Everything is light vibrating, and all things have a resonating tone. Listening deeply, we can hear the music emanating from all objects; going even deeper into the silence, we hear the universe singing the primordial sound, OM.
When Darshan turns into Shakti, you’ll know if it happens.
The next breath you take will be filled with joy, so pay attention.
The best way to fulfill one’s karma is to live the dharma.
It’s not that complicated: Just be here now.
Mindful listening is when all sounds become the chant of a monk.
Bliss is a notable experience, but like any, it is not one to become attached to. Just observe, I’m in bliss.
There is a fine line between having expectations and holding great intentions and positive thoughts for things to come. The first surely leads to suffering.
Falling into grace? Okay, I’m always open to that.
Never defend the joy you feel or your gratitude for life. Even while experiencing some great challenges, you have been touched by Spirit.
Something I embrace in this sometimes crazy world is good karma and grace.
Suchness, a term used in Zen, signifies the welcoming of accepting what is. With suchness, all ordinary moments become magical and blissful.
Back by popular demand, The Now; enjoy it!
Take a moment now and say with loving intention, “Send someone to interfere in my life.” You have now set events in motion to have a beautiful day.
Speak the truth; listen deeply; trust emergence; it’s practice.
When practicing mindful listening, you listen not only with your ears but also with your heart.
To know and understand the nature of your mind, you must observe it.
My most memorable travels have been not by plane or train, by bus or car, but rather in meditation when I have journeyed within.
The practice of mindfulness will influence you physically, mentally, and spiritually; living in The Now is living in harmony.
Catch your next breath, and I will meet you within.
Practice mindful smiling as you move through your day; it will serve others.
It is easy to live in a state of waiting for what we hope will bring us fulfillment, but it takes practice to embrace what is right now.
If we all practiced meditation, we would hear the whisper of our soul’s purpose, and it would sound like this: Serve others. This awareness would generate a tidal wave of gratitude across our planet.
Pure contact with the moment is a direct path for encountering enlightenment.
Experience something so beautiful, profound, and magical that no degree, no guru, no secret sect is required. Simply practice being in the present moment.
People become beautiful . . . life experiences transform . . . colors feel vibrant . . . songs seem to be sung by angels . . . joy ripples within; but only when I pay attention.
When you observe that you’re not present, you have just arrived back in The Now.
When I note worry and fear in my life, it is a sign that I’m in the future. When guilt or sadness prevails, I’m living in the past. Both motivate me to return to the wonderful moment, beautiful moment. Let’s breathe together now.
If I’m looking at the past for my identity and looking toward the future for my fulfillment, then the path always ends in suffering.
Surrender is our willingness to be present with what is. Surrender is our introduction to equanimity.
It’s a beautiful moment when we emerge from forgetfulness and return to the wonderful breath. Bring immediacy to your practice.
Holding on to the intention that the universe is for me and not against me has a striking effect. Life becomes groovy.
Intelligence is marvelous. Nonetheless, there will be times when only our heart has the answer.
There is no way to escape the moment; eventually we have to disconnect from our distractions, dive within, and sit with what arises.
Each morning, sitting upon my meditation cushion, I’m greeted by a sign with a quote credited to Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, the progressive Christian contemplative and philosopher. It expresses the sentiment that joy was an infallible sign of God’s presence. Teilhard de Chardin was a fascinating, if not complex, figure and spiritual teacher whose teachings are worth exploring. But every day that I look at the sign in my meditation area, I am reminded of this simple truth: The quest for joy and happiness is natural; we just seem to look in all the wrong places.
My previous book, The Mindful Addict, was written with the intention of showing others that the practice of a spiritual path will bring both guidance and happiness to our lives. This happiness is born from within, rather than from any outer influence and condition.
Our practice is challenged each day. We hear about or experience incidents that invade our lives, which seem to throw insults and obstacles toward any attempts to find happiness. There is a blunt-yet-popular saying that tries to assure us: “Life is hard, and then you die.” This statement is somewhat true, yet I refuse to embrace this as my worldview of life in general, let alone adopt it as my mantra.
Our practice is to return to the simplicity of the present moment. We find shelter from the intrusion of malevolent thoughts by surrendering to our benevolence within. The goal of the spiritual practice is to soften, not harden, our lives. Ultimately, we must change how we view our life and our inevitable death. We realize the need to accept things peacefully, allowing all situations, good or bad, to act as a catalyst for our continued change. We learn to respond to praise or rejection with an attitude of gratitude. This is equanimity.
The practice of meditation—coupled with service to others—will not assure a gold star will be placed next to our name. Challenges will continue to confront us, but returning to the practice again and again with the willingness to start over will have a softening effect on our daily lives. We realize that we are not victims and prisoners of this life after all, but rather participants in our own moment-to-moment liberation.
Why all the talk about the Eleventh Step as it relates to the practice of meditation?
Why do I write about it, speak to others about it, and practice it?
I’m convinced that there is nowhere else to find true refuge in this world; the practice transforms my world into a hermitage, and my daily routine becomes a retreat. Meditation demands nothing of me but my full attention, and that is a small price to pay for the infinite peace it brings to my life.
I read essays and books on this subject from many eloquent writers, mostly meditation teachers; some possess letters signifying various degrees and titles that follow their names. The essays and books may discuss the subject of meditation from varying perspectives and viewpoints. However, the conclusion, for me, is always the same.
There must be something to this meditation thing.
I have no formal education, but I have practiced meditation for over forty years. I can’t debate or have an intellectual conversation on the complex structure or comparative nature of world religions. I can’t explain the different levels of consciousness that occur during the enlightenment journey—but the simplicity of showing up each day and sitting upon the meditation cushion is available to all of us; no degree is necessary.
My life, like all human lives, has had its share of disappointments, and it