Tag Archives: Consciousness
Several years ago, I went whale watching with a small group of people on a sailboat off Maui. The captain had brought along his four-year-old autistic son who was non-verbal. The little boy was happily playing on the deck of the boat when suddenly he began speaking in unintelligible sounds. It seemed he was calling forth a whale, communicating with it through his vocalizations. The captain helped his son into the water and together they swam out to commune with…..
“Our most basic common link is that we all inhabit this planet, we all breathe the same air, we all cherish our children’s future, and we are all mortal.” John F. Kennedy I believe, as humans, we all carry the desire, however hidden it may be, to uplift and care for each other. After all, we’re all in the same boat here on Earth. We are all subject to suffering as well as joy. These days, as we are suddenly…..
Thinking has so far never been able to solve the human problems of war, conflict, suffering. And what about basic questions like: Who are we? and Why are we here? Thought comes up with these questions but can thinking answer them? There must be another approach to life besides the mental approach. As a spiritual mentor recently pointed out to me, humanity is in a process of transition from thinking to being. When I was in high school, I did…..
Our lives appear to be a journey through time and space from birth to death. It seems we came from somewhere and are going somewhere as we live out the archetype of the pilgrim, the sojourner here on Earth. The strange thing is most of us don’t know where we came from, how and why we got here, or where we’re going. The spiritual quest starts as a search for answers to these fundamental questions. This quest is often referred…..
My first semester in college, I signed up for a philosophy class. The professor was short and stocky, had long hair and an attitude of defiance, even anger, which, I guess, was a sign of the times—it was 1968 and colleges were filled with defiant, angry people. I still remember the sound of his cowboy boots as he stomped up the aisle to the chalk board. I was already intimidated. “Who are you?” he wrote, the chalk clicking loudly against…..
Sitting in the sand one Saturday at Mesa Lane Beach, looking out over the ocean, I reflected on my work at hospice. I thought about how some things—the heartbreaks, the losses, our deepest wounds—can’t always be faced or felt directly. Sometimes we need to get at them sideways through the cracks in our surface lives. But we need to access them one way or another in order to heal and grow. Otherwise, our unfelt pain traps our life energy, our…..
Do you have people in your life who are catalysts for your growth? There is a story about this I heard years ago that has stuck with me. It was told by the Buddhist teacher, Pema Chodron, about a Buddhist monk from Bengal who was traveling to Tibet. As I remember it, he insisted on bringing his Bengali tea boy with him. People wondered why, since there were plenty of tea boys in Tibet. He told them his tea boy…..
“Nothing’s gonna change my world…” This line from the John Lennon song, “Across the Universe,” suddenly had new meaning when I was listening to it the other day with a friend who told me it was written after the Beatles met with Maharishi Mahesh Yogi and had some spiritual experiences. Experiencing “nothing”–meaning the void, emptiness, silence–is going to change his world. This brings me to the topic for the week–nothing. I saw a video recently of a talk by David…..
Here in Hawaii, many people are living off the grid. They have opted to jump off the treadmill of their lives on the mainland and live the ultimate simple existence. For some I have met, they woke up to the fact they had been driving themselves into the ground just to support their upscale lifestyle, selling their souls to a stressful and unfulfilling career. When they asked themselves if it was worth it, they found the answer was no. We…..
That November day back in 1963 began just like any other day. I was sitting at my desk in the back of Mr. Martin’s seventh grade Spanish class. It was still a time of innocence then—especially for someone like me growing up in a small town in a conservative family. My parents would dress up every Friday night for their square dance class—Mom in her full skirt and Dad…I don’t remember what he wore. But they both went out the…..
