Today's Buddhist Thought
I almost always start my day with coffee, email, and CNN. It's become a habit, something I do automatically with one eye open. I do realize that my CNN habit is a holdover from 9/11. That morning I had been sick, got up late, and switched on the computer to check my mail. I noticed a small icon of something smoking on the home page news site, and when I checked it out, I discovered what was happening. I spent the rest of the day huddled on the couch, crying, watching CNN. I watched the second tower go down and all the other horror, and reading the posts from friends in NYC who were watching it happen. I spent at least the next month in a haze, watching it over and over, trying to make sense of what was happening.
So there's some part of me that needs to make sure something like that isn't happening again while I slept. But there's also something called "habit energy," something our minds do without making a conscious choice. Habit energy can control us if we remain unaware of it, and it can take many forms, dictating what we watch, eat, do, and all the rest. My CNN habit is at least partly habit energy, and my email habit, too.
So this morning was no different. I staggered out, grabbed my coffee, switched on the TV, and proceeded to check my mail, listening with half an ear to the President's press conference. Total immersion in habit energy and giving full focus to nothing.
Fortunately, a recent meeting with Tibetan flute player Nawang Khechog and reading his book, Awakening Kindness, had inspired me to write a new meditation for my sangha, and so I started to open a document to do it. And realized that the TV was still on, pouring in distraction, bad news, and stress. In a moment of clarity, I turned it off and put on Nawang's music instead. Suddenly I heard loud birdsong. I didn't think it was part of the music. It was the birds in my own backyard, singing and chirping at the feeders. Practicing kindness to the birds, I was gifted with something pure and sweet and light on the heart. I literally felt a space open in my chest as some stress dissolved, allowing me to touch the Buddha nature in myself, the birds, the musician, everything. A little crumb of enlightenment. And I thought all of what I have written here, listening to the duet of a Tibetan flute player and the Redlands Bird Chorus.
This was my morning meditation. A lotus for all of you, and birdsong. In the words of Nawang Khechog, "May all be kind to each other." And yourself.
So there's some part of me that needs to make sure something like that isn't happening again while I slept. But there's also something called "habit energy," something our minds do without making a conscious choice. Habit energy can control us if we remain unaware of it, and it can take many forms, dictating what we watch, eat, do, and all the rest. My CNN habit is at least partly habit energy, and my email habit, too.
So this morning was no different. I staggered out, grabbed my coffee, switched on the TV, and proceeded to check my mail, listening with half an ear to the President's press conference. Total immersion in habit energy and giving full focus to nothing.
Fortunately, a recent meeting with Tibetan flute player Nawang Khechog and reading his book, Awakening Kindness, had inspired me to write a new meditation for my sangha, and so I started to open a document to do it. And realized that the TV was still on, pouring in distraction, bad news, and stress. In a moment of clarity, I turned it off and put on Nawang's music instead. Suddenly I heard loud birdsong. I didn't think it was part of the music. It was the birds in my own backyard, singing and chirping at the feeders. Practicing kindness to the birds, I was gifted with something pure and sweet and light on the heart. I literally felt a space open in my chest as some stress dissolved, allowing me to touch the Buddha nature in myself, the birds, the musician, everything. A little crumb of enlightenment. And I thought all of what I have written here, listening to the duet of a Tibetan flute player and the Redlands Bird Chorus.
This was my morning meditation. A lotus for all of you, and birdsong. In the words of Nawang Khechog, "May all be kind to each other." And yourself.