Finding myself at my office for the entire day yesterday with a laptop but no power cord, I had to resort to some of the other things on my to-do list which seem to never get done with a computer present.

One of them involved writing goals for the new year, as this seems to be the overriding message touted from every angle.. that this one task is an essential, no-brainer, must-do for a small business owner.

So, I obligingly did that. Nothing huge and lofty... most items were practical and self-evident and centered around making my shiatsu practice not only pay for itself but hopefully for some other stuff as well. I tacked on a couple of other things, also business-related, to the bottom of the list... things that I thought would be cool to have accomplished, and, I assume, necessary to achieving the first aforementioned goals.

But as I wrote them, I could feel my heart wasn't in it. The enthusiasm and fire just weren't there.

No matter. I put the list aside for the moment and went on to something else.

Reflecting on this later, during and after my 'breathing' practice, I had this startling revelation:

"Oh my god. I am not an ambitious person."

Now, for those who know me, this is probably not a word that would have come to mind anyway, in regards to my personality. But having been immersed for some months now in a social networking environment of driven people who are all about GOALS, and SUCCESS, and ACHIEVEMENT, and ENTHUSIASM no matter WHAT, my first thought was that I may be flawed in some way, and therefore not possessing the cayunes with which to manifest my dreams.

To my credit, I have had periods of driven-ness in my life ... granted, it was mostly driving in circles... but lately, I just haven't felt capable of summoning or sustaining that kind of energy.  So, what...am I lazy? Unmotivated? Depressed? Dysfunctional? Undiscliplined?

Yeah, probably a little of all of those. And maybe my re-newly-found meditation practice is allowing me to indulge this so-called deficiency. Even celebrate it.

Or... hmm.

Maybe I'm on to something. Some greater truth about The Illusion of What I Am Supposed to Do/Be/Have In Order To Feel Happy/Successful/Fulfilled/Whole/Right About Myself.

Because this whole drive thing seems vaguely tied up with that.

This new year seems like it is already revealing a theme to me revolving around letting go. Letting go of stuff, of cherished beliefs, of mental models, of 'supposed to be's, of expectations. Of dreams even. Yikes. Some dreams pass away quietly, almost unnoticed. Some, you gotta shoot 'em to put them out of their misery before they hurt somebody.

It's sad and grief-inducing work, yet the quiet left behind in the absence of all that chatter can be so, so lovely. And peaceful. So much space here ... more breathing room and I don't bruise my knees on the furniture. Though I will say the echo in the emptiness can be a little disconcerting and hard to get used to.

I'm sure I'll be inspired again. And maybe even a little ambitious.  Right now I'm just so enjoying the process of wiping the slate clean...seeing how far I can go. How many things I can question as being necessary for my well-being, and what I can kick to the curb, or at least put aside for a bit.

It's not easy, by any stretch, but the breathing helps. A lot.

More about that later, as I finish the first week of "The Presence Process" tomorrow.

And, interestingly, I wrote all this before I even read this....

The prolonged and meditative silence at Quaker Meeting today was finally broken as the older man who had been seated next me arose to give his message.

In a gentle and poetic manner, he described a memory he had of a day attending our Meeting during the height of spring, as he sat in the meetinghouse with a view of the children who were outside wandering among the small, uniform gravestones in the yard, collecting dandelions. This image -- the children full of life and immediacy collecting tokens of beauty -- sparked within him a musing, and a wonder over the state of the children's awareness.. what he described as "a consciousness, not of what was, but what is." And he suddenly felt blessed and inspired by that holy state of mind.

This man went on to eloquently speak of how this gift of awareness pulls him out of his typical "smallness', smallness of mind and heart, and reminds him of something so much bigger.. the ever presence of 'energy' or love, or joy of God that  surrounds us continuously, that exists in all things.. and is always available to us whenever we choose to be open to it. He spoke of his noticing just a few minutes before bubbles rising up past the window of the Meetinghouse, while not being aware of the presence of the kids outside from which they had originated. To him, in that moment, they appeared to be spontaneous and divine... a humorous nudge from a laughing god.. as if to say 'loosen up and pay attention to the countless blessings available to you in this moment.' To remember not to be so lost in thoughts of what has gone before, or worries about what we think may be coming, that we lose sight of the beauty and love and possibility of this moment we hold in our hands right now.

