Monday, October 24, 2011

"Abandon any hope of fruition"

I know I've been absent here lately.  Apologies.  I've also stopped writing small stones (I still don't know if this is a temporary hiatus or a more long-term one) and it appears I've also let my Stitch A Year project fall by the wayside.  But I have actually been writing, a lot.  On top of flashing here every week, I've also joined a local writer's group which has given me the incentive to edit all those weekly stories and even resurrect some poems I wrote years ago and had forgotten about.  I've also taken up a meditation practice which has sort of replaced the Stitch A Year project.  I just don't have the time to do it all and as ever, it's the truest things that remain. 

Alongside the meditation practice, I've been reading Pema Chodron's Start Where You Are.  The whole book is a revelation but the chapter entitled "Abandon any hope of fruition" is possibly the best thing I've ever read and I wanted to share it.  So I've pretty much typed out almost the whole chapter for you here:

"One of the most powerful teachings of the Buddhist tradition is that as long as you are wishing for things to change, they never will.  As long as you have an orientation toward the future, you can never just relax into what you already have or already are.

One of the deepest habitual patterns that we have is to feel that now is not good enough.  We think back to the past a lot, which maybe was better than now, or perhaps worse.  We also think ahead quite a bit to the future - which we  may fear - always holding out hope that it might be a little bit better than now.  Even if now is going really well ... nevertheless there's a deep tendency to think about how it's going to be later.  We don't quite give ourselves full credit for who are in the present.  ...

In one of the first teachings I ever heard, the teacher said, "I don't know why you came here, but I want to tell you right now that the basis of this whole teaching is that you're never going to get everything together."  I felt a little like he had just slapped me in the face...but I've always remembered it.  There isn't going to be some precious future time when all the loose ends will be tied up.  Even though it was shocking to me, it rang true.  One of the things that keeps us unhappy is this continual searching for pleasure or security, searching for a little more comfortable situation, either at the domestic level or at the spiritual level or at the level of mental peace.

Nowadays, people go to a lot of different places trying to find what they're looking for.  There are 12-step programs...there are a lot of support groups and different therapy groups.  Many people feel wounded and are looking for something to heal them.  To me it seems that at the root of healing, at the root of feeling like a fully adult person, is the premise that you're not going to try to make anything go away, that what you have is worth appreciating.  But this is hard to swallow if what you have is pain. 

In Boston there's a stress-reduction clinic run on Buddhist principles.  It was started by Dr. Jon Kabat-Zinn, a Buddhist practitioner and author of Full Catastrophe Living.  He says that the basic premise of his clinic - to which many people come with a lot of pain - is to give up any hope of fruition.  Otherwise the treatment won't work.  If there's some sense of wanting to change yourself, then it comes from a place of feeling that you're not good enough.  It comes from agression toward yourself, dislike of your present mind, speech, or body; there's something about yourself that you feel is not good enough.  People come to the clinic with addictions, abuse issues or stress from work - all kinds of issues.  Yet this simple ingredient of giving up hope is the most important ingredient for developing sanity and healing.

That's the main thing.  As long as you're wanting to be thinner, smarter, more enlightened, less uptight, or whatever it might be, somehow you're always going to be approaching your problem with the very same logic that created it to begin with: you're not good enough.  That's why the habitual pattern never unwinds itself when you're trying to improve, because you go about it in exactly the same habitual style that caused all the pain to start.

There's a life-affirming teaching in Buddhism, which is that Buddha, which means "awake," is not someone you worship.  Buddha is not someone you aspire to; Buddha is not somebody that was born more than two thousand years ago and was smarter than you'll ever be.  Buddha is our inherent nature - our buddha nature - and what that means is that if you're going to grow up fully, the way that it happens is that you begin to connect with the intelligence that you already have.  It's not like some intelligence that's going to be transplanted into you.  If you're going to be fully mature, you will no longer be imprisoned in the childhood feeling that you always need to protect yourself or shield yourself because things are too harsh.  If you're going to be a grouwn-up - which I would define as being completely at home in your world no matter how difficult the situation - it's because you will allow something that's already in you to be nurtured.  You allow it to grow, you allow it to come out, instead of all the time shielding it and protecting it and keeping it buried.

Someone once told me, "When you feel afraid, that's 'fearful buddha.'"  That could be applied to whatever you feel.  Maybe anger is your thing.  You just go out of control and you see red, and the next thing you know you're yelling or throwing something or hitting someone.  At that time, begin to accept the fact that that's "enraged buddha."  If you feel jealous, that's "jealous buddha."  If you have indigestion, that's "buddha with heartburn."  If you're happy, "happy buddha"; if bored, "bored buddha."  In other words, anything that you can experience or think is worthy of compassion; anything you could think or feel is worthy of appreciation.   ... If one would enter into an unconditional relationship with oneself, one would be entering into an unconditional relationship with buddha.

This is why the slogan says, "Abandon any hope of fruition."  "Fruition" implies that at a future time you will feel good.  There is another word, which is open - to have an open heart and open mind.  This is oriented very much to the present.  If you enter into an unconditional relationship with yourself, that means sticking with the buddha right now on the spot as you find yourself. ...

