The World of Mister Zen

Just consider for a moment, how would today be different if you knew it was your last?   How would you be? What would matter? What might you notice?   Maybe you would take it slow.   Maybe you would savour each moment.   Maybe you would tell those that mattered that you loved them.   Maybe you would resolve an old and now meaningless conflict.   Maybe you would watch the sunrise.   Maybe you would taste each meal and be grateful for each meal you’ve failed to taste.   Maybe you would just watch.   Maybe you would embrace what truly mattered. Maybe you would smile or laugh, taking yourself just a little less seriously.   Maybe you would sing at the top of your voice without a care in the world. Maybe you would be kinder or more compassionate towards yourself and others.   Maybe you would finally give yourself a break. Maybe you would listen to the birds.   Maybe you would meet someone fully an...

Just sitting,  Breathe in, breathe out,  Breathe in, breathe out.  Blossom falls,  How picturesque! Settling on the deck. Knotted trees With faces  Of wise men. The birds that wake before me Call me gently Toward the day. Dwelling in the space  Where thoughts arise, Untouched by night or day. Luminous! Moss covered bark. How strangely beautiful. Snow falls.  Or is it rain? Still, my heart melts.  What joy!  Muddied like a child.  Carefree.  The wind is known By the swaying  Of the trees.  Rain falls,  Puddles gather,  And so reflect their source.  S hhh, can you hear it?  Listen carefully,  T umbleweed.

Seeing my mum off after her visit was so incredibly difficult. Over the past few days I have seen her settle into a way of being that I have never seen her inhabit before. I met a new mother in so many ways. It sounds strange but her condition has softened her edges and allowed her to be present in a way that perhaps she was unable to be in the past. I have seen joy, contentment and love in her eyes, as well as the odd bout of confusion or restlessness, but these were few and far between for the most part and when they paid a visit we were able to settle her quickly without too much drama. A quick call to her husband or a nice cup of tea. I watched as she connected deeply with the force of nature I know as Bonnie, my dearest friend and a very special being. She met my mum at every turn and loved her without a second thought, as if her own. Often she was a trusted companion to my mum where perhaps I couldn't be. Amidst it all my mum's instinct remained to protect my brot...

I feel compelled to share the journey of this week in some way. Perhaps in order to speak openly about a condition that is not often discussed publicly or as part of my own catharsis. At this juncture I am not entirely sure. Perhaps both. A year ago my mum was diagnosed with early onset frontotemporal dementia. This is a shrinkage of the brain that causes, among other things, memory loss, confusion, and a loss of empathy. My past year has been coming to terms with much of what this diagnosis has stirred in me. The reality of impermanence, the fragility of life, being present with heartbreak, loss, to name but a few. What's made it doubly tricky is that my mum lives abroad and so our communication has largely been limited to awkward, disjointed phone calls and a handful of skype calls. (my mum is something of a technophobe) This week my mum turns 64 years old and so my brother and I decided to fly her over to see many of her friends and family that, to be honest, she may not...

I have just returned from a quite beautiful week in Wales. Still very much re-entering the space we refer to as 'normal'. It seems anything but. The retreat I attended was called 'Shattering the Great Doubt', also known simply as a Koan Retreat. For those you unfamiliar with the term 'Koan' it is a short story, statement, dialogue or exchange between master and student, that is used as a form of practice in the Rinzai tradition of Zen. We are asked to meditate on , and merge with the koan, observing how it 'triggers' us or prompts and provokes habits, patterns and ways of being. It is something that must be experienced to be truly understood but that is a brief and simplistic overview. I met with 18 other curious souls to investigate and come face to face with ourselves in a rustic, electricity-less farmhouse in the middle of the welsh countryside. The schedule would involve a week of silence, meditation, great food, working for the b...

Every now and again life delivers a 'game changing' event. One that challenges us and shakes our very foundations. It is in these transcendental moments we have revealed to us the true value of our practice. We are given a very real and meaningful yardstick for where we are at. It can be all too easy to adopt a philosophy or belief that acts as a pacifier, to retreat into language in order to hide from our true feelings because the feelings are just too much to bear - To simply talk a good game. Our work is not to arrange life so as to avoid feeling pain or sadness but to re-examine our relationship to these valid and inevitable emotions and feelings. We have been taught to run from or distract ourselves from painful emotions instead of embracing them and investigating them, allowing them to appear as they are, giving them space to arise and impart upon us their profound wisdom. To maintain an open heart and willingness to learn takes great practice and ...

Attachment can show up in any number of ways. Sometimes very obviously and other times quite subtly. If we are willing to look deeply and observe our motives, expectations, desires, we can see clearly where we are being snagged by some form of attachment. Just lately I have become acutely aware of this in my own experience. I have a loved one that is trying to find her feet and work through some of her 'stuff'. As much as I can I am trying to support her through this journey and yet with some honest and compassionate words from a very dear friend of mine I was able to see that I was becoming attached to the desire for my loved one's well-being. Now, on the surface you may say that wishing another well is perhaps a reasonable or normal thing and yet it has become abundantly clear to me that it is simply a rather subtle form of attachment and actually is not an expression of unconditional love but instead a demand or expectation placed upon another. You see, each tim...

