When I cut open a red pepper and a purple cabbage for the first time, I was in awe at the splendor, the integrity, the "perfection" of their interiors. Sometimes we meet the essence in things, and we can share that connection with others. Spirituality is about making one's love or spirit manifest. For instance, in cooking, we're manifesting food for one another, and this could come out of love and generosity rather than a sense of duty or obligation. "Spirit" or "heart" is in all of us, and we can study how to manifest that in our lives in cooking or speech or behaviors so that our good-heartedness becomes clear and palpable.
- Edward Espe Brown
Saturday, February 19, 2011
on Clutter
Clutter makes it impossible to get anything done on time.
- Barry Izsak, founder of Arrange it All
It hides problems in our lives we don't want to confront.
- Sheila McCurdy, owner of Clutter Stop
You are not Your Clutter.
Clearing cluter will create space for miracles.
- Michelle Passoff, author of Lighten Up! Free Yourself from Clutter
- Barry Izsak, founder of Arrange it All
It hides problems in our lives we don't want to confront.
- Sheila McCurdy, owner of Clutter Stop
You are not Your Clutter.
Clearing cluter will create space for miracles.
- Michelle Passoff, author of Lighten Up! Free Yourself from Clutter
Thursday, February 17, 2011
A Kitchen Prayer
May this kitchen be so filled with peace that
all who eat food prepared here receive peace.
May this kitchen be so filled with happiness that
all who eat food prepared here receive happiness.
May this kitchen be so filled with good will that
working here is a joy.
Bless this kitchen
Bless all who work here.
Bless the food that is prepared here.
May this kitchen and the work done here be a blessing to all who live.
- found at: http://macrobiotics.co.uk/recipes.htm
all who eat food prepared here receive peace.
May this kitchen be so filled with happiness that
all who eat food prepared here receive happiness.
May this kitchen be so filled with good will that
working here is a joy.
Bless this kitchen
Bless all who work here.
Bless the food that is prepared here.
May this kitchen and the work done here be a blessing to all who live.
- found at: http://macrobiotics.co.uk/recipes.htm
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Coffee as Meditation
by Edward Espe Brown
(originally published in the September/October 2001 issue of Yoga Journal (entitled, A Jolt of Meditation, The author finds common ground between his morning cup of joe and his daily meditation routine.)
During the years I lived in a meditation center, I rushed through my morning coffee. After all, if I didn't drink it fast enough, I'd be late for meditation. It was important to get to meditation on time; otherwise, one had to endure the social stigma of "being late" (lacking the proper spiritual motivation), as well as the boredom and frustration of having to wait to meditate - until latecomers were admitted.
When I moved out of the center, I had to learn how to live in the world. I had been institutionalized for nearly 20 years. I had been "committed." Now I was out and about. What did it mean? There was no formal meditation hall in my home. I could set my meditation cushion in front of my home alter, or I could sit up in bed and cover my knees with the blankets. There were no rules. So I soon stopped getting up at 3:30 a.m. Once I did awaken, I found that a hot shower, which had not really fit with the previous routine, was quite invigorating. Of course, getting more sleep also helped.
Then I was ready for coffee: hot, freshly brewed, exquisitely delicious coffee. Not coffee in a cold cup from an urn; not coffee made with lukewarm water out of a thermos; not coffee with cold milk, 2 percent milk, or nonfat milk: coffee with heated half-and-half! Here was my opportunity to fulfill the frustrated longings of countless mornings of my past. I would have not just any old coffee, but Peet's Garuda Blend - a mixture of Indonesian beans, brewed with recently boiled water and served in a pre-heated cup.
Unfortunately by the time I finished the coffee, I had been sitting around so long that it was time to get started on the day, but I hadn't done any meditation. With this heavenly beverage in hand, who needed to meditate?
The solution was obvious: Bring the ceremoniously prepared coffee, in the pre-heated cup, to the meditation cushion. This never would have been allowed at the center or in any formal meditation hall I have visited, but in my own home it was a no-brainer. Bring the coffee to the cushion - or was it the other way around?
I light the candle and offer incense. "Homage to the Perfection of Wisdom, the Lovely, the Holy," I say. "May all beings be happy, healthy, and free from suffering." I sit down on the cushion and place the coffee just past my right knee. I cross my legs and then put the cup right in the middle in front of my ankles. I sit without moving, so I don't accidentally spill the coffee.
I straighten my posture and sip some coffee. I feel my weight wettling onto the cushion, lengthen the back of my neck, and sip some coffee. Taste, enjoy, soften, release. I bring my awareness to my breath moving in, flowing out. If I lose track of my breath, I am reminded to take a sip of coffee - robust, hearty, grounding. Come back to the coffee. Come back to the breath. A distraction? A thought? A judgment? Sip of coffee. Enjoy the coffee. Enjoy the breath. Focus on the present moment. And, remembering the words of a vipassana teacher of mine ("Wisdom, in Buddhism, is defined as the proper and efficacious use of caffeine"), I stabilize my intention: "Now, as I drink this cup of coffee, I vow with all beings to awaken body, mind, and spirit to the true taste of the Dharma. May all beings attain complete awakening this very moment." As I visualize the whole world awakening, my mind expands into the vastness.
(originally published in the September/October 2001 issue of Yoga Journal (entitled, A Jolt of Meditation, The author finds common ground between his morning cup of joe and his daily meditation routine.)
