Showing posts with label Buddhism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Buddhism. Show all posts
Tai Chi and Buddhist Meditation - Ancient Solutions to a Modern Problem
The source of the original article is here
The heart of our modern problem. Our daily lives are crowded, our minds are continually taken away from the here and now, constantly focusing on a problem, a thought, an emotion. Often these things are merely distractions. They aren't truly important. Certainly there are some things that are important and critical to our families and our daily lives but in this modern, crowded world it is quite often difficult to find the time to sort out the important from the unimportant. Then we come to our bodies. We find it difficult to give our bodies the attention they deserve. We eat when we find time and grab what we can. Convenience food, processed food. We do jobs which result in us sitting for long periods, often in incorrect postures. Many of us don't even walk correctly.
The solutions to all of this aren't easy. We have to make time for ourselves, time for our minds to settle and sort out the things that are important to us. Time to re-train our bodies and to think about the food we are putting into them. Time for gentle, correct exercise to re-adjust our bodies out of all those bad habits. We do have something to guide us to a more healthy place.
There are two disciplines, one mental and one physical. They have both been developed over a period of about 2500 years. One originated in India, the other in China. We have all encountered these disciplines but not many of us understand them. Our views are confused and hide their true nature. Our confusion arises from the presentation in the media, mainly in films. But we do know them, we just need to learn how to use and understand them correctly.
They are the Taoist (pronounced dow-ist) art of T'ai Chi and the Buddhist approach to meditation.
Now that the reader knows the names, all manner of preconceptions will arise. So here is your first lesson in Buddhist meditation. Try, if you can, to put these preconceptions to one side. Try to imagine you know nothing about either of these disciplines. Relax and let this article take you to somewhere new.
Clearly a magazine article can only scratch the surface of these subjects but the intention here is to give you a flavour. So that you can recognise the benefits for yourself. At least then, you can make a more reasoned choice. Whether to carry on the way you are, or set out on a new journey.
We will start with the physical. T'ai Chi. Although under the bonnet T'ai Chi is a martial art (a fighting art) but over the centuries people have discovered the benefits to be gained by studying T'ai Chi. T'ai Chi is a soft art. The form, which is a long series of moves and is a fundamental exercise of the art is typically practised slowly. The aim being to soften the movements and to keep the body and the mind flowing in harmony from beginning to end.
Don't be fooled into thinking that this is easy. T'ai Chi can be very strenuous. But strenuous in a way that is very different to say jogging or visiting the Gym. T'ai Chi exercises the body at a very deep level. Strengthening and stretching tendons and ligaments rather than the larger muscle groups. Also, muscles are exercised in a balanced, symmetrical manner ensuring balance throughout the body as fitness improves. Because of this T'ai Chi lessens the likelihood of injury and can also be a good compliment to other exercise regimes.
There are other physical benefits too. As T'ai Chi works through a series of repetitive moves it can help with the balance mechanisms of the body, even re-training the brain to work with a slightly damaged balance mechanism in the inner ear.
Postural awareness is a crucial benefit as T'ai Chi puts great emphasis on a correctly aligned spine and head.
The cardio-vascular system can also be improved through the practise of T'ai Chi. Again this is down to the study of those slow repetitive movements which over time encourage the body into a slow steady rhythm in terms of both blood flow and breathing. Over time we find that our breathing deepens, circulation improves, blood pressure lowers and heart rate drops.
There is an important message here. In this modern world people are always looking for the quick fix. Recently a friend and fellow T'ai Chi instructor developed an agreement with a GP such that the GP would refer patients who he felt would benefit from T'ai Chi. The service has now been withdrawn. The patients didn't want to wait. They wanted the pill, the quick fix. They couldn't be bothered with the practise required for T'ai Chi. They were missing the point. This article doesn't seek to undermine the value of modern medicine, but let me give you an example. If you have a spine which is out of alignment, do you practise T'ai Chi and re-align the spine in a gentle, non-invasive manner, or do you merely take a paracetomol to take away the pain in your shoulders and neck?
Finally, let's look at stress relief. Here we start to touch on the synergy with Buddhist meditation. T'ai Chi is moving meditation. Through the study of the repetitive moves we concentrate on the minutia involved. We study, feel, acknowledge the subtle changes in balance, we listen to our bodies, to the flow of energy and the very feel of the ground. When we study T'ai Chi we are completely in the here and now. It is not a hugely understood area but it may be that this meditative aspect of the art leads to the stress relief. The rhythms present in the moves force a relaxed rhythm in the mind. Certainly there are plenty of people saying that T'ai Chi relieves tension and stress but the reasons aren't obvious.
So we move to Buddhist meditation. Firstly it is important to say that many people meditate and that there are many forms of meditation. We shouldn't get hung up on the particularly label 'Buddhist'. However, Buddhist meditation has had around 2500 years to develop and mature and what has come out is a well structured approach. Let me first remove a preconception. Meditation is certainly not about learning to control your mind. If you set out to control your mind you will fail at the first fence. The mind is like a rough sea. The thoughts, ideas and emotions go crashing around on the surface. When we meditate we are striving to understand and listen to the cool calm blue waters underneath this chaotic surface.
At the heart of many forms of meditation and certainly the meditation I practise from the Theravada tradition of Buddhism are the two practices of mindfulness and insight meditation. Mindfulness starts with the simple awareness of our own minds and bodies in the here and now and in that sense is extremely similar in its feel to T'ai Chi. Buddhist meditation gives us some very interesting and simple structures and approaches to this. By simply watching the breath we slowly over the months draw our attention back into our minds and bodies. Although we aren't controlling our mind we are teaching it to concentrate. In a way it shows us that there are two parts to our minds. The part that carries out all that noisy thinking, and the other part which has the capability to quietly watch that first part at work, study it and understand it. This is all a gentle process. If we worry too much or become too exited when we learn something new our calm meditative state comes crashing down. Once we have learnt to concentrate our minds and ignore the clatter and noise going on in there we gradually calm our minds. We never control it, but we do calm it. Then we move on to Metta Bhavana. A beautiful meditation. Here we meditate on the concept of friendliness and so we study how we react and interact with others. Again, this takes time. We naturally tend to focus on the negative aspects of people. If you don't believe me, think about gossip and how that develops. How people talk about other people when they aren't in the room! This goes on in our minds as well, even if we aren't aware of it. With Metta Bhavana we break the habbit of a lifetime and focus on the positive aspects of human relationships, friendliness.
