Heaven on Earth: two views

I used to think heaven on earth was in those rare and glorious moments when the elements of perfection lined up, when the circumstances were favorable and I was truly in the right place at the right time. Some call this: the moment that "fits my pictures".

This false notion of heaven on earth is as authentic as a movie posing as real life. In fact, I've heard people say that a perfect moment felt like being in a movie watching oneself enjoy the "scene". And the next description is that it is/was too good to be true.

It is too good to be true. Heaven can be felt, sensed or experienced only when we are fully in the moment--any moment--no matter the circumstance or even the emotional setting. I had a conversation with a good friend last night and it had moments of discomfort. She told me things about myself that were less than favorable, but she was right. Her thoughts were close enough to the truth that I knew this was good for me, something I needed to hear and that would make me grow, if I could hear it. I was in heaven. I could hear something and not defend myself.

We can practice the entry to heaven. It's here all the time, every day, every moment. It doesn't have to fit any picture. Whatever is in front of us is the picture of heaven if we're "there". Peace.

Other Practices

One of the suggestions Eckhart Tolle made was to deliberately pull back the eager ego (my inelegant interpretation of his elegant words). What he meant was to look for opportunities to hold back from being "right", clever, to shine or to evoke admiration.

Yesterday I had a conversation with a woman who is concerned about a mutual friend who has cancer. I noticed how eager I was to let her know I had visited this woman, taken her prepared foods and driven her to hospital appointments. I definitely would have revealed all this in the past. But why did she need to know that? Telling her would have been taking credit and I could see this in the moment, so I held it back. It felt better to let the gift of caring stand solely on its own merits and let myself withdraw from a need for "strokes" from my friend on the phone.

This is practice in following spirit over ego, and I'm so happy to discover such a simple but empowering practice. Thanks to Tolle, once again.

Checking In

Yes, it was work, but I made it through a day watching the inner conversation. Frankly, it was not that hard, but next week when my schedule gets busy, the inner voice will be much more active. And there's a good point. Is this inner voice more active when there's more outside activity?

It seems so. There's simply more agitation possible among large groups of people and fairly continuous interaction. There's also more inner anxiety possible when we meet up with people who have a history of annoying us or when we anticipate situations which have been traditionally stressful. How do we prepare for these? Daily practice in stillness and breathing and even morning meditation can help, but mostly it can't be prepared for: the moment happens and we're there or we're not. I have found the best way to keep still and peaceful is a form of forgiveness, mostly self-forgiveness. I set a goal of remaining present and then forgive myself every time I catch my attention wandering (this is quite often). This continuous forgiveness of myself and others is a door openner to peace.

I'm already forgiving myself for the irrritation of meeting with colleagues next week for a training day that I have found in the past to be mostly useless. This is progress and who knows, it might even be different this time?

Keep On Keeping On

One thing that surprises me is that a lifetime of spiritual practice does "sink in". In my awareness of the inner critic, the little voice that tells me it's not quite right or it's good but not good enough, I forget that there are practices, imperfect as they are, that can be resurrected and utlized for spiritual well-being.

I can't overstate the importance of noticing the inner critic, the little niggling voice-over that has an almost constant comment on ourselves and everyone else in the world.

Some years ago I attended the School of Practical Philosophy in New York City. Included in the weekly lessons were practical suggestions to practice between classes. One of these was to watch the inner voice and avoid criticism of ourselves or others. I liked watching the voice, but criticism was hard to manage. I was confused between an honest evaluation of behavior or circumstances and the extra label (gossip, often) that overlays what unfolds in our lives. For example, you could watch a person making an unsafe illegal U turn and think it's a bad choice. That's a clear statement. But adding to it: drivers just do anything they want; people are in a race to their own funeral; I don't do things like that, etc. Now it becomes a distraction and a way to make ourselves right and another wrong. This extra inner conversation is a tough challenge for me.

But that's my job today. I'll report on my progress tomorrow.

Early Morning

Over the years practitioners of yoga and meditation have told me that dawn and early morning hours are ideal for practice. This morning I awoke t 6:15 and let myself get up for good. I did a few yoga poses and sat for maybe five minutes in a watchful breathing meditation.

This was good. Except for the inner criticism that it wasn't enough. I have always done not enough meditation or yoga. I thanked the inner critic and let it go. It's just the ego wanting to tell me I failed. What did I fail? My good intention? I didn't set a time limit on this practice; I just jumped in. I stopped when I stopped and it was good.

