But in that moment, there was only sound and it was like a symphony. No me, no trees, no wind, no names, or exclamations. The painting is Untitled because there is no name for that experience, really. The Buddhists call it emptiness, other faiths might call it God. But to name it limits it. Interestingly, in Buddhism and in the Tao, this deep wisdom, this infinite source, is feminine.

Tall skinny pine tree-tops stood in silhouette against the illuminated thin clouds — like minute hands pointing to noon on a clock. I was moving slowly. So slowly that each time I rounded the dagoba, the sun was in a new position relative to the tree tops. Which really meant that the earth was rotating relative to the sun and it felt oddly linked to my walking. Both grand and minuscule motions were rotating in harmony as I walked and each time I came around to find the earth had moved a little further. I felt light and grounded and part of the whole clockwork of the universe.

Walking on Earth is a miracle. Each mindful step reveals the Dharmakay. —Thich Nhat Hanh

To be entangled in all that mind activity makes the experience very heavy and sharp. It is difficult, but It doesn’t help to be angrily asking “Why me? Why this? This is my life?” Notice the feeling tone: “this is unpleasant.” And it can stop there. There are many different practices to stop the mind from spinning out. Looking for those five aggregates is one that works for me because the Buddhist teachings make sense to me, have shown me that even when it feels like a crucible, it may very well be an opportunity for transformation, for listening to instead of shouting at Life. For evoking the image of Thay walking, present in each step.

May we not be separated from the great happiness devoid of suffering.

I touched this once on retreat during the luminous heart-opening practice of tonglen and now it is a regular way of being. But when I first heard this Buddhist phrase (traditionally chanted to evoke compassion), I found it confusing. Incomprehensible, actually. One of my earliest memories is of walking in snow behind my father who was carrying my sleeping younger sister. He pointed out Orion, so visible in the winter night sky. The body, belt and, sword are hard to un-see once pointed out. I later learned that there is also a club in one raised hand and a shield thrust forward in the other hand. Orion is a hunter and clearly ready to fight and defend. This stance characterized much of my young adult life. This wasn't obvious to people from my calm and kind — and shy — exterior, but it characterized my inner life until at 33 a medical diagnosis changed my outlook on life and began a gradual process of opening to that great happiness.

I just spent five days meditating at home as part of a zoom retreat. The teacher would end every session by sending love and kindness. And as much as I talk about love, I had to acknowledge that in those moments I wasn't feeling it. What was coming up instead was grief. (You never know what's going to come up when you sit down and be quiet and look at your mind for days on end.) It seems I had been ignoring a growing sadness about not spending time outdoors and in physical activity the way I used to. Simply by acknowledging this grief changed it, released it, and reconnected my heart.

“Whatever you do will be insignificant, but it is very important that you do it.”

This quote is attributed to the great sage, Gandhi. It was on a banner given to me many years ago and that I dutifully hung in my house. All the quotes on the banner resonated with me except this one. It didn't make sense for years until, finally, the Buddhist teaching of dependent origination began to shift and settle into my consciousness and alter my perspective: every action ripples in the universe. And this makes every action both insignificant and important.

A new year. A new undertaking. Introducing my first ever blog… Each morning, for about a year, I recited a list of koans, gathas, slogans, and poetry I had memorized. The above phrases are an example of a gatha — a daily, hourly, or momentary touchpoint that can be written down somewhere or memorized. This one is from Thich Nhat Hanh’s list of 44 gathas. Once such phrases had a resonance in my daily life, I began recording the reflections and insights that emerged. They have become a jumping-off point for this blog that will also include some bits of wisdom, inspiration, and humour that spontaneously emerge out of the depths of wherever those things come from. I’m not necessarily wise, inspiring, or funny but those moments happen in the midst of life, practice, and study. Perhaps often enough to populate this 52-week series of posts.