compassion

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The Kid

I just watched a Bruce Willis movie, called “The Kid”.  I enjoyed it, though it may be a bit saccharine for some – and yes, I did cry at the happy ending.  It’s a story of a bitter and spiritually dead but incredibly wealthy image consultant who meets his eight year old self, and has to relearn things about himself in order to save himself from a lonely end.  It also showed us that we should never forget our child self, and the dreams that child self had.

What did I want to be when I was eight years old? I can’t quite remember, and I’m not even sure that I thought that far ahead when I was eight.  If I did, I’m pretty sure that I would have wanted to be a fairy elven princess living in a castle in England.  Well, eight year old self, I didn’t do too bad. I’m a Druid living in a beautiful house in the English countryside – it’s pretty close.

What would I say to my eight year old self? Yes, there were rough spots and there were glorious spots.  There were heartbreaking tragedies and uplifting victories. There were mistakes and compassion, beauty and ugliness, and everything in between.  But it all turned out good.

In the movie, the 40 year old self and the eight year old self then meet the 70 year old self.  So, I wonder what my 70 year old self would say to me?  I hope that I have made that person proud, as proud as my eight year old self.  I would hope that life would be filled with love and compassion, and that I would never stop dreaming; never lose that eight year old self.

What would your eight year old self say to you?

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The Nature of Prayer

A television show that I enjoy, which originally aired in the late 90’s through to 2002, is Dharma and Gregg. It is about a free-spirited woman with two hippy parents who is very spiritual, very loving and very funny. She marries a conservative born and bred lawyer, and the exchange and growth between the two is what makes this such a great show.

At one point Dharma is praying in a hospital chapel, and her spirit guide, a Native American named George whom she connected with personally before he died, comes to her aid and offers advice in her time of need. He hears her praying, having a conversation with whatever deity will listen, and offers these very poignant words which I remember to this very day.

“So, you’re having a conversation with the Great Spirit, the Creator of All Things, and you’re doing the talking?”

This, indeed defines for me the nature of what prayer is seen as today. Even if we are not asking for anything, a lot of prayer consists of a one-way conversation between the individual and the deity/spirit in question. Prayer is a relationship, for me – and as such necessitates a give and take in everything, including both spoken and unspoken words. Too often in prayer, we forget to listen.

Have you ever had to listen to someone go on and on, and know that they are simply enjoying their own drama? If someone comes to you and asks sincerely for advice, then they will tell their tale and then listen – otherwise it is simply a self-indulgence that is ego-based. Communing with deity means a communication from both sides.

Prayer is also not something done only in times of need. How annoying is it when a friend only comes to you when they need something? A good relationship is being there for someone, to listen and aid a friend, and with a Zen attitude, not expect anything in return. This is a huge ask. I’m not terribly great at it – I still have some expectations, though I am working on the philosophy behind the Zen attitude. I’ve had friends that only take from you, physically or spiritually, and give nothing back. It isn’t nurturing, and that is the main difference, I think.

For relationships don’t simply happen – they do require nurturing and attention, kind of like a houseplant, when I come to think of it. There are some friends who I don’t see for years, due to distance, but when I do see them it is like no time has ever passed, no miles could ever come between. It is because these friends nourish me, as I hope I do for them. It is the same with the gods – some I haven’t communed with for years, but they still hold a special place in my heart, which is renewed upon experience. I sincerely hope this doesn’t sound too self-centred.

I’ve since dropped the friends who are no longer nurturing, who only have their best interests to heart. I have been used by several people, and it’s never nice. The same goes with any deity – I will not pray to any god or goddess who is simply in it for themselves. I seek wholesome, nurturing relationships with my gods, my friends and the environment – it is part and parcel of being a Druid.

So what is the nature of Prayer? The nature is to nurture. It is to establish a connection that sustains everyone involved and which makes this world a better place. It is a give and take, listening and responding, with honour and with integrity and to the best of our ability.

Life itself is prayer.

