eyes of a Buddha, everyone is a Buddha. In the eyes of a pig, everyone is a
pig."—Haemin Sunim, The
Things You Can See Only When You Slow Down.
Why do we resist doing the very thing
that would help us?
I don't know.
Steven Pressfield has written a book on the subject of Resistance (aka
procrastination) titled The
War of Art.
And motivated by Pressfield's quote, "The highest
treason a crab can commit is to make a leap from the rim of the bucket," I wrote a blog post titled "Take a Leap." (March 18, 2019), and
then, what did I do?
I resisted the one thing known to make life
Fifteen minutes a day. Big Deal.
I'm too busy.
Judging from the comments on https://travelswithjo.com,
the Take a Leap blog resonates with many people.
And yep, the crab quote is accurate. I looked up. "A
bucketful of crabs," says that if one crab tries to climb out of a bucket
filled with crabs, the others will try to pull the one on the rim back in.
With humans, I don't think—with few exceptions—that it's
the "others" who try to pull us back into the bucket, aka our "comfort zones". Instead,
it's our habits and brains.
And let's face it when we first begin to meditate, it
isn't fun. Our minds fight us. Our to-do lists grow exponentially, and hunger
and thirst kick roars in with a vengeance. It's like trying to put a toddler to
(Thanks to those who commented yesterday on Take a Leap,
for it reminded me to leap.) Here's an excerpt:
Have you ever decided to start a diet or
spiritual practice, maybe you would like to sponsor a child in some far-off
land, or perhaps you wanted to run for office. Maybe you wanted to get married,
have a child, or campaign for world peace.
You didn't do it, and the whole idea
quickly drifted away.
Are you a writer who doesn't write, a
painter that doesn't paint, or an entrepreneur who doesn't begin a venture?
Then you know what Resistance is.
War of Art, Pressfield says
that Resistance means not doing the work you were meant to do.
And here I am today, doing my oracle by opening a book to
a random page, and what did I find"
How to meditate.
The book was Ask,
and it is Given, the Teachings of
Abraham by Ester and Jerry Hicks.
I have followed the teacher Abraham whose speaker is
Ester Hicks. I've taken a few of Ms. Hick's workshops and, even by some quirk
of fate, ran into Ms. Hicks in a restaurant in Del Mar, California, when we
lived in Temecula, California. My daughter had only the week before begun
listening to Abraham on tapes. When I pointed out that there was Abraham, she
said, "Why did that happen?" My answer was, "To tell us it's
Is it working now, dear one? Have we lost the faith? Have
we become so discouraged as to leave behind the very thing that would raise us
I am speaking for myself.
Imagine a moment
of calm. Imagine a few moments when your mind isn't replaying the same thoughts
it thought yesterday. Imagine, rather than fighting your mind, you let the
thoughts run through without grabbing one and ruminating with it.
And here is the
clinker; you don't have to sit in a lotus position. You don't even have to sit.
You can do a walking meditation. (Try not to run into anybody, but then,
chances are they weren't meditating, and running into them might wake them up.)
I was right years ago when I considered feeding the horses, cleaning the barn,
and raking the yard a meditation. But you need the calm presence of a horse
munching hay to add to the ambiance.
I suggest that
instead of running out to clean somebody's barn, you condition your body to
know what it's supposed to do. Like, stop thinking. (I have heard that prayer
is Talking to God. Meditation is God talking to you.)
and place your thoughts on something simple, like breathing, counting, or
listening to the faucet drip.
I began with the