AARP: When you have negative emotions, what are they?
The Dalai Lama: Anger. Jealousy. And some feelings of hopelessness.
Hmm, I thought. If even His Holiness has moments of anger, jealousy, and hopelessness, I don’t have to feel so bad when I do too.
And then it got even better. He used his Buddhist logic to explain why you can’t feel hopeless for long:
If some bad things come and remain forever, there is a certain reason to feel hopelessness. But this doesn’t happen. Things are always moving, always changing. If we envision that, there is no reason to feel hopeless.
So. There you have it.
And if I ever need proof of the changing flow of life, all I need do is read my old journals:
February 1: I’m so depressed, everything looks bad, I’m angry at J., can’t see my way out . . .
February 2: Oh thank you, Great Spirit, for this wonderful day. I feel blessed, I love J., life is good . . .
Truth is, all things are passing, even hopelessness, and when you remember that, it helps it pass sooner.
But if you’re like me, there’s still a problem. When lost in darkness, I tend to forget that dawn is coming, or there’s light in the tunnel, or any other helpful saying. There’s something about hopelessness that just feels . . . well, hopeless.
Then I read a story about King Solomon that kind of went like this:
One day the king was feeling very down. He gathered his ministers and said, “Whenever I feel happy, I’m afraid it won’t last. But when I feel sadness, I fear it won’t end. Find me the answer to this suffering.”
His ministers scattered throughout the country, searching for the wisdom or magic that would ease the king’s pain. Finally, one of them met an old jeweler who carved on a simple gold ring the Hebrew inscription “gam zeh ya’avor”—this, too, shall pass.
When the king received the ring and read the inscription, he knew it was magical. For his sadness turned to joy, his joy turned to sadness, and then both gave way to peace and surrender.
Good enough for King Solomon, good enough for me. I bought a ring with one stone to remember: “This, too, shall pass.”
And sooner or later, it always does.
POCO A POCO
After writing thirty-some stories for this book, I got stuck. Sure, I had more recipes to share, but no stories to make them come alive. Great, I thought, just what people need, another “Do This” list of spiritual advice that would sound a million times better coming from the Dalai Lama than Rivvy Neshama (“Rivvy who?”). Fortunately, I had lots of ways to procrastinate and avoid facing just how stuck I was.
But the day of reckoning came: I had put aside four hours to write, and maybe I would have (really) if my computer hadn’t suddenly gone black while making sounds like a vacuum cleaner. I was also in a jealous, edgy, angry mood, not the best place for writing a book on sacred living.
Later, my friend Ellie called and we shared updates on our lives. I sadly mentioned the book and being stuck, cut off from the flow.
“Don’t lose faith,” she said. “Inspiration comes and goes. Just take it poco a poco. Your life will show you what to write.”
“Poco a poco,” I said. “Little by little . . . step by step. That’s one of them!” A recipe I wanted to share. That if you resolve to do something but have trouble doing it, or feel overwhelmed and don’t know where to begin, or you’re lost in darkness and can’t find the light . . . not to worry. Just keep the faith and move forward, one step at a time.
When I was a kid, we played endless games in the alley behind my house. One of my favorites was called Mother, May I? You would ask the leader, who stood on a chalk line far out in front, “Mother, may I take two giant steps?”
If the leader said no, you could ask to take “ten baby steps” or “three scissor steps.” And the first one to reach the leader won.
I don’t remember the rules exactly, but I do remember this: It didn’t matter so much what kind of steps you took, so long as you kept moving forward, little by little, until you finally reached the line. And the nice thing was that everyone got there, sooner or later. The game didn’t end until they did.
Part Two
* * *
THE SUN IS RISING
Open to the dawning
of a brand-new day.
HELLO TO THE SUN
I once spent a week at an ashram in the Bahamas. The worst part was being woken at 5 a.m. to chant outside on the chilly beach. The best part was being woken at 5 a.m. to get to watch the rising sun.
So there I was, sitting cross-legged with some fifty other seekers, chanting Hare Krishna and shivering in the cold. I watched the dark sky grow grayer and lighter and then, more pleasingly, pinker and brighter. But where was the sun? Seagulls were calling, the sky was changing colors, and I’m thinking, What’s going on? By the time the sun appears, it will be, like, no big deal.
I pulled my sweater tighter while casting furtive, longing glances at Club Med a few doors down, and that’s when I saw it. On the horizon of turquoise waters, a gold arc suddenly appeared, and slowly, slowly, the sun rose—and I got it. A sunrise is the exact opposite of a sunset; instead of the sun going down in the west followed by streaks of color, you get a glorious light show in the east announcing its arrival: Here comes the sun!