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The benefits of meditation

Sitting in meditation with awareness transcends into every aspect of your life. I know it has done mine. It’s so hard, and yet so simple – simply to sit for at least 15 mins to half an hour each day, in total awareness.

At first it’s really hard not to fidget – trying to get comfortable, the mind is doing everything it can to move the body so that we don’t have to feel this very moment, in all its glory or mundaneness. That is my biggest hurdle – the sitting still part. Sometimes I simply can’t, and then a walking meditation will take the place of sitting meditation. However, the importance of keeping that butt on that cushion should not be underestimated.

Forcing myself into stillness, I can then imagine a rock being thrown into a pond – it settles to the bottom of its own accord, and find the stillness. Then, it is time to simply “be” in the present moment. Feeling the tension in my shoulders, hearing the wind howl outside, thick with snow. Hearing the central heating come on, the soft padding of a cat entering the room. Smelling the incense, seeing the light of the candle upon my altar. For a few, brief moments, it is blissful and relaxing.

Then come the thoughts – anyone who has ever tried to meditate knows the flurry of thoughts that will fly through your head at any given moment. It can sometimes be a Herculean task to just sit when all these thoughts are going through your head – if you’re moving, you don’t have to think about them, or notice that they are passing through your head with lightning speed. But sitting still and facing all these thoughts – it can sometimes seem futile. I’ve heard so many people say “I can’t meditate – I can’t turn off, switch off; I keep thinking a million things”. You’ve got to persevere.

So, in sitting meditation, in zazen, we don’t try to push away all these thoughts – what we learn to do is to become the observer. It’s all about noticing the thoughts that go through the mind, without attaching to them and becoming lost in them. As soon as we attach to them, we’ve lost our awareness, our sense of being an observer – instead we are a willing or unwilling participant in them, and the benefits of meditation we will rarely see.

So, with all these thoughts whizzing through my head, I become the observer. I notice that I’m thinking about the belly dance show that I’m putting on in October, that I have to start dinner soon, that a friend hasn’t been in contact for months, that the car windscreen has a sticky annoying film on it that just won’t go away – noticing the thoughts without going into them – which is supremely difficult for some thoughts. And I am not always successful either, but I eventually do catch myself getting absorbed in the thoughts at some point, and bring my attention and awareness back into the room where I am sitting in front of the alter, with the candle and incense and cats sleeping around me.

Slowly, the more and more I meditate, the less and less I become absorbed in these thoughts. However, we all have good days and bad days. But I have found when I don’t meditate for a few days, I can and do get lost in my thoughts, creating drama out of them, or becoming easily annoyed with myself or other people around me – losing that sense of connectedness, compassion and empathy. For the benefits of sitting meditation carry through into all aspects of life – seeping through like springwater into the surrounding areas, benefiting all with its nourishment.

The more I do zazen, the less irritable I am (though again, we all have good days and bad days). I notice tension in my body more throughout the day. I notice when I am being self-centred, and when I am losing myself in the drama that I have created to give my life more importance. Sitting meditation makes you realise that all this drama is self-created to a large extent. While some tragedies can still occur, the correlating attachment to them will be lessened, and life flows that much easier even in the midst of major trauma or upheaval.

You have to want to meditate. People who say they cannot perhaps haven’t tried hard enough, or don’t want it enough in their lives. You have to be willing to commit to a certain amount of time and effort each and every day, and also to a commitment not to change yourself, but to become better aware of yourself, and by doing so, flow through life better. Obstacles will still be there, but like water we can flow around them instead of slamming into them again and again, never getting any further along the way.

Your life will become more active, and less reactive – instead of reacting to every situation, you can act with empathy and compassion; your ability to respond well increases each and every day. It is a responsibility – the ability to respond. It is also learning discipline, to sit when you don’t feel like it, to be aware of your body when your mind and body both are rebelling against it, and would rather be in the made-up world of your mind instead of sitting in the reality of the here and now.