Just the same as T'ai Chi, meditation takes many years to master and in fact to truly master both, the following phrase applies. 'Keep the beginners mind'. Only with the acceptance and enthusiasm of a beginner will you keep the process of discovery going that is necessary for both disciplines.
Finally, let me give you a warning. Through this article I have kept re-stating that both disciplines require practice. Many years of practice. However, when you do reach the point where you start to experience the benefits discussed, I can almost guarantee that you will have forgotten why you set out on this journey in the first place. Like me, you will have discovered the deep joy in both the arts and you will probably not really care about the benefits they are delivering. T'ai Chi will be in your body and your soul and meditation will be changing you whole perception of the world around you and the way you work with others. So be warned, T'ai Chi and Buddhist meditation are real journeys, not to be taken lightly.
For further information about this article contact Andy Spragg, Re-Vitalise T’ai Chi.
andy.spragg@re-vitalise.co.uk or call 08000 191 635
Andy Spragg is an experienced Tai Chi instructor with 16 years of teachning experience. Andy is the owner of Re-Vitalise, a company specialising in weekend breaks and retreats in Tai Chi and meditation. These are full board retreats held in tranquil locations throughout the UK.
Andy is a Buddhist and focusses on the synergy between Tai Chi and Buddhist meditation in his teaching.
Tai Chi and Buddhist Meditation - The Synergy
The source of the original article is here
I have written this series of articles as I find a great deal of synergy between Tai Chi and Buddhist meditation. In fact that Synergy allows me to use my Tai Chi as an alternative moving meditation. I have been practicing Tai Chi now for 17 years and I find that it is an excellent expression of mindfulness.
The Buddha's Dharma (teaching) has been passed down through a number of lectures (Sutta's) which initially were memorized by the Monks and then documented some 400 years after the Buddha's death.
Mindfulness is a fundamental cornerstone to Buddhism and Buddhist meditation. The four foundations of mindfulness are described in the Satipatthana Sutta.
In this article I have taken the four foundations and described the synergy and experience that can be gained when considering them with the practice of Tai Chi. Within the article, I have first quoted the relevant text from the Satipatthana Sutta in this script and then set out my observations. This Sutta was part of a great set of writing originally written in the Pali language and known as the Pali Cannon. The Pali Cannon has come down from the Theravada Bhuddist tradition. The translation here was completed by the American Buddhist monk Thanissaro. In places you may find the sutta a little direct. People generally have many preconceptions of Buddhism and certainly one pre-conception is the gentleness of the religion. Therefore many people find they are a little shocked by the direct nature of many of the Buddhis Sutta's. This one is certainly no exception. Buddhism is in fact extremely direct. Dealing with life directly as it is, without overlaying artificial sentiment on top.
Satipatthana -- the foundations of mindfulness
I have heard that on one occasion the Blessed One was staying in the Kuru country. Now there is a town of the Kurus called Kammasadhamma. There the Blessed One addressed the monks, "Monks."
"Lord," the monks replied.
The Blessed One said this: "This is the direct path for the purification of beings, for the overcoming of sorrow & lamentation, for the disappearance of pain & distress, for the attainment of the right method, & for the realization of Unbinding - in other words, the four frames of reference. Which four?
"There is the case where a monk remains focused on the body in & of itself - ardent, alert, & mindful - putting aside greed & distress with reference to the world. He remains focused on feelings... mind... mental qualities in & of themselves - ardent, alert, & mindful - putting aside greed & distress with reference to the world.
We should start by looking at this wonderful term 'mindfulness' and examine what it means in the context of this article.
Mindfulness, is essentially full awareness of the present moment. It is true that our knowledge and experience of the world is limited to our 5 senses. Through these senses we experience the world in its raw nature limited by the capabilities of theses senses. On top of this, Buddhist psychology adopts the mind as the 6th sense. Just as the other senses have stimuli (sense of smell is triggered by the chemical properties of the air entering our nostrils, our sight is triggered by the wavelengths of light entering our eyes) so our mind has stimuli. The stimuli here are our feelings, thoughts and emotions which trigger the mind. Generally, when a sensation, smell, sound etc is experienced by one of our 5 senses, the first thing our minds do is an immediate categorization. Do we like or dislike the sensation or smell etc or are we neutral to it. So this initial impression happens at an extremely simple level.
Next, the mind takes over. It now starts to overlay all of our previous conditioning, memories, ideas and concepts and directs us to either have aversion to the experience or to crave it. Even in the case of a neutral first impression, this may trigger aversion. Our mind is like a small child. It constantly craves attention and something to do. Therefore neutral stimuli are of no interest to it and aversion can arise as a result.
When we are fully mindful, we learn to experience our 5 senses directly without all the additional overlay from our minds. We are also aware of the way our minds are working. We are able to identify that first, split second initial response to the stimuli when our minds choose to like or dislike the moment. Therefore, if we are mindful, we can capture this moment, before our mind wanders on and adds all the other stuff that it likes to play around with and lay on top of the true experience. In this way, we experience the moment fully and completely, as it is. In the fuller sense.
Tai Chi, I believe is, essentially, an exercise in mindfulness. The practice of Tai Chi requires us to give the exercises our fullest concentration. We learn to keep our mind concentrated on the movement of our body and to understand the energy flowing through it. Buddhist meditations focus the mind on a single subject, allowing us to exercise the mind in a way that allows mindfulness to develop because, typically, the subject is our own body or the environment we are perceiving. Tai Chi enhances this as it gives us an extremely strong reference point to concentrate on. Tai Chi is very much an experience of the body in the given environment, pure and simple. Therefore, the level of concentration on mind and environment is very strong and helps to build up the experience of mindfulness.
The Sutta consists of 4 foundations and I have taken each of these individually and compared them with the practice of Tai Chi.
The First Foundation, The Body
"And how does a monk remain focused on the body in & of itself?
[1] "There is the case where a monk - having gone to the wilderness, to the shade of a tree, or to an empty building - sits down folding his legs crosswise, holding his body erect and setting mindfulness to the fore [lit: the front of the chest]. Always mindful, he breathes in; mindful he breathes out.
The Buddha always emphasized the need to take ourselves away from our noisy lives. Here we see he instructs us to 'go to the wilderness'. Clearly this isn't always easy, but the message is clear. Take ourselves away from our daily lives. Switch off the radio, switch off the phone. To a tai chi practitioner this is understood. We cannot hope to keep our mind concentrated on our form if our daily lives keep interfering.
