

Many blessings!

(Photo credit: http://kidsplaceinternational.org/?page_id=16)

I get so excited about the changing world around me. I hope it is not limited to the Bay Area. The strong presence of transgender people is a hint of a nation of prophets, their lives ringing with the message – “Change is possible!” The wealthiest among us are being challenged about their controversial and potentially harmful beliefs. In past generations (and still in some areas today), could one so easily criticize a king or political leader especially in public without facing consequences? In some ways the world is widening its margins of acceptance, while in other ways a global culture is streamlining life through the electronic connections of the World Wide Web.

As we grow as a global community into fuller awareness of the world around us, we have a greater task of responsibility. How will we shape this growth? In contemplative practice, one usually begins with the simple act of paying attention in order to cultivate awareness and presence. We sit and follow the breath, for example, watching as thoughts, feelings, and sensations arise. We get to know our inner-worlds and see that really everything passes in its own time. Out of this truth wisdom comes – “maybe I do not have to push and control so hard, life has its own momentum.”

After a while of riding on this awareness, a natural question seems to arise – Is awareness enough?  If we see pain and suffering around us, does the simple act of seeing alleviate it? This is not a question that is answered with a simple yes or no. It seems that the simple awareness that has been cultivated purposely leads to this question. So we go back to our meditation schools and faith institutions and the practice changes. Now we are offered teachings to train our intention to layer on top of awareness. This way, we do not just become aware, but we become aware in a particular way. I am convinced that this dual or multi-layered approach is present in any faith-based practice. I am currently taking a series-class at the East Bay Meditation Center where we are learning to spark our awareness from the qualities of lovingkindness, compassion, joy, and equanimity. In Judaism there is a similar approach to character development called Mussar Practice, (www.mussarleadership.org). These practices help to reshape the “I” from which life is lived.

Another example that gets us closer to a global system model is in organizational development. As a start-up becomes established and successful, new staff is hired and a variety of departments emerge. Efficient and thoughtful managing staff will attempt to infuse the growth of the organization with their original mission and values. An expanding hospital still needs to heal people, not just serve more people. A religious institution should remain a place of connection to Spirit while moving to a larger building. Part of growth, on all levels, is to maintain the appreciation of what is core and simple while becoming more complex in other ways.

Thus, when we notice suffering around us, we do heal the world because we are maintaining the simple power of presence in a world that is growing ever more complex and complicated. That is a huge task within itself. And when we add the layers of ourselves as compassionate and kind people, we Super Size the capacity for these values to be infused within the social fabric of this expanding global community.  So notice the practice that you are already doing to increase your awareness with greater compassion and celebrate your steps (meditation, prayer, raising children, educating others, Yoga, taking care of yourself). Simultaneous Step 2: Appreciate other people around you who are practicing in some way too.

(Photo credit: http://www.123rf.com/photo_7905127_dark-silhouette-of-black-reaper.html)

In synagogues this weekend we will read the story of Jacob and Esau. I believe that this portion contains one of the earliest recorded existential conflicts and holds an important message about meaning. Here is the scene (Genesis, Chapter 25).

Esau, a young burly red-headed hunter returns from a strenuous hunt. He did not find any prey on this particular day and is feeling very hungry. He walks into his home and smells something delicious. An aromatic red lentil stew, his younger brother’s special recipe, is simmering on the fire. Esau wants some of that soup!

Esau: Pour into me some of the red-stuff for I am exhausted!

Jacob: You want my soup! Trade me your status as the first-born!

Esau: Well, I am going to die anyway, so of what use to me is a birthright?

Esau swears his first-born birthright over to his little brother. (Yep they are twins, but Esai came out first. If you know twins, or are a twin, the fact that one came out first can be quite an issue!)And the rest is history – the children of Jacob and the children of Esau become eternal archetypal enemies. Not so wonderful!

Growing up I always learned about Esau as the “evil twin.” He terrorized his brother and was stupid to sell his birthright – he got the “short end of the stick” that what was coming to him. This year, the response of Esau really jumped out at me in a way that I could very much relate.

“Well, I am going to die anyways, so of what use to me is a birthright?”

Personally, I ebb and flow in my ability to see the world as a meaningful place and thus my engagement in the world also can feel void of purpose. Experiencing life as meaningful takes practice and is not a simple given. The narrative of Jacob and Esau seems to take place in their adolescence. Can we actually condone a teenager for stating the obvious truth – Nothing lasts forever, so why should I strive for success? Think back to when you were a teen (or maybe just last Tuesday), it is quite natural to wrestle with this perspective.