Whether you get meditation instruction from the Theravada tradition or the Zen tradition or the Vajrayana tradition, the basic instruction is always about being awake in the present moment.  What they don't tell you is that the present moment can be you, this you about whom you sometimes don't feel very good.  That's what there is to wake up to.

When one of the emperors of China asked Bodhidharma (the Zen master who brought Zen from India to China) what enlightenment was, his answer was, "Lots of space, nothing holy."  Meditation is nothing holy.  Therefore there's nothing that you think or feel that somehow gets put in the category of "sin."  There's nothing that you can think or feel that gets put in the category of "wrong."  It's all good juicy stuff - the manure of waking up, the manure of achieving enlightenment, the art of living in the present moment."


So this is what I've been living with lately.  I hope it is of some help or comfort to you.  It is to me.

Monday, October 10, 2011

And today we made a giraffe

I tried to get Jake to stand next to it in the photo above, so you could have an idea of the size of it, but he wasn't interested.  It's about twice Jake's height though. 

Sunday, October 09, 2011

Why I love my boy

Not that I need to justify why I adore my little munchkin, but here are some reasons anyway!


The week before last, when we had beautiful Indian Summer weather, I was wearing a dress when I went to pick Jake up from his Dad's.  The first thing Jake said when he saw me?

"Oh!  I like your dress Mummy!  It's nice!  Is it new?  Where did you get it?  A shop?"

Three years old and ALREADY he knows how to talk to women?!


The other day, I was feeling particularly stressed.  I've been ill with a cold, tired, not sleeping that great and I'm going through the process of choosing a school for him. (Yes, SCHOOL!  When did he get so old???)  Anyway, I was trying to get dressed and got my arm caught at a funny angle in one of my sleeves.  Struggles and perhaps some cursing ensued which ended with me hurling the top onto the floor.

Jake got up from what he was doing, walked over to me and hugged my legs.  Then he gently and tactfully pulled up the waistband of my leggings which had slipped down a bit and which might have been revealing some butt crack, and said, "There you go Mummy, I just pull up your trousers for you."


On Friday, I decided to make lentil soup.  Amazingly enough, Jake not only let me make it without any fuss, but he also wandered in and casually asked me what I was making. 

"I'm making soup!" I said.

"Soup?  Oh, can I have some?"

Naturally I hid my surprise and answered non-chalantly, "Sure," thinking - he's done this before.  Said he's interested in trying something then acts like I'm speaking Martian when I offer him some.

But this time, he actually tried some.  And he liked it.  And he said he liked it.  Several times!! And he ATE HALF A BOWL!  Of LENTIL SOUP!!! 

This might not be a big deal to many parents, especially baby-led weaned ones.  But Jake has been refusing vegetables and food with "bits in it" for at least a year now.  His diet has mainly consisted of rice, various forms of potato, bread and noodles/pasta.  He does not like meat (apart from fish fingers).  He does not like cheese (apat from Philadelphia).  He does not like pizza or burgers - veggie or otherwise.  Occasionally I can get away with putting frozen chopped spinach in his noodles or pasta sauce.  My sanity has been kept largely in tact because he does like my omelettes and he will eat fruit.  But he rarely tries anything new and when he does, he usually spits it out.  Hence the soup shocker.

Later, he ate more soup at dinner and ASKED to have some more for lunch the next day!!!!

(I know I'm probably breaking some Uber-Unconditional-Parenting rule by expressing an extra sense of love for my child for eating good nutritious food cooked by my own hands, but I can't help it, I do.  However, in my defense, I just want to say that I didn't make a big deal of it to him.  I just acted like it was normal.)


Yesterday morning, Jake and I had a wonderful morning of pottering and playing together.  It was one of those mornings where we were both happy and relaxed and really in tune with each other and everything flowed easily with spontaneity and unmatchable child-like joy.  Much of it was spent cutting up playdough and "cooking" it and having a picnic with it. 

After some time spent cutting and cooking, Jake said, "Wow, that was hard work Mummy.  Shall we have a cuppa tea?"

We also used the playdough to make a robot.  Jake was sticking some playdough circles to a box and telling me what he was doing.  "These are the robot's eyes and these are the cheeks.  Robots do have cheeks you know." 

I don't think I could love him more.  But I probably will. 


Totally off-topic, I've been having trouble commenting on some people's blogs on blogger.  I write my comment and no matter how I log in to post the comment, as soon as I press "Post Comment" the whole comment just disappears and nothing happens.  I don't know if you've experienced any problems trying to comment here, but if you did, I guess I wouldn't know!  And if you are one of the bloggers I usually read and comment on and you haven't heard from me in a while, you know why!  Just thought I'd mentioned it. 

Monday, October 03, 2011


Just a reminder that 26n is still going.  If you'd like a kick-start to your writing, try one of our prompts!  A shiny new one has just been posted.

We'd also appreciate it if you could spread the word and tell any of your friends, real or imaginary, who might be interested.