Slowly, that awareness gained through sitting meditation will affect everything you say and do, for the better. The goal is not self-improvement, however – the goal is to be in the here and now, this very moment in this very life, and to see the joy and wonder that it truly is. We are gifted with long lives, should nothing unforeseen happen, and minds that can be trained back into awareness – let’s use them to the best of our ability. By doing so, a sense of connection to the here and now, to all the beautiful life around us, will be achieved – which makes it worth the effort.

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Ritual Importance

Is ritual important? Many Druids perform ritual on a fairly regular basis – at least the seasonal rituals that celebrate the turning of the wheel of the year. Many also honour the phases of the moon, in whatever aspect, whether it be quarter, half, full or new. There are also some for whom daily ritual gives special meaning to their lives and their loves – the rising or setting of the sun and moon, for instance, or saying a prayer of thanksgiving or a blessing before partaking of food and drink. But is it all that important?

I suppose that it is all based on the personal relationship to the natural world around us. For some, daily ritual helps to connect with the rhythms of life that might not otherwise be apparent – say, especially if you are living in the city, and it’s hard to hear the blackbirds at dusk above the din of rush-hour traffic, or aren’t able to see the sun or moon rise due to buildings blocking the way. For others a daily ritual isn’t that important, for they already feel much more connected simply in their living circumstances – for instance, a friend of mine, fellow author and blogger Nimue Brown, lives on a boat and is very much connected to and at the mercy of mother nature. It’s akin to a friendship, in a sense – sometimes your friend lives far away, and you have to make a special effort to keep in contact with her. Sometimes your friend lives right next door, and it’s much easier to keep in touch.

In Zen, regular daily practice of sitting meditation carries through into other aspects of our lives, where we bring awareness into everything, and in doing so taking away the illusionary drama and seeing reality for the wondrous gift that it is. It requires discipline, however – to sit through the boredom, to sit when we don’t feel like it, to be aware when we’d rather be daydreaming. Yet this discipline is, as I have found out, necessary for clarity.

I haven’t meditated for a week now, and I am feeling the difference. That daily ritual, of sitting down and spending half an hour each and every day in awareness really did permeate into the rest of my life. I didn’t become lost in attachments to emotions – I still had feelings, but they didn’t linger and cause as much suffering as before. When taking the time out to stop and meditate and be aware for a designated point each day was given up, those attachments came creeping back in. I was spending more and more time in my own head than in the real world.
Druid ritual can do the same for us, in keeping us connected to our spirituality, whatever our circumstances. Too easily we can become lost in our own worlds, realities that we have created out of our emotions and thoughts. Ritual can say “hey, look – enough. Stop. Look at what’s really going on around you. Hear the stag calling. Hear the aeroplane. Watch the sun rise. The world is more than just you”.

With Druid ritual, we gain inspiration from the natural world around us. That is what Awen is – an insight into nature, the nature of the world around us and our own human nature in turn. By doing Druid ritual we take the time to pause, to reflect, to take in that inspiration so that we may exhale it with love and compassion back into the world.

So, is ritual important? I think so – even if we use the friend analogy, ritual keeps us from taking it for granted. It brings awareness and that magic back into our mundane lives no matter what our circumstances are. No matter where we are in life, taking a moment to stop and simply be in the moment can help us gain inspiration and insight, and to also give back with thanks for all our blessings that we receive in this equally mundane and magical world.

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Defeating the Goblin King

Dreams
I’m a big David Bowie fan, after having fallen in love with him as a young teenager, watching Jim Henson’s film, Labyrinth. He played the Goblin King, a creature who was used to getting things his own way – he was all powerful, and the Labyrinth was his to control. Or so he thought.

It’s a wonderful tale, of a young girl coming into adolescence, of learning that life is not always what it seems, and that life is unfair. It’s also about making friendships along the way, about being kind and also familial obligations. There are so many ways to interpret the film, and I thought to look at it from a Zen point of view. It was interesting.