More important than how long I meditated was the recognition of the inner critic. That is the purpose of the meditation to begin with. This time I cannot fail at meditation. It is available all day long, even in tiny thirty second increments. I plan to use this today as an entry into peace. And namaste to you!

Eckhart Tolle

I just spent three days doing an R & R (Rest & Relaxation) at Kripalu Yoga Center in Lenox, MA. To say it was divine is to get it right. Yoga practice gets you back to your body, to its subtle messages, even to the sound of your heartbeat, and most importantly to the awareness of your own breathing. I have a peace within that is vastly different from a normal feeling of rest after a short vacation.

While there, I finished another Eckhart Tolle book. Once again, I am back to the heart of what matters--being here alive in the now. Once again I am reminded that there is no past or future, except in the mind, which is not the now, but an overlay of inner conversation commenting on life as it unfolds.

I wish I could say I'm a better person for this, but that's a lie. I just woke up to see more of my crazy ego running amok. I fight the "now" all the time. I have a chattering mind that thinks it's keeping me good company, but in fact only leads me to distraction. On the drive back to Boston, I became aware of how much of the trip went by without my noticing.

But Tolle reminds us that the awareness itself is key, not getting it "right" by being awake all the time. Most empowering was the message that when ego takes over and wants undue attention, it just isn't personal. This helped me forgive myself for inner criticism of people, a useless and self-damaging occupation. There's more, but I'll take it up later. Bye for now.

Letting Go

I cannot speak with much certainty about physical pain, but I feel that with emotional pain patience wins every time. A balanced life seems to include just enough of doing the next right thing and then letting go of expectation for the consequences. Outcomes are not always predictable, though the temptation is high to believe that we can get the outcome we want just because we had the courage to do what was right. Would that it were that simple.

Is this what it means to expect our reward in heaven? I dont think so. There is an inherent grace in knowing within our own minds that we did what we had to do and that the next right thing is letting go. It is this letting go that actualizes our character. Expectations held onto tightly only suggest a manipulation of our circumstances, a way of playing God. This leads eventually to disappointment and cynicism.

Letting go and letting G*d is a slogan in the 12 step programs. It seems to work for anybody.

Religion as a Social Necessity

Rabbi Kushnar says in his book, Living a Life That Matters, that people are drawn to join religious congregations because they would rather pray and worship with other people than in the privacy of their own homes. This implies that the social connection to other people plays an important role in practicing religion.

His assertion is true, but it speaks for all social groups, and there are people who so eschew orthodoxy that they feel closer to a strong sense of worship without a group identity to contend with.

One group that replaces a religious social group are the various iterations of twelve step programs. The meetings are centered on a spiritual awakening following the daily reprieve from alcohol or drugs. The faithful following of so many people in AA speaks precisely to Rabbi Kushnar's point. They make and keep friends among other AAs, and they have a mutual understanding based on the principles practiced as the AA way of life.

So the social aspect has to grab people who have very similar interests in their spiritual philosophy; otherwise the fear of "group think" or cultism will arise.

Gone Fishin

I'm out on a boat today through Monday (20th), so I'll probably only write in a notebook, not electronically. Send me messages (please) so that when I get back, I can feel there's a reader out there!!

Quitting Isn't Failure

With all the talk about how America can't quit Iraq, since we have never "lost" a war (forgetful of the last quagmire in Viet Nam), we can reflect on when quitting is just quitting, when it's being realistic, or when it's simply moving on from beating a dead horse.

I had dinner last night with a lovely young woman who asked about my career. I relayed how I quit acting in New York some years ago, after unsuccessful attempts at getting paid work. She was sympathetic, wanting to encourage me almost, to not give up, to go back now and try again, as if she could inspire my younger self. Our time together was too short to describe the ensuing successful years, how that decision didn't hurt me but led to other wonderful doors opening.

But it's a useful exercise to take a hard look at whether or not our past quitting was true failure. Once you're over 40, you probably have some palpable failures in your bag of experience: a failed marriage, a promising career you walked away from, a college degree you made no use of, an investment you avoided out of fear that would have made a nest egg for early and luxurious retirement. There are thousands of these failures, but should they stick in the craw as such?

It takes courage to look directly at our own lives and reconcile the "holes", to embrace the undone perfection we idealized for ourselves. But this is the story of being human. Bring it to the surface, put it in perspective and move on. Last night I realized how that "failure" to achieve an acting career sounded to me--shallow and not worth mentioning. I thank my young friend.

