When There Are No Words
My living room window faces a giant tree, firmly rooted, growing wide toward the sky. My daily practice is watching my tree dancing in the summer breeze, now turning from green to yellow/orange. Watching the tree these past six months has marked this time of transition, and has slowly become a symbol of home. She reminds me of change, resilience, and equanimity. She reminds me I am safe, I am home.
During the last turbulent weeks worldwide, I’ve felt deep sorrow and guilt, though juggling the demands of my own life, I’m surrounded by my beautiful tree, safe from harm. Staying present in my practice during turbulent times is challenging as I balance “yes/and.”–I can have frustration with my life’s ups and downs while having compassion for those experiencing unthinkable loss and suffering.
Practice is not a place to hide; it is a place of respite when needed, a place to grow awareness and contemplate our connection to all (and everyone). Through practice, we grow equanimity and expand our hearts to offer others compassion. This expansion creates a capacity to step forward with right action in moments big and small. As Sharon Salzburg says, “Meditation does not replace action.”
Our practice allows us to engage in the world skillfully so that our thoughts, words, and actions contribute to the well-being of all. When there are no words to offer solutions or healing, our practice provides the awareness needed to be a small candle of light to those around us. That doesn’t solve all the turmoil in this world, but it is a start.
May all beings know peace, happiness, safety, and freedom from suffering.
Jai Bhagwan,
Susan