So was Esau a boor or just someone who tended towards existential conflicts of meaning? Being a hunter, Esau knows that the world can seem quite random. On the hunt, you win some, you lose some. There is not exact reason why a swooping bird catches this rodent and not the one next to it. Perhaps Esau, in that moment was taken by this fact – even with a G-d in the world, things seem to just happen.

Introducing the perspective of the existential into this portion we see a dichotomy between a “Jacob way” of looking at the world and an “Esau way” of looking at the world. On the one hand the world is full of meaning that lasts beyond the life of one individual. The blessings from the past generations impact the present, and the actions of those in the present will shape the direction of the future. On the other hand, we are stuck in the finiteness of life. There is no continuity in the random unfolding of one generation to the next – Who will die, who will live? Who will be remembered? Who will be forgotten?

Un/fortunately, I think about these topics way too much and here is my short answer to this complicated dilemma. Both perspectives are absolutely valid (and there are many positions in between!) We can become skillful in knowing when to embrace the meaningfulness of a moment versus when we might tone down our own self-importance. For example, when your commitment at work results in the decay of your social relationships – it is time to evaluate the real meaning of your work. On the contrary, if you are having trouble making a decision, you might tap into your passions and intentions and remember that to live fully is to make choices that appear meaningful in a particular moment.

This week, I feel bad for Esau. Not only does he struggle to see his life as meaningful, but his shallow self-esteem is affirmed by his parents choosing his younger brother over him. We see that this begins a chain reaction whereby he chooses a wife that will specifically antagonize his father (28:9). His father, Isaac, was once Esau’s biggest fan. I want to suggest that this story teaches us an important lesson about how we can affirm or aggravate the sense of meaning of another person. As we see in the story of Esau, it can be the meaning of those closest to us that are impacted most deeply by our actions and attitudes towards them.

(Photo credit: http://www.artbycedar.com/blog/2008/07/08/cosmic-dance/)

Two days ago I was boarding a plane from Denver to Oakland. As I made the slow march down the boarding bridge to the plane, I overheard a one-sided conversation of a man behind me.

“I am doing much better,” he said to someone on the phone. “I do not feel sad all the time anymore. That feeling of emptiness … of what is all of this for … it’s a little lighter. When she left me, I just didn’t know what to do…”

I took a quick glance behind me and saw a man in his late thirties, sharply dressed, neat and clean. His face was calm and his presence collected. I was in utter disbelief that he would share such private feelings in such an open space. I was also feeling grateful to this man, who could so boldly share about his personal nightmare of despair.

I wanted to hug him. I wanted to slip him my card and imagined that reading some of my thoughts would heal him. I wanted to say, “Hey brother, I hear you!” And even the cliché words, “Don’t worry, it gets better,” came to my mind. Of course, I only know that for me it does get better, and then I feel lonely again, and then I feel supported and loved again. The dance of human existence between wholeness and emptiness. Not only the dance of the person, but I imagine that we are tuned into some larger cosmic dance of complete fulfillment (Shabbat), interspersed with utter chaos (6 days shall you work).

Sometimes, in moments of despair the only possible choice is to hunker down, acknowledge the pain, and wait for a glimmer of hope, of connectivity to reveal itself. We are generally very skilled at this process as we have exercised resiliency in the face of disappointment countless times. The failed exam. The rejection from a job opportunity. The lost love. So many lived experiences have stripped us of our inner peace. And yet, mostly, we continue to smile another day. Rumi’s poem, “The Guest House,” highlights this point exquisitely, thus I leave you with his words.

“This being human is a guest house
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.”

Many Blessings!

As I walked the streets of Mexico City, I noticed something quite amazing. On countless occasions, as I caught the passing eyes of restaurant waiters of street cafés, taxi drivers waiting for their next fare, or security guards casing the crowded streets, I was offered an enthusiastic, “Buenos Dias!” (or Tardes, or Noches – depending on the time of day). The people of Mexico City seemed primed to offer a blessing to any passerby. It gave me a feeling that no matter what political and/or economic turmoil is at play (and in Mexico there is plenty) the fact remains that each person has the power to uplift and support another. I tested this phenomenon out multiple times. Passing someone from behind, or as they were looking down, I would say, “Buenos dias!” And without fail, like a spring release catapult, a gregarious reply of  “Buenos!” came flying back at me. I think it is a challenge to always be primed to offer goodness to another, especially when we are feeling lonely or disconnected. Mexican people have tons of problems, yet they are able to snap out of their own limited stories to create an uplifting connection with another soul. I felt that there was a sense of family pulsing through the city like I have never experienced.