I recall once consoling a friend that was upset that her parents were selling the family home, the home she had grown up in since birth and lived in until her late 20's. She had taken her first steps in that home, left that home for her first day at school, brought her first boyfriend into that home. It held many memories and provided a secure place in which she could 'be'. That place where she could just, 'aaahhh'. What struck me at the time was how little I was able to fully identify with that sense of loss. As far back as I could remember I have never had a 'home' in the same sense of the word. I have lived in many different places throughout my life. Various 'family' homes up until 8 years old, then I lived between both my divorced parents houses, back and forth, back and forth. Into my older years I moved around a great deal and continued this learned nomadic lifestyle, I lived in other countries for a short time, lived with various people, sle...

Every morning, when I wake, I am overwhelmed with a deep sense of gratitude. A real sense of "Wow! I'm alive!" I must say, it's a great way to start the day, with the profound recognition that today was not a given. The flip side of this is the subtle awareness that one day I will not wake, that one day I will pass on. I often quote a line by a Native American elder; "The problem with your people is that you wake up every day assuming that you will live." I love this because it is so true. Do we not just take it for granted that we have awoken? That we will undoubtedly see out the day? How exactly does this presumption impact the way we live? How many of us truly acknowledge that we and all those that we love and value will one day pass? It seems to me that the prevailing feeling surrounding death in our culture is one of fear. We fear death and so we refuse to accept it as inevitable and essential to life. I have always had a fascinati...

"You don't think thoughts, thoughts think you." This is a statement I like to share with people that is often met with a look of utter confusion. I will do my best to illustrate what, exactly, I mean when i say this. Without conducting any kind of poll on the matter my assumption is that nine out of ten people (okay, ten out of ten) - if you stopped them on the street - would tell you that they are the thinker of their thoughts. Of course! Who else is thinking my thoughts? Their MINE aren't they? I must admit for a long time I too was under the illusion that I was the author of my thoughts. Only when I began to take note of what was going on in my head that a few things began to appear crystal clear to me. Here's the way I see it. Bear with me as I try to communicate this in the best way I know how. Let's look at this  - Firstly, and most obviously, how do 'you' think? I mean, do you know how to do it, to stop it, to have only 'good thoughts'?...

In the past few months, I have been approached more and more by people curious about meditation. Often, they call me to one side and quietly ask, “what’s it all about?” Lately, buzzwords like mindfulness and promises of tranquility and increased calmness, stress relief or better mood  have caught the attention of many people who may not ever have given a second thought to such things. In that sense, it’s a good thing that word is getting out. However, it seems to me that (much in the same way we are fine-tuned to seek quick fixes and a direct hotline to nirvana) people have a tendency to assume that meditation is a bed of roses. There are many misconceptions about the ‘point’ of meditation and the ‘results’ it may deliver.  When I started meditating, my understanding was that it would help me in my ongoing quest to escape the pains of life, or give me much needed go-faster stripes in order to outrun the many demons on my trail. I, too, fell victim to t...

 I like to share this story with people in order to illustrate the extent to which our pre-conditioned, destructive beliefs manifest themselves as habits in our lives. Many of our experiences as children leave mental footprints. Those footprints take the shape of assumptions or beliefs that we carry on into our adult lives. The acting out of these beliefs, which is often quite unconscious, shapes our relationships with others and our own sense of who we are. When I was about 7 or 8 years old, my parents got divorced. At that time, it was not quite as common to have estranged parents as it is nowadays. I didn't realize it but I had a strong sense that, somehow, I might have been responsible for the break-up. I recognize now the absurdity of such a belief but at the time I was quite unaware that I had assumed responsibility for an event that had absolutely nothing to do with me or my actions. My mother left my father (for a number of complex reasons far beyond the comp...

There is something present in this moment that is more obvious than the moment itself. And I believe all of us know it quite intimately. I had the sense as a child that what was looking from my eyes was the same thing that looked back at me from others’ eyes, but I couldn’t put my finger on what that was. At the time, I was being taught the quite contrary idea; that I was a separate, independent, autonomous entity. If you watch small children, it is plain to see they have a really deep sense of connection with the world, without ever thinking about it or questioning it.Children pick up crayons and draw anywhere, on the floor or the walls. They don’t need paper. They draw for the sake of drawing, without intention. There need be no point or purpose. At least not in the sense of aiming to achieve anything. Only once thought begins to develop does the idea, “I’m not very good at drawing” arise. Before then, it’s just not an issue. It is simply play for play’s sake.As we grow older, we ...