My word for this year was Focus. And then in the last three months, I’ve been focused on community.
But the word that wanted me to pick it in the first place; is quietude. And rather than finding myself quieter; I’ve been presented with opportunities to lower my voice – such as leading a 25-minute meditation and active listening during the National Panel meeting. I’ve also noticed that in the time I have alone, the days in my room; my mind is more in that flow; I’m quieter of being. My mind still races with thoughts; I’m still trying to stay constantly busy.
Yet, there’s a lower tone in this space.
I am the mindful Robin just getting on with life, resilient in the face of snow.
An Idea of my Path
I find myself in pockets of compassion. I’m meditating each evening, reading a book of Young Buddhist Essays and I’m well-rested after a term of hectic self-centeredness. I’m home with my cats, who certainly show how Zen meditation should be. I feel like I’ve come home from a retreat and for those first couple of days, all the lessons and workshops are still affecting me. And I hear a whisper.
I have the potential to be inspiration.
In this space, I see a new word quietly glowing through the smoke.
I’ve been wondering lately if it’s time to let go of conceptions just be. Perhaps its time to embrace this fire instead of praying for rain all the time.
Maybe fierce compassion is okay to feel and a better direction for my currents.
Something people often say is that they see this light in me. I have the potential to light a city with it. And maybe the anger at injustice is the indication of my direction.
I want integration; to be the passionate activist, who is quiet enough to listen to a crying being and strong enough to hold up a child above the searing flames.
I originally sought quiet because I’m a loud person, and society really hates people who speak their mind – those who think for themselves and take action. Women who lead instead of comply as meek and subservient things.
My anger is a form of compassion. The history of violence I’ve seen can be tuned to radiance. And perhaps I can ignite someone else’s spark.
I am fire who wishes to be lightning; wild flames gasping for air turned to form controlled power bridging the earth and the sky.
I can make a difference; I just need a direction.
Should I step toward meditation, Buddhist Centres and Tibet?
Should I teach these paths to those in need, in prisons or institutions?
Or should I live my every day life to the fullest of its own potential, smiling at strangers and sparing my change?
“The city is my teacher. It is my sangha and my monastic cell, my adversity and refuge, rife with unabated suffering and unlimited potential joy. Like me, New York is full of contradictions, a place in which I can exist, in the moment, on the zafu or on the subway, minding my breath as I take my time unravelling its koan”. – Paul. W. Morris, Blue Jean Buddha
I’m in the field of mental health, investigating the biology of the mind. I believe in nature; the Druid path, while meditating and exploring the path of the Buddhist Dharma. I understand some components of quantum theory and I know how strongly language affects our perceptual states of being.
I want to write, to teach, to read. I want to reach the world and share every skill I have. I don’t want to specialise on one set of beings or one practise; I want to help as many people with as many things as I can.
I worry that I’ll try to reach everyone. I’m used to spreading myself thin; and it takes its toll on my own sense of self.
I want an answer but find only these poetic strings of feeling. Passion without clear Purpose.
And in this space, I need to stop, sit, and breathe in the quiet until the path makes itself known to me. Which feels right for me; which I will have the best impact on.