Our thoughts often control us, without our even realising it. These thoughts, these intangible things, have so much power over our lives. We believe in our thoughts so much, and hold to them so much. We hold on so tightly to our thoughts, and to ourselves. Who would we be without our thoughts?

Yet in Zen we try to realise the control that our thoughts have over us, by acknowledging them, by becoming the observer. Bit by bit, as we sit in meditation and go through our daily lives, we begin to see patterns emerging. We may have a thought about ourselves – I’m artistic. We tell everyone that, reinforcing that thought. Yet that is not all that we are – we may be good with animals, gardening, maths, etc. The repetitive thoughts, the ones that we say over and over again to ourselves, become a reality for us. Yet they are still thoughts, not reality. There is no substance to them.

Of course, not all thoughts are bad. We need to think, to work out problems, to get out of bed in the morning even. It is in the attachment to the thoughts that gives them a false substance, a false reality. It also can give us great pleasure, living in this fantasy land of our thoughts – it means the hardships of real life cannot affect us there. We are safe, in the bubble of our thoughts.

Most of us spend a lot of time being controlled by our thoughts – we never even realise it. Much like Sarah, the protagonist in the film, was being controlled by the Jareth, the Goblin King without her knowledge, we aren’t even aware of the power that they hold over us. They make us run around in circles, not getting anywhere, simply thinking, thinking, thinking – where is the doing? Where is the experience? We get angry at someone, and have a thought about that. Then we attach to that thought, and it can affect us for the rest of the day, week, year, or our entire lives. We all have emotional responses to situations, and thoughts about everything – but the attachment to them is where stumble and fall on each and every step. There is no progress – we’ve fallen down the oubliette of our thoughts until we are completely trapped in a small, dark and confined space.

Instead of simply experiencing the anger and then letting it go, we’ve become a prisoner of our thoughts about the situation. And all the while, the Goblin King laughs to himself, safe in his tower, loving to watch us run around in circles as the sands of time run out.

When we sit in zazen, however, we begin to notice our thoughts, our patterns of behaviour. By being the observer, we can take a step back from our thoughts and look at them without attaching to them. We can see the physical manifestations of them in our body as well – a contraction in our jaw, the hunching of our shoulders, our heart beating faster. By becoming aware, of thoughts, and indeed, of all our surroundings, we are better able to respond to situations than before. Sarah didn’t see through the illusion for a long time in the film – even though she was reminded by other characters, time and again, that nothing is what it seems. Slowly though, the illusion wavered, and the cracks in the false reality began to show. The bubble was broken, and Sarah was somewhat freed, for a time. When she finally saw through the illusion fully, and took the great leap into the unknown, literally and figuratively, that’s when she was able to come face to face with the Goblin King himself, to bring him out of hiding and face him in a final battle.

So, after much practice in zazen, after much meditation and time spent being the observer to all the thoughts that run around in our head, without getting caught up in them, we face them down. We say “enough” – we are not going to be controlled by them any longer. We see the thoughts for what they are. The thoughts fight back, with everything that they’ve got – Jareth holds out the most potent, alluring thing that we all hold so dear – our dreams. He offers them to Sarah, but Sarah now sees through the false reality. She then recites the final lines from her book back to the Goblin King, saying the powerful, magical words that will defeat him.

“Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, I have fought my way here to the castle beyond the Goblin City, to take back the child that you have stolen. For my will is as strong as yours, and my kingdom is as great. You have no power over me.”

Those six words – “you have no power over me” is what can release us from the labyrinth of our minds, from the traps that our thoughts can create when we attach to them. We suddenly become free, to experience, to return to our pure self, to break loose of the chains and to truly live life to the fullest.

So, the next time we fall into despair, wishing our lives were different, we can simply say those six words – you have no power over me. When our minds are rushing around as we try to meditate, we simply observe them without getting caught up in them, and repeat you have no power over me. When someone says something nasty to us, we feel the emotion, we react (hopefully with compassion) and then we let the experience go, without attaching to it, simply by saying you have no power over me.

Then and only then can the Goblin King be defeated, and we freed from the labyrinth of our minds.