Also, posture is introduced here and we can learn something about posture from both the discipline of meditation and Tai Chi. When we begin our Tai Chi form we stand in Wuji (the void). Although standing, our back is straight, our head balanced, arms hanging down. Everything is relaxing down. We develop the impression of being pulled up from the crown of the head and at the same time we relax down. In this way we become rooted, grounded. The idea of 'grounding' was incredibly important to the Buddha. Indeed at the moment of enlightenment we understand that he touched the ground, to help with his battle against Mara (Mara personifies unskillfulness, the "death" of the spiritual life. Mara is a tempter, distracting humans from practicing the spiritual life by making the mundane alluring or the negative seem positive.) We understand the touching of the ground today to mean that the Buddha was seeking help merely by contact with earth. Somehow contact with the earth helps to keep us in the hear-and-now. Reminding us to be mindful. At the start of the Tai Chi form, in Wuji, we are doing something similar. We simply stand and become aware of our contact with the ground. We are relaxed but alert, along the feeling of the ground to press itself up through out joints and ligaments through our bodies to the top of our heads.
"Breathing in long, he discerns that he is breathing in long; or breathing out long, he discerns that he is breathing out long. Or breathing in short, he discerns that he is breathing in short; or breathing out short, he discerns that he is breathing out short. He trains himself to breathe in sensitive to the entire body and to breathe out sensitive to the entire body. He trains himself to breathe in calming bodily fabrication and to breathe out calming bodily fabrication. Just as a skilled turner or his apprentice, when making a long turn, discerns that he is making a long turn, or when making a short turn discerns that he is making a short turn; in the same way the monk, when breathing in long, discerns that he is breathing in long; or breathing out short, he discerns that he is breathing out short... He trains himself to breathe in calming bodily fabrication, and to breathe out calming bodily fabrication.
"In this way he remains focused internally on the body in & of itself, or externally on the body in & of itself, or both internally & externally on the body in & of itself. Or he remains focused on the phenomenon of origination with regard to the body, on the phenomenon of passing away with regard to the body, or on the phenomenon of origination & passing away with regard to the body. Or his mindfulness that 'There is a body' is maintained to the extent of knowledge & remembrance. And he remains independent, unsustained by (not clinging to) anything in the world. This is how a monk remains focused on the body in & of itself.
Buddhism and Buddhist meditation uses the body as an absolute reference point for the establishment of mindfulness. In one of the classic meditations, Anapanasati, it is the breath that is used for bare attention and the growth of mindfulness. But what ever we are using as our reference, the message in this passage is clear. We are to experience the subject exactly as it is. It is extremely easy for us to overlay something on the subject with our minds. All manner of thoughts start to come up and very quickly the mind takes over. A simple example of this is with a small pain in the body. When meditating, typically we sit cross legged on the mat with our posture straight. Small aches and pains can arise in the legs and body from an extended time sitting in a single position (something we don't often do if we aren't used to meditating) If we let our mind take control, thoughts come in. "Ouch my leg is aching, I really should move to ease the ache but the meditation teaches me that I should hold the position. Oh! The pain, this meditation is ridiculous, why do I want to do this anyway. What a crazy idea to sit here with this pain. I'm going to get right off this cushion and walk around and ease the pain" If we give in to our mind in this way we will never make progress. If we simply look subjectively at the sensation underlying the pain we often find that it is a great deal less than our mind is visualizing. The ache comes and goes in waves and if we relax into it, quite often it passes altogether. This isn't some strange exercise in masochism! The reader needs to understand here that we are talking about bare attention. The practise of seeing things exactly as they are, not how our minds might interpret them.
Tai Chi gives us an opportunity for this type of practice. Tai Chi, once we are well practiced and know the form well, we discover has a rhythm all of its own. A gentle progression through the form. Continually moving from one posture to the next. Never stopping. This is a little like the breath. When we breathe, it is almost impossible to spot a gap between the in breath and the out breath. The breath seems to continually flow. Tai Chi is like this. The form flows and the awareness of our mind can be placed firmly on the form to observe that flow. When we practice our form we don not force any breathing into the form, we do not add strength to the form. We simply allow the form to flow. However, the form is not limp. It has tone, form and direction, just as our breath does. It travels.
Our form allows us to fully experience our bodies. As we move through the form we observe every stretch of every muscle, the feel of the ground, the temperature of the air around us, the rustle of our clothing against our bodies, the taste in our mouths, the light hitting our eyes. We experience everything from within the bounds of the form.
[2] "Furthermore, when walking, the monk discerns that he is walking. When standing, he discerns that he is standing. When sitting, he discerns that he is sitting. When lying down, he discerns that he is lying down. Or however his body is disposed, that is how he discerns it.
"In this way he remains focused internally on the body in & of itself, or focused externally... unsustained by anything in the world. This is how a monk remains focused on the body in & of itself.
[3] "Furthermore, when going forward & returning, he makes himself fully alert; when looking toward & looking away... when bending & extending his limbs... when carrying his outer cloak, his upper robe & his bowl... when eating, drinking, chewing, & savoring... when urinating & defecating... when walking, standing, sitting, falling asleep, waking up, talking, & remaining silent, he makes himself fully alert.
"In this way he remains focused internally on the body in & of itself, or focused externally... unsustained by anything in the world. This is how a monk remains focused on the body in & of itself.
Walking is clearly important here. In Buddhist meditation we have the idea of walking meditation. The Buddha emphasized walking meditation and walked many miles himself during his lifetime. In Tai Chi, stepping is carried out with great care. When we place a foot on the ground we fully experience the moment. We don't just lurch our weight into the foot. We make contact with the ground as if we are tasting the ground with our foot. We notice the moment when we experience the first tiniest pressure through the sole of the foot (usually centering around the bubbling well point, an energy point on the foot. Then, with the body moving as a complete, unified entity, we shift our weight into the foot. We study the way the energy flows through the body as the weight settles into the foot. Our weight is like a liquid, a thick oil which slowly flows into the leg. We examine the increase in pressure on the foot as our energy moves. And all the time, we keep aware of everything else that is happening, the sights, smells, temperature, taste etc. We are fully in the moment when we take the step.
[4] "Furthermore... just as if a sack with openings at both ends were full of various kinds of grain - wheat, rice, mung beans, kidney beans, sesame seeds, husked rice - and a man with good eyesight, pouring it out, were to reflect, 'This is wheat. This is rice. These are mung beans. These are kidney beans. These are sesame seeds. This is husked rice,' in the same way, monks, a monk reflects on this very body from the soles of the feet on up, from the crown of the head on down, surrounded by skin and full of various kinds of unclean things: 'In this body there are head hairs, body hairs, nails, teeth, skin, flesh, tendons, bones, bone marrow, kidneys, heart, liver, pleura, spleen, lungs, large intestines, small intestines, gorge, feces, bile, phlegm, pus, blood, sweat, fat, tears, skin-oil, saliva, mucus, fluid in the joints, urine.'