Rabbi Kushner

Finally, I'm reading one of his books. Living A Life That Matters is a wonderful short book, easy to read. Given he's a Rabbi, he's scholarly in the Old Testament and his story telling helps to make otherwise dense material crystal clear. Kushner deals with complex issues of conscience and the need to be good versus the need to succeed (knowing we matter). He shows us the grey area where the choices are hard and the still small voice of conscience is too easily suppressed. And he gives a wide berth to us all in this regard.

"Only morally sensitive people struggle with the gap between who they are and who they know they ought to be." (page 42. )This sentence alone speaks right to the heart of the book I'm writing. We all have a gap; if we were to honestly size it up, write it down and view the big picture, where are our personal gaps and is there a will to begin (or continue) to gnaw away at the hard shell of compromise we've developed, living with a conscience on the one hand and a need to survive on the other?

I'll probably finish this in 24 hours. Stay tuned. His work is inspiring.

Self-Care

For those of us who are lifelong people pleasers, there comes a time when burn-out occurs or the cup spilleth over into empty and broken heartship. People pleasing is not service (seva) to another deserving human; it is actually avoiding self-care or eschewing the pain of serving oneself.

Why on earth is serving oneself painful? As children we hear often that we are selfish. As adults we don't actually remember the events where this label occurred, but we internalize the word and decide in a general fashion that to gain respect and praise we won't be selfish.

What we avoid learning is that in the process of service we have not only the right but the OBLIGATION to make our choices of service to others from the viewpoint of win-win. In short, I can and will do this for you because it stretches me, and teaches me to open myself to another. It serves you because you have a legitimate need. I want to be of service because I can and therefore I will. No sacrifice necessary.

This is a huge and complex subject and I'm scratching the surface here. Look for more on this in my book.

Feeling Better vs. Feeling Good

If life were all about feeling good as long and as often as possible, we'd have it easy. There's no question that when the operating instruction is to make yourself feel good, the focus is on oneself first and always. Just keep looking out for number one.

Feeling good, really good, happens when the stars are all aligned and we encounter brief moments of victory, sometimes the weighty presence of a positive---we just got a raise and we can now take a real vacation, or the simple absence of a negative---it's Saturday and the phone isn't ringing and we can sleep in.

But in the gray area of character and ethics and clean living, we often have to settle for feeling better (about ourselves) over feeling good (about the whole situation). Sometimes righting a wrong means moving oneself into a clear conscience, but leaving another person hurt or confused, angry or even violent.

There is wisdom to the advice of "choose your battles", but sooner or later when someone close to us pushes the issue too close to the edge of the cliff, the right thing to do is to let that person fall over and feel the bruises and break the bones. If it's someone important to us, it hurts us as well as them. We feel better, but we don't feel good.

That's what character development is: the gray choices we have to make throughout our lives. We may spend most of our days not feeling so good. But we can sleep at night.

Writing About Character

The worst thing in writing about character is that the mirror is turned back around on myself. I have to reflect on my own behavior all the time, every day, and who wants to? I would as soon throw the nit picky stuff under the rug and MOVE ON! Why put the bothersome issues under a microscope?

There's only one answer: put them into the visible realm because they already exist in a repressed area where they will arise over and over until we take a good hard look and engage them face to face. It's now or later, and later may be harder or inconvenient. And of course, later may never come (now that solves the problem).

I dont like to fight with people, especially those I ordinarily trust and love, but walking away and letting a friend get by with murder is a poor second choice. My fear of the confrontation is the fight she'll give back---her need to make me into someone who has aggrieved her (I apparently did). What I can't agree to is being in the wrong for what her complaint is---I did something reasonable and she is hyper sensitive. My grievance is with her accusations and then her hanging up on me (I wasn't arguing).

It comes down to this: I can't walk away, I can't avoid her (a foolish passive aggressive tactic). I have to stand up for myself and risk losing a friendship I feel is getting weaker by the week. And for me it comes down to character. It's lonely to develop a backbone. People leave; they cry; they whine. They even sue you! (Not my fear here). But there it is. It's now or later. And now is all I've got.

Forgiveness

One of the toughest issues of developing character is forgiveness. I have seen extraordinary grace in the face of unthinkable suffering and marveled at the heroic greatness of soul to forgive another of wrongdoing.

Sometimes this forgiveness is not saying OK: you can walk away with a clear conscience just because I forgave you. Consequences are necessary for all of us as a lesson . Without consequences, a clear conscience is not clear enough for learning the next right thing to do.