Though, I must admit, I’m sure some of us would prefer to stay in there with David Bowie 😉

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Druidry and the Ten Bulls

The Ten Bulls is an illustrated poem used by followers of Zen Buddhism to explain the search for enlightenment.  For me, it also represents the search for meaning in my own Druidry and indeed, in my own life in general.  It can be applied to everything, but for the purposes of this blog I’ll stick to Druidry. To see the Ten Bulls, otherwise known as the Ox-herding pictures, you can follow this link:- http://www.sanbo-zen.org/cow_e.html.

The search for enlightenment, the search for the Self and meaning is a major part of any religion or spirituality.  What will explain that sense of something missing, that lacking? What will fill it, or guide us to fill it in? What will help us to realise our full potential and live according to our True Self?

For me, this has been blending Zen with Druidry, and in the Ten Bulls can be encapsulated quite neatly.  They are, as follows:-

 1.In Search of the Bull

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When we first come to Druidry, we do not really know what it means, for there are no long-established formal schools or training that we know of.  We can look to history, and then find out about courses now offered in Druidry through various organisations, but is this Druidry? It is certainly a version of it – Druidry is what it is, to each and every person. Moreover, to each and every person, it is different, yet still falls under a single banner. Confusing? Hell yeah. In a way, I think it’s meant to be. It encourages us to get out there, and find out more – beginning the adventure.

 

2.Discovery of the Footprints

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We have begun our adventure, and are searching now for what Druidry is.  We catch glimpses of it in the works and writings of others, yet we still have not experienced Druidry for ourselves.  Like the wind, we can’t see it, we can only see its effect on other things.  We continue and go deeper into our Druidry to find out what it really is.

 

 

 

 

3.Perceiving the Bull

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We’ve caught a glimpse!  We’ve had an insight into what Druidry is – we know that we’re now on the right path in our journey of self-discovery. Yet it is still not entirely clear – the experience is not yet full.  We run after the bull in the hopes of understanding.

 

 

 

 

4.Catching the Bull

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We’ve found our Druidry!  After many twists and turns, we’ve come across a path, or developed our own, that seems to flow with the essential spirit that we call the Self.  We may find several bulls, even, until we find the right bull, but eventually we come across a method, training, or experience that reflects our inner core. We harness that energy, but what do we do with it now?

 

 

 

 

 

 5.Taming the Bull

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We learn that knowing what Druidry is, is simply not enough. We must practice with it, again and again, experience it and not simply read about it.  We hold rituals, we meditate, we get our fingernails dirty.  We do the work necessary, and learn discipline.

 

 

 

 

 

6.Riding the Bull Home

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This is Druidry! This is what it means, and it is a joyous expression of our inner souls.  We have a sense of “coming home” – we know how to celebrate the seasons and each other, and we may find the beginnings of an inner peace hitherto unknown.

 

 

 

 

 

 7.The Bull Transcended

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We then realise that Druidry is not something external, nor even internal – that it is something to be lived.  There is no separateness, no duality to Druidry – it is not a way of life, but it is life itself.  There is a stillness to it.

 

 

 

 

 

8.Both Bull and Self Transcended

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We are no longer separate from the world and from Druidry either.  Druidry is us, it was always us.  We experience each and every moment with the same reverence we would to ritual – everything becomes sacred.

 

 

 

 

 

 9.Reaching the Source

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We have reached the source of life itself, and find that meaning or no meaning have no place – only life itself. There is no Druidry. There is no Self. There is no separateness.  All is unified under the banner of Life, changing moment by moment, unconcerned with meaning or no meaning.

 

 

 

 

 

10.Return to Society

10We return to integrate what we have learned from our experiences, to share them and to help others who may be seeking.  We do what we need to do for ourselves, our family, the environment without any selfish thoughts – we simply do.  With the knowledge that we have gained that so expresses ourselves, and which is known as Druidry, we live as best we can, in the world, present, awake and aware.