An incredibly important aspect of Buddhist meditation is to see our bodies objectively, exactly as they are. Not glorifying our bodies but not being reviled by them either. Just witnessing them for what they are, not categorizing areas as 'pleasant' or 'unpleasant' just 'noticing'. We do this to, again, try to remove the additional impressions, desires, cravings and aversions that the mind overlays on all of our experiences. Pushing us towards what is known as 'equanimity' and the ability to view everything with equal objectivity.
I believe Tai Chi can help us with this. We have only one body and we are rather stuck with it! So when we practice our Tai Chi, we practice with the limits that our bodies present. Some of us are flexible, some of us aren't. Some of us may be blind, some have illnesses in the joints. None of these things stop us from practicing Tai Chi fully and completely because despite the limitations our bodies may give us we can still experience being fully in the moment, fully alive, through the practise of Tai Chi.
For further information about this article contact Andy Spragg, Re-Vitalise T'ai Chi.
Andy Spragg is an experienced Tai Chi instructor with 16 years of teaching experience. Andy is the owner of Re-Vitalise, a company specializing in weekend breaks and retreats in Tai Chi and meditation. These are full board retreats held in tranquil locations throughout the UK.
Andy is a Buddhist and focusses on the synergy between Tai Chi and Buddhist meditation in his teaching.
Beauty Is In The Eye Of The Beholder, And So Is Suffering
The source of the original article is here
I've always found the phrase "beauty is in the eye of the beholder" a fascinating phrase. And as a Buddhist even more so.
I remember, on retreat, I had a brief flash of insight when I heard a bird singing in the forest. The birdsong was, I felt, beautiful and for me seemed to deepen the silence of the wood. I asked why the bird was singing. The answer came almost immediately. That bird was singing because of suffering. It was singing because of its own cravings and desires. The desire for food, which all creatures have, and the desire to procreate, which again, all creatures have. Including us. So at a very base level, it was singing because of suffering. Suffering induced by these very simple desires.
This may seem like a very obvious and straightforward conclusion. However, that day in the forest I felt that answer very intimately and suddenly the whole beauty of the forest was filled with suffering. Suffering was all around me and I now understood that very basic message given by the Buddha and given in the first two noble truths. That in life there is always suffering and that suffering is due to our own cravings and desires.
Back in the retreat, I discussed this with the retreat leader. Feeling quite content with my understanding I had to start rethinking when he said, "yes, but what makes you think the birdsong is beautiful?" At the time I must confess to feeling a little deflated by this (in itself, not particularly mindful of me) but it has led me to further meditations and thinking and therefore to this article.
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Actually, I think my understanding has now deepened a little. I think that suffering is necessary for us to appreciate beauty. What is beauty? I feel now, in my meditations that actually beauty is a mental formation born out of our deep appreciation of suffering. The Buddhist view is that Buddha-hood is within us all. I think this may be a direct example of this. Beauty and our view of something as beautiful is a direct result of our appreciation of the suffering in our lives.
When we see something as beautiful, we see it (or hear it or taste it or feel it or smell it!) on many levels. Initially there will be the simple appreciation of the direct colour, texture, taste, smell etc. Then something deeper happens. Beauty touches our 'soul'.
In order to try to illustrate this, I have picked a subject which, for me, invokes beauty. A sunset. I love sunsets! I've picked this deliberately as it is particularly difficult to see the suffering in a sunset! I have meditated on this for some time and really, this article talks through these meditations.
In order to set out my conclusions I need to outline the steps I have gone through in my meditations. I had a suspicion that the different levels of the appreciation of beauty line up with the Buddhist view of the pañca khandha or the five aggregates. The more I meditate on this, the more I feel the interconnection of all things and therefore the intimate nature and connection we have with the suffering in our experience, and everything else's experience living on this earth and therefore the deep sense of beauty we sometimes feel. The pañca khandha takes us through the 5 base things that make up our appreciation of the world around us. Form, feelings, perception, formation and consciousness. I have approached the sunset from the perspective of the five aggregates.
First and foremost form. A sunset just is. It is essential a complex form of dependents arising. The time of day, the position of the earth in relation to the sun, the texture of the atmosphere, the clouds in the sky, whether over water or land, any pollution or other particles in the sky, the texture of the land (cityscape, fields, mountains etc). When I observe the sunset and meditate I first try to see the sunset as it is. A mix of colours and there positions relating to each other. The perspective, the position I am sitting etc. It is extremely difficult to do this because what arises next happens in an instant. We naturally travel through the 5 aggregates in "a twelfth of a finger-snap" and jump straight to beauty. Concentrated mindfulness is required to get anywhere close to understanding this. But if I can just break this down, and observe what happens next, then I can start to appreciate something. The tricky thing is that beautiful sunsets don't happen all that often in rainy Bedfordshire so the opportunity to practice meditation on a sunset directly is rare. However, in my meditations I have experienced that our minds do have the ability to recall the 'form' of something, i.e. an image, separately to the other 4 aggregates. Fascinating that, I think. It is almost that when we remember something, we rebuild our experience in real-time by running through the five aggregates again. This is both fascinating and encouraging. If my mind works in this way then I can break apart my perceptions, thoughts, consciousness within my meditations at any time and start to understand some of those deeply carved ruts in my mind, and maybe start to smooth them out.
So, back to the sunset. I meditate on feelings. A feeling in Buddhism is a very base-level mental formulation. Not, as we understand in the west as an emotion. It is simply the labeling of liking, dis-liking or a feeling of neutrality. With gentle meditation on the sunset I can feel my mind latch on to aspects of the image. The deepest red in the image and label 'liking'. I think that with a complex form like a sunset, we don't just go through the whole five aggregates in one go for the whole image. I find that I jump around and notice elements of the image. The colour of the foreground, the scale, the clouds in the sky and I feel myself noticing and labeling. Liking, disliking etc. Neutrality is the most interesting I think and just as important. Elements of the image go unnoticed until you break down the aggregates like this. Then I notice the things I don't usually notice because they are neutral to me. Maybe I noticed them before, but subconsciously. But now, the image becomes even more alive and complete. I also think that I maybe noticing feelings with one aspect of the sunset when I have already moved on to perception for another aspect. But to be honest, this is beyond me for the moment.