Amen to that. 

and this is what I feel like now.

 have you ever wondered what would happen if you were to question the cherished beliefs that you have about yourself? have you ever wondered what you might hear if you silenced your inner critic and censor for even a moment?

does the very idea scare you? 

it's so totally worth it. 

As anyone who knows me (or reads this stuff) is aware, I engage in the spiritual practice of sitting in silence. On a daily basis (as of this week, and hopefully for a long time) I follow the Buddhist practice of meditation. And on Sundays, I sit in silence at a Quaker Meetinghouse. So, what's the diff, and, also, how are they similar?

I was informed, rather emphatically I might add, by a long-time Quaker, that what Quakers do in meeting for worship is NOT meditation. The intention with which Friends approach the silence is that of waiting. Waiting for that "still, small voice", that of god within us, or the light, or inner wisdom, or whatever appeals to you to call it, to give guidance, or a  message. And it is believed to be each individual's responsibility to share said message with the group, provided it comes from that place of inner wisdom. (I, personally, have heard some messages that were fairly disputable, in terms of their divine origins, but, hey.. what do I know?)

So, sitting there today, waiting to hear the small voice amidst the much louder cacophony of monkey mind, I started composing the rough draft of this post. (I like to think it was divinely inspired okay? Who am I to question the form in which wisdom presents itself?)

So, let's compare:

*Neither tradition places physical comfort during practice at a high priority. To wit: The benches in the Meetinghouse are still in place from the time when austerity and a degree of masochism was believed to bring you closer to god, and obviously before chiropractors came into vogue. It's become a little game with me to find the benches that don't lean ever-so-slightly forward, or are lacking the lumbar section of the backrest. Also, in the wintertime, I try to get dibs on the bench over the heating vent. 

And during meditation, the ideal position is to be seated, on a cushion or a chair, in such a way that the body is relaxed but erect, keeping the energetic channels and the breath flowing freely.  I would probably find it more comfortable and conducive to relaxation if I used a chair, but I've come to take it as a matter of pride, and a gauge of my flexibility, that I can still get into and maintain a half-lotus position for 30 minutes. If I can still do that, as well as a headstand (not at the same time) then old age hasn't claimed me yet.

* Both practices recognize the value and necessity of tuning out the noise of the world and incessant mind chatter, and both trust that wisdom can bubble up from within, if given the space to do so. I've already covered the intention of Quakers during silence. By comparison, the intention of meditation is to quiet any thoughts, any arisings. No matter what comes up: grocery lists, returning that phone call, blog post ideas, earth-shattering insights, a potential cure for cancer.. all of it is to be treated equally, labeled "thinking" and released, while returning attention to the breath.

*Both practices place differing values on posture.  In Buddhist practice, there is a prescribed way to sit, to place the hands, and to focus the eyes.. partially-closed and softly focused on a point 4-6 feet in front of you. In Quaker meeting.. ehh, not so much. The limited range of possibilities allowed by extremely upright benches notwithstanding, Friends tend to try to get as comfortable as possible, short of lying down, it would seem. And ultimate bodily stillness is not really required. There are, however, a few classic 'worshipful' postures, I've noticed. Also, it is traditional to close one's eyes while going within, which offers the added benefit (or hazard) of dozing off. I was amusedly observing one Friend, seated in a bench facing toward me, as his chin would slowly drop to his chest, or his body would lean ever-so-slightly to the left, before he jerked back up again. At one point, I looked up to find his mouth wide open. (I had to stifle a giggle.) In a brief cross-cultural fantasy, I imagined this poor man being approached by a jikijitsu, the monk appointed with the task of seeking out the meditators who have fallen asleep, and whacking them abruptly on the shoulder with a stick. I felt compassion, though, as well, as I, too, have been guilty of napping in Meeting after a particularly late Saturday night.

Stumble It!