In less then ten minutes, Sogyal Rinpoche explains the connection between the mind, meditation and contentment.
In this video, from April 2005, Sogyal Rinpoche explains about how we can discover the source of true contentment. In less then ten minutes, Rinpoche explains the connection between the mind, meditation and contentment. This video is from the WhatMeditationReallyIs.com course.
I met someone the other night who criticized one of the most popular and successful secular meditation programs out there. His point was that while it is wonderful that people are meditating and through mindfulness leading healthier lives, BUT, there is nothing in that system that promotes any kind of ethical behavior. In other words, you can meditate in the morning and then lie, cheat and steal all day long. My new acquaintance’s position was that ethical behavior is a necessary component for true spiritual discovery.
How does emptiness help us? How do we apply an understanding of emptiness to our lives?
Sometimes emptiness seems foreign to us. But in truth, we live and move about in emptiness because things, by nature, are not static or “objectifiable.” I often speak of resting in emptiness as an open question. An open question is a question we ask without expecting to find a final answer. When we ask an open question we have not yet reached a conclusion and yet the mind is focused and engaged with life.
Just the other day I found myself in the all-too-familiar situation of trying to explain what I do when I meditate to a curious and inquiring stranger. I’m sure this has happened to you before…You know, you’re sitting on the bus or in a coffee shop and you strike up a friendly conversation with someone next to you. One thing leads to another, and before you know it you’ve let it slip that you meditate. Then comes that slightly tense moment as you wait to find out whether or not the other person thinks you’re a total wacko and if you need to try and change the subject to something safer…like sports or IKEA.
This time it was a little bit different though…
Inspired by the previous post from Marieke van Vugt, I decided to try my hand at sharing what a "normal" day of work-integrating-meditation looks like.
Since preparing to publish my book, Minding the Bedside: Nursing from the Heart of the Awakened Mind, and starting my own business, the unfortunate fact is that the time for my "formal" practice has suffered. Yet, while I lament and moan about the lack of time to formally practice, it seems like the integration of practice into my daily life, and my ability to take life onto the path, has increased.
I’ve been meditating now for over 15 years. It’s one of the most important things in my life and also one of my favorite things to avoid.
My alarm is set for 5:45 am…I think. The theory is to have enough time to do at least an hour of meditation in the morning before I seize the day. What often happens is...
When you think about caring for another, and about arriving fully present at the bedside, what comes to mind? Does the idea of compassion in caring mean that we have to sacrifice some part of ourselves, or somehow “become” something we’re not in order to arrive present? Is there something that we lack that needs to be gained in order to be compassionate?
I set my alarm for 7am hoping that'll give me a good 1/2 hour to practice before work. But I don't roll out of bed till 8:45, and barely have time to get dressed before running out the door. I resolve once again to "catch up" on my meditation tonight.
I attempt to bring presence to my speed-walk to the subway, which works until I descend into the hot windy tunnel to catch the F train. The homeless guy slumped over a bench stares at me and I try to meet his gaze, because I don't want to pretend he doesn't exist. I hope my look conveys empathy but it probably just looks like a bitchy New Yorker glare.
To tune out my thoughts I pull out my ipod and turn on Pema Chodron's audio collection as I squeeze into the train. By the time I’ve actually untangled my headphone wires we're at 14th street and pouring out onto the New York city sidewalks. I merge in with the pedestrian traffic and walk to my building. Pema is finally playing and I feel a greater sense of presence as I walk.