But certainly perception arises next. I label. Simply that. Red, pink, tree, green, smog, distant, near. I feel my minds craving and desire to label, to name, to describe. Perception can be both fascinating and frustrating. I remember once as a child traveling with my parents in a car through a town. As we traveled through the town I noticed how my mind leapt on all the signs. Straight away I heard the signs shouting in my mind and, rather oddly, I found myself getting frustrated that I couldn't shut my mind up. All these signs shouting at me. With the sunset, when I meditate on it, the labeling deepens. This has the effect of slowing down the five aggregates. The more I examine the image and meditate on perception, the slower the process seems to go. I guess the devil is in the detail!
But we haven't got to suffering yet. The suffering, I think, comes next. The next aggregate is Formation (saCsk
Andy Spragg is an experienced Tai Chi instructor with 16 years of teaching experience. Andy is the owner of Re-Vitalise, a company specialising in weekend breaks and retreats in Tai Chi and meditation. These are full board retreats held in tranquil locations throughout the UK.
Andy is a Buddhist and focuses on the synergy between Tai Chi and Buddhist meditation in his teaching.
Spring Meditation 2008
The source of the original article is here...
All the seeds of all the flowers of tomorrow are in the seeds of today. An Indian Buddhist saying.
I love this saying. For me it carries within it the fundamental message of dependent arising. No single flower or seed is independent of itself. It carries within it the past and the future. All the flowers of yesterday and all the flowers of tomorrow. In this meditation I am coupling this with the Buddhist approach of guardians of the sense doors and for me, this is the essence of the Dharma. In Buddhism, we have the concept of the 5 usual senses, plus the 6th which is the mind itself. Through our senses we open ourselves up to the world and experience it. If we apply mindfulness to these senses we can capture the essence of anything experienced and understand it. We can then decide if it is skillful and unskilful. I like this idea of skillful and unskilful, rather than good and evil. It feels softer and more forgiving somehow, and also somehow more personal. Rather than some higher power deciding our fate based on our thoughts and actions, we decide for ourselves. We are very much in control of our own destiny. Our own Karma!
I came to Buddhism because of its approach to the precepts. The precepts are :-
To refrain from
..harming living beings.
...taking things not freely given.
...sexual misconduct.
...false speech.
...intoxicating drinks and drugs causing heedlessness.
Although each precept describes that which is unskilful, for example "do not take what isn't freely given", unlike many other religions I love the positive view that is presented alongside - for example "Be generous"
Obviously this is explored here at the very high level, but Buddhism requires us to explore these precepts inside ourselves without reference (necessarily) to others. They become our personal measure and we are our own judges here. It is here that the guardians on our sense doors become important. Particularly the guardian on our mind. Our own 'mindfulness of mind'. This is why we meditate I believe. To help us to train ourselves to be mindful and able to catch the unskilful and develop the skillful.
However, coupled with this is the step in the Eightfold path of Right Effort. Although we judge ourselves, at the same time we are encouraged to be gentle on ourselves. Push ourselves, but not too hard. Guilt is a delusion in Buddhism. So we are encouraged to recognise our unskilful actions against the precepts, recognize and learn from them and then move on.
I think that the guardians on our sense doors are even more important today because of the nature of our modern world. We are constantly assailed with images, sounds, smells which probably are not too skillful. (Just take a look at the majority of our advertising. Most advertising these days breaks at least one of these precepts, particularly false speech!) We post our guardians and then with mindfulness, watch the feelings and emotions that are involved. If we can practice and maintain our mindfulness during the day, away from the cushion, then we have at least some chance of not allowing these unskilful elements to take hold. We can keep watch and just allow the positive seeds to develop.
Here we come back to this beautiful Indian saying. All the seeds of all the flowers of tomorrow are in the seeds of today
With mindfulness we develop our positive seeds and weed out the negative. The Buddha explained to us that actually, we are only alive for 1/64th of a finger snap. Everything before is a memory, everything to come is a plan, a fantasy, a dream. We are constantly being reborn and our actions take us forward to the next 1/64th lifetime. If we are mindful to the precepts, through the guardians on our sense doors, particularly the mind, then suddenly each 1/64th lifetime is important and worthwhile. Each is positive and each takes us forward to the next. We develop positive Karma.
A phrase I like to use here which sums this up is "As Buddhist, we capture and celebrate the most intimate nature of the present moment"
So the more I stay mindful, the more I capture each moment with mindfulness, aware of what I am feeling, thinking, doing, the better the next 1/64th lifetime will be.
This, for me at the moment is dependent arising and this is the experience of Karma. I carry forward the results of my previous lifetimes. Not lifetimes before this body was born, but lifetimes just moments ago. I love this way of thinking and I love the Dharma. And I am only just starting to experience and understand it!
Interestingly, this also underlines for me why I don't feel I make progress on the cushion during formal meditation. My meditation is practice for the following day. To help me stay mindful.
Cultivating mindfulness on this clear spring morning. With the sound of birdsong and the babbling brook, the guardians on my sense doors are far from busy. I feel the gardener in my mind, watching my thoughts, tip his hat in acknowledgment to Mara and her unskilful friends, but call and welcome in the skillful to his home.
Andy Spragg is an experienced Tai Chi instructor with 16 years of teaching experience. Andy is the owner of Re-Vitalise, a company specializing in weekend breaks and retreats in Tai Chi and meditation. These are full board retreats held in tranquil locations throughout the UK.
Andy is a Buddhist and focuses on the synergy between Tai Chi and Buddhist meditation in his teaching.
Every Breath You Take - An Analysis Of The Moment
The source of the article is here
"As Buddhists, we capture and celebrate the most intimate nature of the present moment". To me, this is the essence of the Dharma in my study at the moment. This article explores some of the reasons for this and, in a way, serves as a 'diary entry' for my experience at the moment.
I'm a big fan of the 80's group the Police and particularly the song 'Every breath you take'. The song itself, doesn't have a very optimistic history as it was written by Sting during the collapse of his first marriage
However, I do like the song and it cropped up in my meditations the other day and therefore contributed to my thoughts here. I was contemplating the phrase above that I use to describe the Buddhist approach. I came up with this phrase during a discussion at our drop in centre in Letchworth. "As Buddhists, we capture and celebrate the most intimate nature of the present moment". Although I practise the Metta Bhavana I find the Mindfulness of breathing the most important meditation for me at the moment. Also, in my practise of Tai Chi, this phrase is key. Tai Chi is fundamentally a mindfulness exercise and unless I keep myself squarely in the moment, I find my Tai Chi unsatisfactory somehow.