 

 

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Kierkegaard and the Bullies

Perfect love means to love the one through whom one became unhappy – Soren Kierkegaard

Following on from a recent blog post about forgiveness, putting into practice the habit of it is, as is everything, much easier said than done. So I’m going to share some personal things in this blog post, which I don’t often do, but which I think is necessary to give it some context, and to perhaps allow for people in their own situation to relate to it in some way.

Kierkegaard’s reflection on forgiveness inspired me today to do something which I have never been able to do.  Forgive the bullies.  Thinking about forgiveness a lot lately, I have decided that the best place to start was at the beginning, when the first people who treated me badly first made an impression on my mind and my life.

I had a really happy childhood, growing up in beautiful countryside in a very loving family.  I exceled in school – primary school was a breeze.  I was top of the class in both academia and athletics – I loved them both. I was confident and happy – it was a great time for me.  However, things changed when I went to secondary school.

The first half of the first year went well – though it was a shock moving from a Grade Six class that had five people in it to class sizes of twenty to thirty children.  The school was enormous compared to my primary school, but I adapted pretty well (and much thanks to a map my sister drew especially for me to find my classes in the many halls, which was my saviour that first month!).  I was confident and smart and making new friends under quite difficult circumstances to a very sensitive child.  And then came the bullies.

They were two years older than me, and came from the same region, so we shared the long bus journey together (an hour each way, a total of two hours a day). That was where it all started.  Name calling on the bus – for whatever reason, began the whole affair.  I assume that it was because I was tall, pretty, blond and happy – though I can never truly know the full reason behind it.  Sometimes people simply think that blowing out another person’s flame will make theirs shine all the brighter, but that just isn’t the case – everyone knows two flames are brighter than one alone.  For whatever reason, the bullying started.

Being confident, I decided to fight back.  I was smart, and could have a comeback for anything. Everyone, from television and film and books, said that if you fight back, the bullies will leave you alone.

That is not the case.

I fought back, with words, not allowing them to see that they were hurting me – throwing it back at them, and also hoping that others around me would rally to the cause and that we would all overthrow this minority of bullies who seemed to control “the bus”.

That was not the case either.

People didn’t stand up for me. But I still persevered, fighting back as best I could. Eventually it did get me down, and I started to doubt myself. But I stayed as strong as I could. They put glue in my hair. They threw food and garbage at me. They called me names. They threatened me.  They taunted me every time we passed in the hallway until I avoided all the main halls and used the back stairs, entrances and exits as much as I could. I still held fast to the belief that it was because they were jealous – I stayed strong in my convictions, but it really, really started to get me down. I dreaded going to school every day, and dreaded the bus ride there and back.  I joined after school clubs just so I wouldn’t have to take the same bus as they did home – I could take a later bus. I longed for the two days of respite that the weekend brought – Fridays after the bus dropped me off was like a whole new world of freedom to be me again.

It became so bad one day though, that I had had just about enough of it all and, with no holding back, turned around to where they had moved up in the now almost empty bus to sit directly behind me and taunt me ceaselessly.  I let it rip, verbally, with all the hate, spite , viciousness and intelligence that I possessed. Their faces were shocked, and then anger took over. One girl grabbed me by the hair and started banging my head against the bus window, over and over again.  An older boy came down from the back of the bus and pulled her off of me – I had started physically fighting back – and we were separated.  I got off the bus seconds later at my stop, adrenaline bursting along with tears as soon as the bus was out of sight – I wasn’t going to let them see me cry.  I hated myself and my life.

The next day we were, of course, called into the Principal’s Office.  After a few minutes, where I (with seething calm) stated my case and then the other girl was allowed to state hers, she simply began to cry.  I was too angry to care about why she was crying – she had made my life a living hell.  I sincerely hoped the Principal was not “duped” by her show – though on reflection I do believe that she was a truly unhappy girl in an unhappy situation, the details of which I still am not aware of to this day – only rumours.