I remembered that dawn years later when I picked up a children’s book called The Way to Start a Day. Page 1 showed a beautiful sunrise and said:
The way to start a day is this—
Go outside
and face the east
and greet the sun
with some kind of
blessing
or chant
or song
that you made yourself
and keep for
early morning.
There were drawings of Africans drumming, of women offering flowers at shrines in India, of Aztecs playing songs on their flutes . . . of people from all over the world sharing this ancient ritual: to honor that moment when the sun first appears.
Okay, I was sold. I wouldn’t necessarily get up at dawn (I’m a night person, always was), but I would bless the sun each day in person. And that’s how my morning salutations began.
At first, I simply stood outside on our patio and said, “Hi, Sun! Thanks for coming.” But soon this evolved into a more native routine, ending with words inspired by Mom.
I begin by holding my palms together as I face the rising sun. “Hello to the sun!” I say, while lifting my arms high in a sweeping circle. Then I turn to greet all four directions with words that reflect their different aspects and gifts: “Hello to the East! Innocence, new beginnings. Blessings on the East.” “Hello to the South! Heart opening, loving-kindness . . .”
I also salute the other three directions: “Hello above” (the sky), “Hello below” (the earth), and “Hello within” (the center, the heart).
Looking around, I then say “Hello to the flowers and trees” as I take in their beauty, and “Hello to the birds and all the animals” as I listen for their sounds.
My salutation ends with two bows and a prayer:
Thank you for this world.
Thank you for this day.
It’s a good day to die!
It’s a good day to live!
I do this every morning, no matter how late I get moving. It helps me feel fresh, uplifted, and open. Open to the dawning of a brand-new day.
THE FIRST FEW STEPS
It’s a new day. You wake up feeling great and excited. Or maybe not. No matter. Here are some ways to raise your spirits from whatever point they’re at. What works best, I find, is to pick one or a few, make them yours, and do them often—until they become your morning ritual. Still, here’s an honest disclaimer: Some days, for me, nothing works. I wake up growling and it’s just a bad day. That said, read on.
GIVE THANKS
You might sit by a candle or simply sit up in bed and say thanks in whatever way feels right.
/> Gracias, Papito Dios, por el milagro
de un otro dia de la vida.
Thank you, dearest God, for the miracle
of another day of life.
MAKE A VOW ABOUT HOW YOU WANT
TO LIVE THIS DAY
Thich Nhat Hanh, a Buddhist monk and peace activist from Vietnam, offers gathas, short verses, to guide us through the day. Here’s one he suggests we might start with:
Waking up this morning, I smile.
Twenty-four brand new hours are before me.
I vow to live fully each moment
and to look at all beings with eyes of compassion.
I’ve shortened this to say, I vow to live fully and view all beings with compassion, including myself.
OR LET AN AFFIRMATION COME TO YOU
It can be a different one or several each day. Affirm out loud whatever you want to be feeling or creating.
My life is filled with gratitude and love.
I am healthy, strong, and radiantly alive.
I’m living with kindness and calmness and faith.
MEDITATE
Many teachers suggest that you start and end the day with meditation: a way to frame your day with peace.
PRAY
Morning is also a good time for prayer, and prayer can take any form you wish: giving thanks, sending love and healing thoughts to others, affirming or requesting what you need, or simply talking with your higher self or whatever divine presence you believe in or perceive.
REMEMBER YOUR DREAMS
Write them down in a dream book you keep by your bed, or say them out loud and listen for their message. If the dream felt bad or disturbing, think of a way to continue it that turns out well. Or look for a symbol or person in the dream that you feel good about and focus on that.
DO YOGA OR TAI CHI
Hatha yoga and tai chi are ways to wake up your body and soul. Just ten minutes of poses or a few sets of sun salutations are all it takes to feel calmer and focused.
OR GET GROUNDED IN YOUR BODY SOME OTHER WAY
You might sit still, watch your breath as it goes in and out, and feel the calm. Or take a walk or jog outside amid the sounds and smells of the morning waking up.
READ
Our friends Jane and Bo start each morning together, reading something inspirational—“something from 12-step and then something Buddhist.”
I keep inspirational books by my bedside, open one up to any page, and read the message. It’s always right; it always works.
LISTEN TO MUSIC
Put on music you love to set the tone of your day.
VISUALIZE
While lying in bed, close your eyes, take some deep breaths, and picture yourself somewhere beautiful, say, a beach in Hawaii. Then imagine the sun streaming golden light through you, all through your body and out through your fingers and toes, cleansing you and clearing away any tension.
GREET WITH GLADNESS
This is very British, “be of good cheer” advice, suggested by my English friend Helen. If you have a partner or child, she says, wake them or greet them with a glad heart (especially if you live in England, where the skies are often gray). And sure enough, John, my English husband, always smiles at me each morning, looks out at our Colorado sky, and, if just a speck of blue is present, says, “It’s a beautiful day.”