When do I make progress? - in meditation or afterwards?
My meditation practise is to rise at 3.00am. I find this time beautifully quiet with most other people asleep and the house calm. It almost feels like a mini retreat each night. Also, there is less opportunity for my mind to raise any guilty feelings towards all the things I should be doing while I am meditating. After all, at 3.00am, if I wasn't meditating, I would be sleeping! I find the time extremely fruitful and although I have a long way to travel on my meditation journey I find it relatively easy to slip into a calm state. I enjoy the concentrated peace and quiet it gives me. But where does that get me. Yes, I am relaxed, calm and concentrated but what does that mean in terms of progress. Actually, I believe that progress isn't really made on the cushion. I'm no expert on the sutta's and the formal teaching of the Dharma so I can only go with what I feel here. But I do feel that my progress is made during the day following the meditation. When I have a calm, concentrated meditation, I find that in general, from the moment I open my eyes, I am more mindful and that in general this follows through the day. For me this is a very positive thing. Buddhism has a reputation for requiring heavy renunciation. The impression can be given that the only real way to make progress is to lock yourself away in a cave or forest retreat for months on end.
I find this a very pessimistic view given our modern life, a way of life which is not going to change. The world we live in today is not going to get quieter, less stressful and less loaded with potential conflict. So, I have a desire to find a way to make progress in the dharma here, in our modern, busy world.
Some of my work is in London. London is very busy, noisy place and the journey in is far from easy. I used to dislike the journey intensely and was never happy in London. Coming from a life where I spent much of my time living in quiet, rural villages and towns I find London exceptionally noisy and smelly. However, my practise of the Dharma has radically changed my perspective. I enjoy the journey in. The train is still packed and the people still avoid each others eyes and hide in their newspapers. But now, I no longer feel hostile and defensive. Actually, I experience metta on that train. I sit quietly and experience the people
The Journey, The Struggle
This is mindfulness in everyday life. In our noisy, busy world. I sometimes wonder if progress in the Dharma is tougher now than it was in the Buddha's day. The tests on us are more blatant and obvious. Mara is a great deal more challenging to us when we walk around and are assailed with unskilful images all the time. So we have to be even more concentrated in this situation. Paying attention to our constantly changing mind-state as we pass through our day. The breath is now a great friend to me in practising this. An emotional hook. Helping me to stay mindful by constantly drawing me back.
For me, this Dharma journey is critically important. Working in London I see some incredibly aggressive and unskilful behaviour going on. Even in the office environment I see lying and aggression. It is here that the challenge becomes a very real experience. No longer just some sort of academic exercise. That office environment seems to draw me in to unskilful behaviour. Customer deliveries, late for delivery and the company requiring me to refrain from admitting responsibility, to 'spin' the message. This hits me at the core. 'Right Speech'. Not just refraining from untruths, my understanding of the Dharma teaches me to measure my progress by the depth of my truthfulness. So my core belief knocks up against the requirements of my work and I have to reconcile this.
In a way this is hard, but it is also fortunate. The very nature of this busy working environment highlights the importance of the Dharma for me. I experience directly what a lack of right speech can do. My organisations' Karma is visible.
In this way, my time on the cushion becomes even more important. Staying mindful and battling against Mara in the office and on the streets is hard work. At 3.00am in the morning, each day, I go on retreat. Just for 45 minutes I sit and watch my breath and experience peace and calm. This allows me to really see the nature of my daily life, to really understand the hectic nature of it. The unskilful actions that take place become more obvious. This time is a window on the truth of my day. It shows me how I am acting, the effects on my karma are palpable, tangible. Sometimes this is a hard journey but worthwhile. I feel more connected with life now. Less cloudy and uncertain.
But this is a massive journey. The Dharma, to me, is a very experiential journey. It isn't just a journey of faith. It is direct experience that takes me forward.
There is something else that is different in our modern world I believe, and I experience during mindful moments in my day. Our level of knowledge of the world. Our knowledge is incredible. Modern teaching methods mean we have a deep knowledge of science and nature that I'm sure was not available in the Bhudda's day. The observation I made when I was considering this was related to dependence arising. I was walking through a forest, considering the nature of the forest with the perspective of dependent arising. In a forest, plants and trees die, rot and new life springs. Water is constantly re-cycled. Creatures feed on the forest and other creatures feed on each other. "The flowers and seeds of tomorrow are in the seeds of today" in so many ways. It is a massively complex system. But despite all its complexity, we understand it to an extent because of our education. We learnt this level of science in the primary school classroom. So we are able to rationalise the dependent arising in a forest with science and it no longer scares us. BUT, we don't feel it in a deep experiential way. I believe the Bhudda did. I believe that he understood the nature of the forest because he experienced it at a very intimate level. Possibly because he had experienced his own interconnection with it. This is fascinating to me because the Buddha understood the nature of the forest, possibly to a deeper level than us, without access to the science we have today. This is insight. And I wonder if our huge encyclopaedic knowledge actually gives us an additional hindrance, a wall to break through to insight, that the Buddha didn't have. We are used to studying and learning in our particularly scholarly, scientific way. But I think that this may get in the way of our path to insight. Because as soon as we see something, we categorise, we theorise and we understand, to a limited extent, based on our existing knowledge. So, to get past this, we have to let go to an even greater extent, and see behind our own acquired knowledge. We have to start feeling the truth. This is a tall order.
Andy Spragg is an experienced Tai Chi instructor with 16 years of teachning experience. Andy is the owner of Re-Vitalise, a company specialising in weekend breaks and retreats in Tai Chi and meditation. These are full board retreats held in tranquil locations throughout the UK.
Andy is a Buddhist and focusses on the synergy between Tai Chi and Buddhist meditation in his teaching.
Autumn Meditation
The source of the article is here...
For me, the seasons represents 2 aspects. The path through my own life and the spiritual path. Firstly, the path through my life and how the seasons map this out. Autumn has particular significance for me.