Nothing came of it for me – but I think she may have received a three-day suspension or something similar, though the memory of that is a little fuzzy.  What I do remember is that evening she called my house, and my mother answered the phone.  The girl threatened my mother and family, and also said that she didn’t care if she got expelled from school – she could always transfer to SAA.   My mother said, “Go ahead, please do.  BECAUSE THAT’S WHERE I WORK.” We never got a phone call from her again.

The bullying eased off from then on – just some taunts and words passing in the hallway. By this point, I saw the light at the end of the tunnel – the bullies were graduating that year, and once they were gone the school “was mine” again, in the sense that I could live, learn and do as I pleased and enjoy every second of it.  They graduated, or failed – I don’t really know, but they left. Those last two years of my high school life were some of the best years of my life.

I still suffered from confidence issues – walking past a group of people laughing, I would assume they were laughing at me.  Sometimes I still do – though now I catch myself and, with a wry grin, shrug it off.  But one thing I’ve never been able to do is to forgive them for the years and years of torment that they put me through.  Well, today I decided that enough is enough.

I have carried these bullies with me for 27 years now, and I’m more than ready to put them down.  As in my previous blog post, the story of the monks and the sack of potatoes, I really don’t want to carry anger and hate to these people anymore – I’m going to empty the sack, and maybe one day lose the sack altogether so that it can never be filled with anger again.  For anger is the cause of pain and suffering in the world – it is the root behind most, if not all, sufferering and “evil”.  So, no more, thank you very much.  I forgive you, CB, KJ, WG, D and A – I don’t want to carry you around any more.  I hope that your lives are much happier now, and filled with love.  Tears are welling up in my eyes even as I write this – the release is overwhelming.  I have compassion for myself and for you.  May you live well.

And so, I aim for what Kierkegaard wrote – for love is compassion and forgiveness.  I am emptying my sack, one by one, and looking for perfect love with every person who has made me unhappy.  In this way, I believe, the world can and will be a better place.  Namaste.

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Going lightly through life…

As I was out walking the other day, the saying” Living well is the best revenge” popped into my mind.  After a moment’s thought, an additional part to the saying came to mind – “yet if you are focused on revenge, you are not living well”.

At this time of year, when peace on earth and goodwill towards men is often heard, I thought that the addition was rather apt.  For the first part of the saying, it almost deals with the issue, but yet does not allow for forgiveness.  We are still holding a grudge towards someone for what they have done to us.

It reminded me of a story that I recently read, where a group of young monks were given a sack and a bunch of potatoes.  The Master told them that for every grudge, for every thing they could not let go, they had to put a potato in the sack and carry it with them – a physical reminder of the thoughts that they carry around in their heads, which can be outwardly reflected in our behaviour and even our bodies.

After a while, the young monks decided that it was much easier to forgive and let go than to keep carrying around this heavy load the whole time. So, one by one, the potatoes were taken out as they moved on, letting go.  Yet, even as they emptied their sacks, they realised that the sacks could be refilled, and quite easily as well.  So they discarded their sacks – seeing that the sack was as important as the potato. The potatoes were the thoughts, the sack was their very self.  If they held onto their sense of self as lightly as they did their thoughts, seeing that there is no duality and that all things are connected, then there would be no sack, no potatoes, and no burden to carry through life.

I have applied that story to all the old and new grudges that i have been carrying in my life – why would I want to carry them in the first place? Letting go, leaving it all behind and holding very lightly to opinions and the sense of a separate self seems to be the way forward.  It’s not easy, however. Forgiving someone means letting go of any sense of righteousness.  It means letting go of the idea that someone is wrong.  It means simply living in the moment and enjoying it for every second that it exists.  The saying goes “forgive and forget”.  Now, forgetting is much easier than forgiving. I think simply forgiving is enough – forgetting means that it may happen again.  Forgiving implies understanding and not judgement.

So, now is the time to live well, letting go of any ideas of revenge, of grudges.  Life is far, far too short to carry around all that we do not need.  Go lightly through life.  And blessings of the season to you.