by Corey Gafnea, CSW Marketing & Communications
In these times of deep uncertainty and division, I find myself asking basic questions about the nature of suffering, the sources of conflict, internal and external, and the possibility of peace. I listen to Dharma talks via podcasts from my favorite teachers, including Joseph Goldstein, Ram Dass, Krishna Das, and Jack Kornfield. They each speak of a dedication to meditation practice or mantra chanting as a path back to ourselves and the universal, inherent love that resides inside us all. It is amazing to experience the awareness that arises from paying attention, on purpose, in the present moment without judgment or bias.
While these practices come from the East, the qualities they develop in us don’t belong to any particular religion or culture. They aren’t Eastern or Western, ancient or modern. These qualities are natural expressions of our deepest humanity, available to anyone willing to cultivate them. The understanding is that all these manifestations are expressions of the One, of which we are all a part.
What matters most is not which tradition the practices come from, but whether our practice actually works. Does it help to free us from suffering? Does it open our hearts to greater compassion? Does it lead us toward wisdom rather than increased division? Does it engender us with a sense of equanimity? This open approach allows us to draw wisdom from various traditions while maintaining the depth that comes from a committed practice.
Spiritual growth requires something of us: commitment to a practice. It can be morning and/or evening meditation, devotional chanting, mindful walking, and bringing moments of conscious awareness to routine activities. The form matters less than intention and consistency. It’s the willingness to show up, day after day, when no one else is looking.
I’m learning that devotion to meditation practice isn’t some big, dramatic gesture. Most of the time, it looks like doing the thing in a regular, unremarkable way, over and over, and letting that be enough. This isn’t mindless repetition or devotion without intention, but a way of not holding our practice too preciously. I was taught to take my seat by sitting “upright but not uptight,” and that message also applies to our practice. Through this regular engagement, we slowly train our minds to stay present rather than getting lost in mental wandering. We develop the capacity to see things as they are, love more freely, and act with greater wisdom and compassion.
As we deepen our understanding of our minds (and hearts) through practice, something remarkable happens: our capacity for compassion naturally expands. We begin to see that others are struggling with the same fundamental challenges we are. This recognition softens our judgments and opens our hearts. These practices teach us to notice our habitual, automatic reactions to difficult situations, people (even/especially those we love), and emotions. We learn it’s possible to bring ourselves to the present moment and sometimes choose a different way of responding.
My Indian guru, Neem Karoli Baba, gave simple instructions: “Love Everyone, Serve Everyone, Remember God.” These are an invitation to wholeness and a recognition of the common thread that runs through all authentic spiritual practices — the cultivation of our innate goodness, resting in loving awareness, and being of service to others.
A dedication to our teachers: Out of their love, out of their kindness, they left some footprints for us to follow. So, in the same way that they wish for us, in the very same way that they wish for us, we wish that all beings everywhere, all of us, be safe, be happy. May all of us have good health and enough to eat. And someday, may we all live in peace, with ease of heart, with whatever comes to us in life. —Krishna Das
photo of a path along the Camino del Norte, July 2016, by Corey Gafnea