Spring is birth (or re-birth!). Clearly, this is visible in the explosion of flowers and the greenery that erupts out from the trees and hedgerows. But in spring we catch elements of the previous winter, still left hanging. The ice. Maybe representing the Karma from my previous life? The odd, crisp frost still catches me in the spring. Ice and water from the winter have effects which pervade. As I tend the bonsai in my garden I find one of them with a broken terracotta pot, split by the ice. I will need to replace that in the summer when I re-pot. I notice the roof slate that has broken free and slipped down the roof. The winter has left its mark and things will have to be done to fix these affects. Untouched, the affects of the winter frosts will deepen their damage, so I must notice them and repair. Just like the Karma of a previous life, which I hopefully will notice in my mindful moments, then nurture and transform.
Spring is interesting, a beautiful time but a time when we are busy recovering from the winter and coping with the explosion of growth. It is comparable with our own spring of childhood where we are extremely busy learning and growing (and from a Buddhist perspective, possibly coping with the Karma bubbling up from a previous life, setting us in our place).
As the seasons progress we tend to start to forget about the previous winter and enjoy the moment or look forwards. But, just like Karma, the Winter still occasionally reminds us of its presence and its effects pervade right through the your (and the Karma, right through our life time). I still haven't replaced that Bonsai pot! So even though we may forget those effects, they are still there.
Summer comes, the summer of our youth. We now talk little of winter, of old age. However, even now, we get little reminders of what is to come. Even in Summer, the weather can deliver a sudden frost occasionally. And we do hear the stories of course. From our Grandparents and parents, about the 'dreadful winter of such and such...when the snows were 6 feet deep" These reminders come through, just like the reminders of old age and as a youth we begin to have the first glimmers of understanding around old age and death. Hot summers, just like the passion of our youth, raises energy, and can occasionally cause trouble. But unlike the frost and water from the previous winter, hopefully these problems will be short lived and quickly forgotten.
Autumn. I think I'm here in my life. Autumn is a beautiful time, full of grace and colour, cooler too. With time to dwell on the fun of the summer. But wisdom starts to set in. An understanding of what nature has in store for us as we catch the early frosts. Preparation too. The animals in the forest are eagerly burying food and the birds are eating to build up their fat reserves. They know the winter is coming and they are preparing. And maybe I am preparing too? My spiritual practise is certainly more intense and deeper than in my youth. Maybe I also see a winter coming and recognise the importance of preparation. So for me, this time in my life is very special. I have the wisdom of understanding of what is to come (to an extent) but also some of the energy left from my summer. I have the energy to practise. To prepare.
Winter comes, and a beautiful stillness. With the frosts come clear skies as we head on into the new year. Hopefully, when I reach this time, my Karma will be positive, ready to hand it over to the new year, a new life. Hopefully the frosts from the winter won't be quiet so disruptive for the next spring, the next life.
And what of the spiritual path? How does this compare with the seasons of the year? Each season, although giving us little tasters of the next, sit quietly with mainly their own particular nature and temperament. For weeks, that nature and temperament will largely be the same. Then, suddenly, change comes. The leaves fall and the frosts appear. Traveling home from retreat the other day, I noticed that in the space of a few days, autumn had well and truly rolled in. The trees had gone golden. This, for me, is the way the spiritual path travels. Many weeks of level, sustained practise. Battling against a particular barrier to meditation. Then sudden progress and a leap over the wall. On to the next season then.
Andy Spragg is an experienced Tai Chi instructor with 16 years of teaching experience. Andy is the owner of Re-Vitalise, a company specialising in weekend breaks and retreats in Tai Chi and meditation. These are full board retreats held in tranquil locations throughout the UK.
Andy is a Buddhist and focusses on the synergy between Tai Chi and Buddhist meditation in his teaching.
The Space Between Human Relationships - A Buddhist Perspective
The source of the article is here...
Contemplating Metta, I consider the space between people. There are moments, when we are both calm and receptive, when I can really feel and begin to understand the space between my partner and I. In these moments, I feel, wisdom is born. I can really FEEL it. I have to emphasize that word FEEL because it is there and it is tangible. A beautiful thing. I want to reach out and touch it. Rather than being simply a space between us, it is a 'something' that joins us closer. A connection. There are times when we seem to think the same thoughts and say the same things almost instantaneously. Surprising and exciting as these moments are, they don't come close to these moments when we sit quietly, move out of ourselves and into this space between us.
This is what I search for in my life. I'm fed up of space. Space between myself and others. I yearn for this connection. And where have I found it? In that very space where I least expected to find it, the space between myself and others. Suddenly that great chasm becomes the connection, the thing to be protected and understood.
These moments are so special because it is in these moments that this space between us becomes tangible and actually becomes more important than the me, the I. In these moments, I forget who I am, and remember who WE are. I could live here, in this space, if I only had the self discipline and the ability to let go of the 'I' fully.
I believe that if we as human beings pay attention to this space between us, seeking to simply connect, letting go of ourselves and focussing on just this, then Metta, that universal love that we all strive for, grows. When two people come together, if either are thinking or behaving in an unskilful way, maybe with selfishness, anger or even a feeling of competitiveness then the space between those two people will be just that. A space between. A space, bigger than anything we can imagine. But, if we behave skilfully then we start to perceive something there. Not something imagined but a real 'something'. Even with our humble five senses (plus the sixth of course, the mind) we can detect that space and the nature of it.
The more I let go of 'self', let go of my own ego and become aware of that interdependence between us all, the more tangible that space becomes. It is most tangible when we simply sit quietly with each other. Experiencing each other without saying or doing anything.
This space between us is to be nurtured and protected. Not just between our nearest and dearest but with all people we meet. I think this is the way we should be with all people and I think this was the Buddha's message along with many other prophets and sages down the ages. This is the toughest of all challenges. To stay in that space between. To not retreat into ourselves and our own ego's. That is the challenge that spirituality sets us.
However, the good news I believe? Even if just one person is pushing to connect in this way I believe there is progress. We work on extremely subtle levels us humans. There is nothing mysterious or psychic going on here, I don't believe. Merely the miracle of humans communicating. As long as one person is looking to connect, to develop that space between, then that deep, unconscious, communication comes into its own. Change then happens. The other person then has a choice. To accept the telephone call or otherwise. That's their choice.
So where am I going with my ramblings here? I think E.M Forster summed it up when he said 'Only Connect'.
That's our job. As Buddhists, as human beings actually. To connect with each other and to develop that space between us.
The Buddhist rule book seems to say 'let go of self', 'let go of ego'. But I still WANT to develop something. I think I've found it. I want to develop that space between me and other people.
After all, what else is there?
Andy Spragg is an experienced Tai Chi instructor with 17 years of teachning experience. Andy is the owner of Re-Vitalise, a company specialising in weekend breaks and retreats in Tai Chi and meditation. These are full board retreats held in tranquil locations throughout the UK.