But who benefits from forgiveness? As many have acknowledged, it's often the one who forgives, more than the one who is forgiven. Why? It is in the act of forgiveness that the aggrieved party can have a shred of hope to move on, to keep the channels of love and trust open to others. This certainly does not mean to forget. And it does not mean to abrogate the need to press for consequences, for responsibility and sometimes on a broad scale to seek for changes in the law.

I have a friend who stopped speaking to her brother after he refused to help her dying parents over several years of declining health. He left her completely alone holding the bag. But she forgave this brother; he has a son growing up without her influence and friendship and she knew the boy didn't need to suffer from his father and aunt's broken bond. She is happier and her nephew knows her loving hand.

These are extremely tough decisions, but when thought through completely, give back much more than they take away.

What Does G*d Care About?

The central issue in looking at our final reckoning is this: is G*d liberal in reviewing our life or is He conservative? Is G*d a fundamentalist at the gates of heaven, or does He take a loose interpretation of our character, our deeds, our best intentions?

It seems the framework for reckoning then come down to our own conscience. But how can we trust such a wily self-serving little devil, the little voice inside our head that sets the red, yellow and green lights for the continuous, noisy traffic that passes through all day and night? How many times have you said, or heard someone else say ingenuously :"I can live with that decision", knowing full well that that admission often includes traces of anguish and remorse.

This reckoning is with us daily, most often not critical enough to bother our conscious mind, but it's there nonetheless.

However we orient ourselves to G*d is not just a whimsy. I for one must feel connected to something fundamentally sound to get through a day with ease. My conscience is a hound dog and will not let go. I don't always act on this gnawing, but I can't deny it's there. A conflicted conscience holds me back from a "flow" day, a day of peace and ease. Strange things happen on those kinds of days: I forget my keys, spill my cereal, race through yellow traffic lights, blank out names of familiar people.

"Alas, conscience doth make cowards of us all." Hamlet.

Alas, conscience doth make flubbadubs of us all. If the "instrument" of conscience is tuned, it will make itself felt with the annoying stridency of a violin in need of attention. Pay heed.

The Making of Character

It takes a lifetime to build a complete character, but some think it's all done by the time you leave junior high. This is only true in terms of predictable habits and early life patterns. If it's never too late to have a happy childhood, it's never to late to redeem a character flaw.

BUT, it takes practice, it takes repetition to make the new character habit stick, to achieve a turnaround in an habitual behavior pattern.

I have a lifelong tendency to be laid back and forgiving. My character asset is that I have a long fuse; I'm not so thin-skinned that I'm easily offended. That said, there are people in my life who deserve to be reckoned with and I habitually let them slide, far more than they deserve or is good for them. How do I break this habit?

The first thing is that I recognize the problem I and want to face it. I make no excuses for it. I know the good side of this trait, but that's not enough. The same asset in one situaion is a liability in another circumstance. I also know that this trait is not a bottomless well of forgiveness. Somewhere deep inside I have a tally and it's adding up. Somewhere there's a cauldron boiling and the lid will blow with the right provocation.

Finally I look for opportunities to break this habit in simple ways: I speak up when it's easy but I wouldn't have done it without pushing myself. That way, every time the opportunity presents itself, and it might be harder, at least I know I can do it. How do I know? I did it once; I can do it again. What do you do?

What is Heaven?

What is heaven? A place without a body, without worry, without traffic, and most importantly, without the fear of death, even death’s remotest possibility. It’s an ideal place to be able to say about death: “been there; done that”.

But we use the word heaven differently in a variety of contexts: a heavenly stress-free vacation, a heavenly taste of chocolate, a heavenly view of the mountains. What on earth (no pun intended) do we mean by this version of heaven, and do the childhood visions of angels, clouds and other ephemeral accoutrements connect to our versions of heaven on earth?

Heaven is sometimes the word used when people describe a peak experience, a moment when time stands still and all the forces of the universe are aligned with your own unique moment of deepest appreciation. The body is there but bears no particular weight of burden; the worry is so sublimated that you may have been just born; traffic is farthest from your mind, and death holds no sway. One could be thinking: If death happens right now, my life will not have been in vain.

Talk to me. What is heaven for you? Both versions.

Conversations with God

Only recently have I begun to read some of Neale Walsh's opuses on this subject.

In principle, I agree fully with his original premise--if we're quiet and listen to the whispers of our innate "good" conscience. we might discover G*d is talking to us, telling us the best advice, steering us away from stupid errors and warning us against foolish choices.