That’s right, even if I’m growling, that’s what he says.
WORDS TO LIVE BY
I’m not sure who gave me this recipe or when I started using it, but I find it helpful to post words of guidance or inspiration around the house—on mirrors and walls or by my computer. Some of them I cut out from magazines, others are from cards or posters, and a few are quotations I copied from books. I don’t always notice them, but when I do, they wake me up and give my spirit a lift.
A NEW YEAR’S GREETING
Every new year—Chinese New Year, that is—we get a hand-printed greeting card from our acupuncturist, David Scrimgeour. Each has a picture of the animal that year represents in Chinese tradition (say, the Year of the Horse), along with some words of wisdom passed on by David.
I’m always surprised by the animals that the Chinese chose to honor. Given their twelve-year cycle for naming the years, they could have picked all elegant or powerful ones: the Lion, the Horse, the Swan. But instead they included the Rat, the Monkey, the Rooster. There’s something very inclusive about that. It reminds me that all beings, no matter how lowly they seem, have their own unique virtues and redeeming qualities. Go, Rat!
Anyway, one card David sent us said:
Trust in the Universe and Move Forward in Your Life.
I think it came in the Year of the Pig, but I taped it on my desk since its wisdom holds forever.
ONE DAY AT A TIME
I’ve always liked the Serenity Prayer, often attributed to Reinhold Niebuhr:
God grant me the serenity to accept the things
I cannot change,
The courage to change the things I can,
And the wisdom to know the difference.
My daughter, Elise, sent it to me once on a greeting card, and I hung it on my office wall. It felt ennobling, though a bit daunting. I mean, it’s not easy to accept what we cannot change, right?
Later, I found out that the prayer is an integral part of Alcoholics Anonymous and other 12-step programs, and some meetings end with all members reciting it. Later still, I was at an art show where my friend Kristine Smock had created wrought-iron sculptures of this prayer, the words themselves surrounded by animals of the land, sea, and air.
That’s when I found out that the Serenity Prayer has a tagline: Living one day at a time. Kristine had made a sculpture of this phrase too, and that’s the one we bought to hang in our home. Almost anything seems possible to change or accept when I take life “one day at a time.”
DESIDERATA
Back in the sixties, nearly every psychedelic shop had a copy of “Desiderata” for sale, among the neon posters and hashish pipes. It’s a prose poem of prayerful advice, often printed on imitation parchment paper, along with these words at the bottom: “Found in Old St. Paul’s Church. Dated 1692.”
I bought a copy, framed it, and hung it in my home. Its guidance felt so relevant and so in tune with my flower-child sentiments that every time I read it I’d say “Wow!” It seemed way cool and mystical that someone wrote this in the seventeenth century.
It also seemed suspect. I could easily picture some fellow hippie writing this and then deciding it would sell better if people thought it was ancient wisdom found in some church. Which is probably true, but doesn’t seem fair. If words are wise, why should it matter who said them or when? But I guess it does, since I liked to believe it was written eons ago and found in Old St. Paul’s.
So I held on to that belief until 2001. That’s when I received about ten copies of an email that was said to be “what the Dalai Lama has to say on the millennium” and gave a list of nineteen instructions for life. Now I had heard the Dalai Lama is a fan of email, but I somehow didn’t see him writing this list—especially when the last item was “Approach love and cooking with reckless abandon!” This made me question again the source of “Desiderata.” So I did some research and here’s what I found:
“Desiderata,” which is Latin for “things to be desired,” was written by Max Ehrmann in the 1920s. Max was a poet and attorney from Terre Haute, Indiana. Apparently, a rector of St. Paul’s Church in Baltimore, Maryland, found the poem in 1959, printed it up for his congregants, and noted on the top “Old St. Paul’s Church, Baltimore A.C. 1692,” since his church was founded in 1692. This led to the later confusion.
Okay, “Written by a Hoosier Lawyer. Dated 1927” doesn’t quite have the charm of “Found in Old St. Paul’s Church. Dated 1692.” Nonetheless, I continue to love and be inspired by “Desiderata.” It still hangs in our home, and whenever I read it, one line will stand out as the perfect message I need at that time.
For those of you who missed t
he sixties, here it is:
Desiderata
Go placidly amid the noise and the haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even to the dull and the ignorant; they too have their story. Avoid loud and aggressive persons; they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain or bitter, for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself. Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals, and everywhere life is full of heroism. Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love, for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment, it is as perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be. And whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.
Part Three
* * *
ANIMAL CHATS AND
OTHER UNIONS WITH NATURE
Recipes for a Sacred Life: True Stories and a Few Miracles Page 4
