Digging Deep

Cheers from 35,003 feet up in the Delta sky. I’m headed home from Las Vegas and had the great fortune of running into one of my heroes at the hotel. I hopped off the treadmill yesterday and nearly walked right into Brian May, the lead guitarist of Queen. Imagine one of the biggest rock stars in the world in a black t-shirt, flowery shorts, the whitest legs of all time, and white sneakers, pedaling away on an exercise bike.

I’ve always known he was a brilliant guy, astrophysicist and of course, master guitarist, but what surprised me was his presence. When I saw him by the pool later, he was sitting motionless with his legs in the water, the sun on his face, eyes closed, absolutely absorbed in the moment. He opened his eyes as I was walking by him, and he offered the kindest smile and wave. You know how you occasionally meet someone who automatically centers you with their own calm, confidence, and energy? Then some of that rubs off on you, this lovely feeling that everything is going to be all right. I’m still high from the encounter. And I tell you what, I needed it.

When I’m wrapping up a novel, I lose it a little bit. I don’t know if it’s the fear of putting something new out there or perhaps the exhaustion anyone feels toward the end of a long project. But I find myself needing to dig much deeper in order to tap into my true self and connect with that greater source out there.

So I’ve been downing some really good books I want to tell you about. As you’ll hear me say often, The Power of Now changed my world years ago. I had no idea that my thinking mind wasn’t really me. That the real me could separate and watch my thinking mind rush around like a wild man. The moment I finished, I read it again. And then I’ve spent the time since trying not to fall back into that left-brain-controlled, walking dead trance.

My wife said something the other day that really cracked me up… and made sense. She’s about forty-million light years/miles closer to enlightenment than me, so when she speaks her wisdom, I listen. We were talking about mindfulness, and I was telling her how it can be a curse sometimes. Watching your thoughts and chasing presence can be painful and exhausting. That whole “ignorance is bliss” thing is so true. It’s so easy to get lost in your thought world and fall into a trance that burns entire days. But then you’re a zombie missing out on life! She called me agro-mindful, meaning mindful in an aggressive way. Which is quite true. Sometimes I get so furious at my left brain for sprinting like it does.

And then I started Radical Acceptance: Embracing Your Life with the Heart of the Buddha by Tara Brach. She reminded me that you can’t judge your thoughts. Once you separate and start watching, you can’t get angry at yourself for those thoughts. That’s just what we humans do, we think. A lot. You’ll like this book for so many reasons, but this nice reminder is what I valued most. Perhaps the first step in awakening is to separate ourselves from our thoughts/ego. And then the second is to be okay with those thoughts, to calmly watch them sans judgement. And if we don’t throw attention at the monkey mind, the quiet comes. FINALLY. And we can get a little closer to Brian May’s apparent blissful state. I guarantee you when he is playing in front of 70k screaming fans, he’s not pinned down by the critic inside yapping away.

This lesson reminded me of something Jack Kornfield says. He likens the wandering mind to a wandering puppy you’re training to stay. You don’t strike the puppy every time he disobeys. You bring him back lovingly and say sweet things, reminding him to stay. Over and over again until he gets it.

I also just finished Waking Up: A Guide to Spirituality Without Religion by Sam Harris. I listened to the Audible version, which he narrates himself. And he sounds just like Kevin Costner. It’s really good! Some of you might be turned off by the title but I hope not. My favorite takeaway is a chapter he devotes to defining the self. How do you define “I?” Is it everything from head to toe? What if we lose a limb? We’re still us. So am “I” the stuff right behind my eyes? What about the energy that seems to occupy the rest of the body? Anyway, he does a much better job of exploring the notion than I do. I love it when someone pushes you to question things.

I’ll leave you with a Rumi quote Tara shared in her book:

“Don’t turn away. Keep your gaze on the bandaged place. That’s where the light enters you.”

Take care,

boo

P.S. Hold on, wait. I can’t end with Rumi. Because weeeeeeeeeeee are the champions, my friends.