On Yom Kippur we are called together to spend a day in prayer and introspection. We take a break from eating, wear white, and wear similar footwear. Even between different Jewish groups (Sefardi and Ashkenazi, for example) where specific liturgy might vary, we commit to the same flow of prayer service. It is our sacred duty on Yom Kippur to help each other remember how connected the human community is to each other and with the world around us. On Rosh Hashana we crown G-d as king, and on Yom Kippur we crown each other as agents of Tikkun Olam (repairing the world).

We are taught that we take on excessive devotional practices so we might resemble angles and be closer to G-d. So what is an angel? One perspective is that angels are messengers that pass energy from the Source of Life to all manifestations of life. This is like the bio-electric charge that bounds neurons to activate our physical body. On Yom Kippur, when we take time to intend towards a more perfect world and inspire each other to do so, we are elevated to the status of angels. It is said that an angel has only one task to accomplish. Is it not true that no matter what dress our life story wears, underneath we are always tasked with the service of making the world around us better in some way?

During our daily morning prayer services (Shabbat and Holiday included), right before the Sh’ma we proclaim that the angels “give permission, one to the other to sanctify their Creator.” How perfect a metaphor for us this Yom Kippur to show up to synagogue, not only to pray for a good and successful year, but to give permission to each other to engage in our life purpose for the new year that has just begun!

This might be a difficult post. The gist is that we should have complete gratitude and respect for the body that enables us to live our lives. The reason why this is a precarious idea is because the honor that is owed to the body stems from the fact that it takes the brunt of all the growth that we do in life. Our body is our ultimate sacrifice and payment for being alive. One of its major functions and miracles is that it decays at an almost imperceptible pace. Every interaction that we have (positive, negative, and neutral) takes its toll on the body. When we experience and express anger, anxiety, even joy, pressure is put on the body and in a way it is wounded.

Today, when I boarded this Delta flight to New York City, which will enable me to take part in a joyful celebration, there was a startling sign posted in the jetway. There are possibly hazardous fumes in the jetway that can cause cancer. My heart and mind are full of excitement and anticipation, while my body, quite possibly is inhaling poison. I do not think anyone can live without incurring harm. I am not going to stay home from now on. Even if you lock yourself away from all any possible impairment, there is still a tremendous physical burden that results from loneliness.  What can we really do? As far as I can tell, at this point in reality, our bodies were not made to last forever. I am going to die.

Yoga, swimming, crying, and laughter are all tools that can incrementally wash trauma from the body, increase flexibility and strength.  The bodies of Tai Qi Masters still do not last forever. The decay of the body and  the cessation of it biological functions, what we call death, creates the possibility for a life that is full of meaning. Death creates the urgency to live fully. It is what most of us fear most that pushes us towards creativity, joy, and constant discovery.

Given what we put our bodies through, let’s treat our bodies with the most compassion possible. Celebrate your body.  Help others to rejoice in their own bodies. We might not know why we are here, but let’s choose compassion and appreciation for our greatest gift and teacher.

(photo credit: http://b.dryicons.com/files/graphics_previews/blooming_in_the_rain.jpg)

I think the Ego has received a bad rap in the development of our cultural “enlightenment philosophies.” The Ego has become a word that is used to point to something internal that must be tempered, punished, put down, or even nullified in order for us to fulfill a higher purpose. In my own readings I have found this usage of the Ego to be damaging. Though this might not be the intent of certain authors, it makes me feel that I have something sick that I carry around with me and no matter how much I try, I cannot fully overcome. I am no expert in Psychoanalytic theory, though it seems clear that the Ego serves an extremely important function in the way human beings interact in the world. The Ego is a function. It takes the base drives and desires that are most primal and enables us to enact them in a secure way that is connective to the people and world around us. The Ego is a tool of transcendence that elevates thoughtless impulse to meaningful action. Halleluyah!