I wish it were that simple. I think we hear mostly what we want to hear, and it's extraordinarily difficult to separate good advice from bad when listening to the still, small voice of conscience. But what choice do we have? If we turn to the clearest rules of religion, starting with the Ten Commandments, how do we choose to interpret what we've learned? The wisest will tell us, live not from what you've been told, but from what you know directly in your experience.

This has been my own unfolding. I had to learn to trust my native conscience and give up the thinking of my childhood, some of which lingered into my third half of life. I have other, trustworthy signals: I get a pain over my left shoulder when my conscience is stimulated. Some people I know develop a form of sinus headache.

So today I'll hang out with doing my best and watching my shoulder. How does conscience work for you?

A Searching and Fearless Moral Inventory

In the world of Alcoholics Anonymous, and in fact in all the affiliated twelve step programs, there's a process called the fourth step inventory. It is a written and then shared document executed in private, but sometimes with the help of a sponsor, a trusted other alcoholic, who guides and coaches one to complete the inventory.

The purpose of the fourth step is to come clean about one's character defects. And the ultimate purpose of this process is simply to come clean and then to stay sober. The long-term effects of a stronger character are obvious as a boost to sobriety.

Given all 12 steps, most alcoholics (or anyone involved in a 12 step program) will tell you the fourth step is the hardest. Why? The descriptive words hint at the challenge--- searching and fearless. It means to be completely honest, without excuses or cover ups, without cutting corners on our behaviors. This fourth step has appealed to many groups, far afield from alcoholism.

You can never know too much about yourself. The more you know where you've shortchanged others as well as yourself, the more opportunity for a better life you have from this moment on. And what else is there?

Daily Self-Discipline

One recent discovery: if you want to establish a good habit and "grow" a skill or finish a project, make yourself do it every day, even if it's for a short time or it's only a brief act. This is obvious for exercisers who now know that getting a daily active regime is wise and keeps the habit alive, as it keeps the appetite open for more, more, more.

But this is also true for writers, job-seekers, and bloggers, especially true for bloggers.

It is not easy to blog daily. As much as we're tempted to drift into thinking this is just a personal journal, there's no getting around the fact that it's public, meaning anyone at any time could find you. What if that finder is someone you want to be found by? Can't happen without the daily entry.

Why daily? Somehow as a reader of news, I find yesterday's news DEAD. Where are you right now; who are you today?

And finally for writers, whose job is to churn it out, one piece of rhetorical insight at a time until there's something good on the page, daily is mandatory. So get going. Write it and publish it.

The Inflated Power of Blogging

Today is a departure from the usual.

I confess: I am an avid blog reader, an occasional commenter, as well as a writer. I use this space, not only for some shameless self-promotion, but also as a way of developing serious thinking and praying for serious dialogue on topics and issues dear to me.

That said, there's something fantastical about writing for a public audience as vast as the multi-millions who connect daily to the web. If only in one's mind (certainly in my case) it feels good and portends a certain sense of journalistic responsibility to commit daily to sending out material open for discussion. On the other hand, blogging can also be a mindless dump of flip and ill-considered opinioning.

On thing for sure---the mere thought of potential lively, invigorating dialogue with like minds is extraordinary. Some of the "reader" comments on The Daily Dish (Andrew Sullivan"s award-winning blog) fully illuminate the original author's words, and he is fortunate to have such a spectacularly intelligent readership willing to participate in his particular public forum.

People of my own humble origins can only hope for such a platform and the credentials to climb up there. Time will tell.

Why Was I Born?

This title comes from an old song from Show Boat, a great musical made into a movie in the early 1950s.

Maggie, the show boat character, then lists several questions--why am I living, what do I get, what am I giving (good rhymes)---and the conclusion is that she was born to love you (him).

I think about this question. What am I doing with my one precious life; what am I supposed to be doing? It's ungodly late to invent another wheel (and not interesting enough to capture my attention). I've had my children and still maintain the first and stable marriage. What's important enough now to pay attention to? Eating healthy food, keeping the house straight, earning enough money to pay the rent , the food, the car and the housekeeping are all no-brainers. What about the rest of my precious time? And what did I miss during those years when raising my children was all I thought about and obsessed over?

Why was I born? To love you and to love myself enough to know what love is? And then what is it to love? The wisest have told me it's about giving to life, about saying yes to the daily challenges of riding the waves of circumstance and making the best possible choices in a world of paradox that put me into the flow of the wider human river.

This takes me back to Show Boat--Can't Help Lovin Dat Man---fish gotta swim, birds gotta fly. I gotta love one man till I die. Strange---is it all about using this marriage as a mirror into being fully human? I don't know. It's exhausting to consider.