During the years I lived in a meditation center, I rushed through my morning coffee. After all, if I didn't drink it fast enough, I'd be late for meditation. It was important to get to meditation on time; otherwise, one had to endure the social stigma of "being late" (lacking the proper spiritual motivation), as well as the boredom and frustration of having to wait to meditate - until latecomers were admitted.
When I moved out of the center, I had to learn how to live in the world. I had been institutionalized for nearly 20 years. I had been "committed." Now I was out and about. What did it mean? There was no formal meditation hall in my home. I could set my meditation cushion in front of my home alter, or I could sit up in bed and cover my knees with the blankets. There were no rules. So I soon stopped getting up at 3:30 a.m. Once I did awaken, I found that a hot shower, which had not really fit with the previous routine, was quite invigorating. Of course, getting more sleep also helped.
Then I was ready for coffee: hot, freshly brewed, exquisitely delicious coffee. Not coffee in a cold cup from an urn; not coffee made with lukewarm water out of a thermos; not coffee with cold milk, 2 percent milk, or nonfat milk: coffee with heated half-and-half! Here was my opportunity to fulfill the frustrated longings of countless mornings of my past. I would have not just any old coffee, but Peet's Garuda Blend - a mixture of Indonesian beans, brewed with recently boiled water and served in a pre-heated cup.
Unfortunately by the time I finished the coffee, I had been sitting around so long that it was time to get started on the day, but I hadn't done any meditation. With this heavenly beverage in hand, who needed to meditate?
The solution was obvious: Bring the ceremoniously prepared coffee, in the pre-heated cup, to the meditation cushion. This never would have been allowed at the center or in any formal meditation hall I have visited, but in my own home it was a no-brainer. Bring the coffee to the cushion - or was it the other way around?
I light the candle and offer incense. "Homage to the Perfection of Wisdom, the Lovely, the Holy," I say. "May all beings be happy, healthy, and free from suffering." I sit down on the cushion and place the coffee just past my right knee. I cross my legs and then put the cup right in the middle in front of my ankles. I sit without moving, so I don't accidentally spill the coffee.
I straighten my posture and sip some coffee. I feel my weight wettling onto the cushion, lengthen the back of my neck, and sip some coffee. Taste, enjoy, soften, release. I bring my awareness to my breath moving in, flowing out. If I lose track of my breath, I am reminded to take a sip of coffee - robust, hearty, grounding. Come back to the coffee. Come back to the breath. A distraction? A thought? A judgment? Sip of coffee. Enjoy the coffee. Enjoy the breath. Focus on the present moment. And, remembering the words of a vipassana teacher of mine ("Wisdom, in Buddhism, is defined as the proper and efficacious use of caffeine"), I stabilize my intention: "Now, as I drink this cup of coffee, I vow with all beings to awaken body, mind, and spirit to the true taste of the Dharma. May all beings attain complete awakening this very moment." As I visualize the whole world awakening, my mind expands into the vastness.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Embodiment and mindfulness in serving a cup of tea
In Self and Others, the anti-psychiatrist Ronald Laing tells the story of a schizophrenic woman to whom a nurse gave a cup of tea. "This is the first time in my life that anyone has ever given me a cup of tea," the patient told her.
Since this scene took place in Great Britain where drinking tea is a daily ritual, it seemed impossible that the patient was telling the truth. But she was. Laing explains that her extreme sensitivity about being recognized or not recognized as a human being, as a human body, allowed her to express a simple and profound truth: "It is not so easy for one person to give another a cup of tea. If a lady gives me a cup of tea, she might be showing off her teapot, or her tea-set; she might be trying to put me in a good mood in order to get something out of me; she may be trying to get me to like her; she may be wanting me as an ally for her own purposes against others. She might pour tea from a teapot into a cup and shove out her hand with cup and saucer in it, whereupon I am expected to grab them within the two seconds before they will become a dead weight. The action could be a mechanical one in which there is no recognition of me in it. A cup of tea could be handed me with me being given a cup of tea."*
To be there, behind the cup of tea . . . to be there, in our body, for ourself and for others . . . to live in our body . . . . [I]t is essential for us to feel within our bodies who we are, that we are. Be a body first of all. Be a body at last. Be.
from The Body Has Its Reasons, by Therese Bertherat and Carol Bernstein (1989)
* R.D. Laing, Self and Others (1961)
Since this scene took place in Great Britain where drinking tea is a daily ritual, it seemed impossible that the patient was telling the truth. But she was. Laing explains that her extreme sensitivity about being recognized or not recognized as a human being, as a human body, allowed her to express a simple and profound truth: "It is not so easy for one person to give another a cup of tea. If a lady gives me a cup of tea, she might be showing off her teapot, or her tea-set; she might be trying to put me in a good mood in order to get something out of me; she may be trying to get me to like her; she may be wanting me as an ally for her own purposes against others. She might pour tea from a teapot into a cup and shove out her hand with cup and saucer in it, whereupon I am expected to grab them within the two seconds before they will become a dead weight. The action could be a mechanical one in which there is no recognition of me in it. A cup of tea could be handed me with me being given a cup of tea."*
To be there, behind the cup of tea . . . to be there, in our body, for ourself and for others . . . to live in our body . . . . [I]t is essential for us to feel within our bodies who we are, that we are. Be a body first of all. Be a body at last. Be.
from The Body Has Its Reasons, by Therese Bertherat and Carol Bernstein (1989)
* R.D. Laing, Self and Others (1961)
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