As Ego is often equated with the Self, I think we can see the Self in a similar light. I try not to use the Ego/Self so casually and certainly not connected with words such as nullification or pathology. On a recent meditation retreat (Awakened Heart Project), the thought arose, “Cutting off the Self is like severing the end of an electrical cord.” Without an Ego we cannot access meaning or connect with broader states of mind – psychological or spiritual.

What has been feeling more integrative is to translate the New Age use of Ego/Self as the false sense of separateness, which is perhaps only one small sliver of the Ego function as Freud intended. I do think that our culture has become so individualistic that we struggle to empathize with the suffering of another without thinking “Thank G-d that is not me!”, nor truly rejoice in the celebration of another without thinking “Hey G-d! Can’t that be me!” There are times (not always) when this sense of being separate should be put down, admonished, or even nullified. Mindfulness is a compassionate way of keeping separateness in check.

My meditation teachers (most recently Rabbi Jeff Roth, Sylvia Boorstein, and Norman Fischer) helped me to see that separateness can be overcome by paying mindful attention to the accessible workings of the Ego/Self – the thoughts, feelings, and sensations that arise when you turn your gaze inward. It’s a jungle in here! Erratic pains and pleasures move and shoot through my body. Baseless judgments erupt attacking people that I have never spoken with. Moods swing like a dysfunctional pendulum. The insight hits home, “I have so little control over what is going on inside of me and it impacts my actions tremendously. This goes for everyone else too.” The walls of separateness melt against this tender connection when understanding that, as Sylvia taught, “All of us can mostlyonly act how we act.” In this process, the Ego/Self does not disappear. Rather it is affirmed and strengthened as an ever-changing process that helps us to unite our internal and external worlds.

Many Blessings!

photo credit (http://www.jub.si/en/about-jub/druzbena-odgovornost/)

Here is an excerpt from Viktor Frankl’s “The Doctor and the Soul” (Third expanded edition). It is definitely worth reading the whole thing and best read more than once. Frankl discusses an amazing practice of appreciating the time gone by and the dual nature between an individual and his or her responsibility.

“Time passed is certainly irrevocable; but what happened within that time is unassailable and inviolable. Passing time is therefore not only a thief, but a trustee. Any philosophy which keeps in mind the transitoriness of existence need not be at all pessimistic. To express this point figuratively we might say: The pessimist resembles a person who observes with fear and sadness that his/her wall calendar, from which s/he daily tears a sheet, grows thinner with each passing day. On the other hand, the person who takes life in the sense suggested above (without pessimism) is like a person who removes each successive leaf from his/her calendar and files it neatly and carefully away with its predecessors – after first having jotted down a few diary notes on the back. S/ He can reflect with pride and joy on all the richness set down in these notes, on all the life s/he has already lived to the full. What will it matter to him/her that s/he is growing old? Has s/he any reason to envy the young people who s/he sees, or wax nostalgic for his/her own youth? What reasons has s/he to envy a young person? For the possibilities that young person has, the future that is in store for him/her? “No thank you,” s/he will think. “Instead of possibilities, I have realities in my past – not only the reality of work done and loved love, but of suffering suffered. These are the things of which I am most proud – though these are things which cannot inspire envy.”

All that is good and beautiful in the past is safely preserved in the past. On the other hand, so long as life remains (transcendent life with a capital L), all guilt and all evil is still “redeemable.” This is not the case of a finished film, or an already existent film which is merely being unrolled. Rather, the film of this world is just being “shot.” Which means nothing more nor less then that the past – happily – is fixed, is safe, whereas the future – happily – still remains to be shaped; that is, is at the disposal of human responsibility.

But what is responsibility? Responsibility is something we face and something we may try to escape. The wisdom inherent in common speech thus suggests that there are counterforces operating in human beings which attempt to relieve them of their natural responsible-ness. And in truth there is something about responsibility that resembles an abyss. The longer and the more profoundly we consider it, the more we become aware of its awful depths – until a kind of giddiness overcomes us. For as soon as we lend our minds to the essence of human responsibility, we cannot forbear to shudder; there is something fearful about man’s responsibility. But at the same time something glorious! It is fearful to know that at this moment we bear the responsibility for the next, that every decision from the smallest to the largest is a decision for a all eternity. That at every moment we bring to reality – or miss – a possibility that exists only for that particular moment. Every moment holds thousands of possibilities, but we can choose only a single one of these; all the others we have condemned, damned to never being – and that , too, for all eternity. But it is glorious to know that the future, our own and therewith the future of the things and people around us, is dependent – even if only to a tiny extent – upon our decision at any given moment. What we actualize by that decision, what we thereby bring into the world, is saved; we have conferred reality upon it and preserved it from passing.”