Andy is a Buddhist and focusses on the synergy between Tai Chi and Buddhist meditation in his teaching.
People Are Landscapes, Beautiful and Complex
The source of this article is here....
"A Raindrop falls
Will it feed a river, flower perhaps or creature perhaps?
A thought trickles through the mind
Will it feed fear, anger or compassion?
Karma is born
We are a landscape"
This article was inspired by an experience a couple of years ago now, on Holy Isle, the Tibetan Buddhist Island, just off Arran. I was running a Tai Chi and meditation retreat there and taking some time out to rest. There is a lovely mountain in the middle of the island and one morning I took a run up it. I enjoy trail running. It keeps me fit and sometimes the concentration required is, to me, another form of meditation. The view from the top is gorgeous. I was standing on top and watching the rain sweep across the distant hills on Arran. You can see Goat Fell from there and it was looking very dark and moody across there that morning, although my hill top was in sunlight. Watching the rain and the landscape from a distance like this, it made me realise that I was watching dependent arising in action. For the benefit of non-Buddhists reading this, dependent arising, or pratityasamutpada, is the understanding that nothing exists in and of its own right. Everything is the result of some cause and effect. If fact, in Buddhism, each and every moment has this in its very nature. Even WE are the result of dependent arising, each and every moment of our lives. There is no single thing called 'me', just a set of interdependent events, actions and thoughts that create the perception of this thing called 'Andy Spragg'. I could spin off into a reverie about Karma at this point, but I'll try to resist the urge and stick to the point.
I realised that studying this landscape in front of me was a little like studying a person. Just as complex, just as intangible.
A single droplet of rain falls from the sky. Who can predict which way it will go? It may land on hard ground, flow into other flows of water and together form a stream, a river and cut down into the landscape in a very obvious but slow manner. The droplet may land on soil or a plant. Becoming absorbed as the plant sends its roots down. The plant itself, becoming part of this rich landscape. The roots subtly changing the soil below. Lichen may be nourished by the water and change the colour of the stone it is growing on. An animal may drink from a pond that the droplet has landed in. Who knows the way that animal may contribute to that landscape.
I started to see all these things within the landscape and the view before me was suddenly more complex and beautiful. But also fragile. I suddenly felt the very nature of change in this landscape at a very deep level. It was at this point, while studying this gorgeous vista in front of me that I started to think about people and the similarities with these thoughts.
When a person stands before me, I perceive what I believe is their character from what is displayed by their appearance and by the limited set of actions that I have witnessed since I have known them. Just like with the landscape, I am mislead by my perceptions. I don't see the equivalent of the drop of water.
The Buddha gave us this view of our minds, our thoughts, and how they build our character.
The thought manifests as the word;
the word manifests as the deed;
the deed develops into habit;
and habit hardens into character.
So watch the thought and its ways with care;
and let it spring out of love born out of concern for all beings.
As a Buddhist I believe that my body (yes, body!) and my mind at this point in time is literally the composition of all my previous thoughts and actions. There are clearly external influences that happen and the Buddha describes how these influences affect us too. But here the message is clear. Each single thought we have goes in to our makeup.
This is just like the raindrops in our landscape. Every thought is like a raindrop and we can never really predict what affect it's going to have on our character.
So when I study a person, I can't see these previous influences and I certainly am never going to be able to grasp the rich history that has created this person. Of course the person concerned, being studied by me, believes they understand their own character. They will have a much richer view than I do. They may even have some knowledge of the 'droplets of water' that have taken them to where they are now. (This, if you meditate on it, on your own 'droplets of water', makes you realise how little you know about yourself and about your own landscape. With practise, you start to dissolve. This is key experience if you are making progress with Buddhism I believe. It may sound a little frightening, but the experience is actually rather liberating). So, just like my perceptions of the landscape, my understanding and knowledge of the person before me is severely limited. How can I truly know and connect with this person when I view them from a distance like this.
To truly connect with a landscape, we have to walk within it. We can choose not too of course. But if we really want to understand it, to experience it in its fullest extent, we have to choose to step into it. However, when we do this, we do of course have to take the experience exactly as it is. When we walk up the steep hill, it makes no sense to shout at the hill and say 'you are too steep for me, you are making me tired' The hill will not change. When our boots get wet from the wet grass, we cannot actually do anything about this if we wish to cross the field. We simply have to accept it. After all, if the hill wasn't steep or the grass wasn't quite so lush and wet, the landscape would not be the same from that distant view. We must accept it as it is and simply view it and experience it.
Also, and most importantly, if we choose not to enter in, to see things from our distant, limited viewpoint, we may well miss the greatest beauty. There is a gorge in Crete called the Sumaria Gorge.
From the top of the gorge is a beautiful view. But the real gem of this gorge can only be seen when you step down into it. When you 'connect' with the landscape. In order to do this, you have to put your boots on and trek along a 9 mile, dusty, rocky path. Crete is a hot place so this is no easy task. The truly spectacular part of the walk is almost at the end. Here the gorge narrows to just a couple of metres wide and the river squeezes through this narrow place. The sheer height of the cliffs and the dramatic nature takes your breath away (if you've got any left after the hike!) But, if you hadn't connected with the landscape and entered in, taking everything as it is, you would never see this stunning scene and truly appreciate the beauty of Sumaria Gorge. You would miss the real beauty.
I believe that connecting with people is a little like this. We must be prepared to connect. But in order to do this we have to take them exactly as they are. There will be hills to climb and hot, dusty pathways. But we must just notice them, see them, every aspect of their character. This way, we find their most beautiful aspects and we will be surprised and delighted by the rich connection we then have with them.
There is no need to understand how each individual raindrop has shaped the landscape. We simply open all our senses and connect. Step in.
These days there seems to be so much analysis done on people. We are categorised and analysed. There are so many therapists out there figuring out why we are the way we are. Why do we need to know this to connect with each other? I don't believe we do for a minute. There is nothing to fear with connecting with people. We should celebrate our complexity and our individual nature.
Simply connect. There is nothing else to be done.
Andy Spragg, http://www.re-vitalise.co.uk
Andy Spragg is an experienced Tai Chi instructor with 16 years of teaching experience. Andy is the owner of Re-Vitalise, a company specialising in weekend breaks and retreats in Tai Chi and meditation. These are full board retreats held in tranquil locations throughout the UK.
Andy is a Buddhist and focusses on the synergy between Tai Chi and Buddhist meditation in his teaching.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)