Many Blessings! 

Finding Your Voice
August 12, 2011

Wisdom comes to us from every corner of our existence, even the darkest places. Below is a teaching from Rabbi Ronnie Cahana who is currently in the beginning stages of recovery from a serious stroke. His words come from blinking his eyes and the patience of his loving family who help to transmit his voice. The teaching below is an inspiration to me as it relates to a struggle for all of us to find our voice no matter what the challenge is. May Rabbi Ronnie have a speedy recovery and sustained love from his community and family.

_____________________________________

ברוך אתה ה’ אלוקינו מלך העולם מתיר אסורים

Blessed are You Hashem, Our G-d, King of the Universe, who releases the bound.

An uncle of mine, an Israeli gentleman farmer, liked to say, “Just add more phosphorus; nothing should ever stop growing.”  The latter part of the sentence still intrigues.  I certainly don’t subscribe to the notion that all of nature devolves into mulch.  Creation has more spiritual content than that.  No, G-d’s Creation gives meaning from the Beginning to the End.  Pursuing the knowledge of G-d at every juncture of life is the purpose of Judaism.  We must chase after G-d in every encounter and always distinguish between good and evil in cold nature.

Not long ago, our morning minyan (Jewish prayer group) took on a challenge at the breakfast to bring to the table our personal stories of deep Jewish wisdom.  Perry Lande, may his memory be blessed, brought a teaching that still impresses me.  He said that he was taught by his father, Shepsel, before he joined the Canadian Army, that HaShem gives everyone “four amot” to take care of—about 6 feet square in land and air.  If you keep yours b’seder,  in order, he told us, then usually everything comes out alright.  An ama is about 1 ½ feet—the distance between our organs and our limbs.   We measure an “ama” by our reach—the space from our elbow to the tip of our longest finger, which is exactly where we put our tefillin shel yad on while making the bracha of love to G-d.

Taking care of our own spheres is a deep secret of how we can tend the divine garden and make it perfect.  However, in times of crisis, we need to open our ”arba amot”  and reach out to others and for others.  No ordeal should be experienced alone.  How wondrously close all of G-d’s creatures are to each other and what an impact we can have in each others’ lives.  I know that I have experienced this miracle and beyond.  I’m asking for us all to expand our reach, even as I cannot find mine just now.

From this vantage at the Montreal Neurological Institute, I’m deeply inspired by our Jewish values. Our Jewish Community doesn’t allow anyone, any family, to feel isolated and our Beth-El family outshines my life.  As I am trying to find my own shofar voice—naturally, brokenly, triumphantly—tekiah, shvarim, teruah, (steady and broken calls) I’m calling out to shul in gratitude: tekiah gdolah (great strong voice). And please collect your wisdom stories for the shul, share them and forward them around.

We always read a specific Torah portion, Parashat Dvarim on the Sabbath before Tisha B’Av (Jewish day of communal mourning) to dispel the loneliness of the Hurban, the destruction of the Jewish Temple.  Moses cries to G-d, “How can I bear this people alone?”  How odd this statement.  He did not even want to start the mission.  You recall that he told G-d that he couldn’t speak, but, in fact, we never see this evidenced.  Moshe was the most effective, eloquent orator ever.  He was G-d’s mouthpiece.  How could he ever say that he was a stammerer?

The Five Books of the Torah are filled with G-d’s speech.  In Bereshit (the first book), G-d calls out everything in nature and gives meaning to Creation.  In Shmot (the second book), G-d names the People and gives us purpose.  In Vayikra (the third book), G-d calls us personally.  In Bamidbar (the fourthbook), G-d speaks to the Jewish People from the Ohel Moed (Tent of Meeting). Now we begin Dvarim (the fifth book) - Elu Dvarim - These are the words.

Moses does not think that he cannot speak; he believes that the people cannot hear or understand G-d’s meaning and the beauty of life. Moshe feels alone if he doesn’t connect Israel to G-d. We are imprisoned if we only have a relationship with our G-d alone. We need community to find G-d together.

ברוך אתה ה‘ אלוקינו מלך העולם מתיר אסורים

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Ronnie Cahana