Mindfulness Meditation Podcast - Mindfulness Meditation 10/7/15 with DaRa Williams

Episode Date: October 7, 2015

Every Wednesday, the Rubin Museum of Art presents a meditation session led by a prominent meditation teacher from the New York area. This podcast is a recording of the weekly practice. If you would like to attend in person, please visit our website at RubinMuseum.org/meditation to learn more. We are proud to be partnering with Sharon Salzberg and the teachers from the New York Insight Meditation Center. This week’s session will be led by DaRa Williams. To view a related artwork from the Rubin Museum's permanent collection, please visit: http://rma.cm/fz

Welcome to the Mindfulness Meditation Podcast. I'm your host, Dawn Eshelman. Every Wednesday at the Rubin Museum of Art in Chelsea, we present a meditation session led by a prominent meditation teacher from the New York area. This podcast is a recording of our weekly practice. If you would like to join us in person, please visit our website at rubinmuseum.org meditation to learn more. We are proud to be partnering with Sharon Salzberg and the teachers from the New York Insight Meditation Center. In the description for each episode, you will find information about the theme for that week's session, including an image of a related artwork chosen from the Rubin Museum's permanent collection. And now, please enjoy your practice. So when I came this evening, Don asked me, well, what was it that made you choose this particular piece of artwork to use as the jump-off point for whatever it might be that I was going to say?

And, you know, looking at this on the computer, it was very muted. I really couldn't see the detail of it or anything like that. And so I really was't see the detail of it or anything like that. And so I really was going on the energetic connection. And I was sent, oh, five or six pieces to consider. And this is the one that jumped out at me. And as I began to explore the representations in the piece, it seemed totally appropriate. And Jeremy actually took me upstairs just now before we started so that I could see the actual piece. And that's where I saw the real vibrancy of the gold color and the shimmering threads in it. And I said to him, I said, well,

you know, that's pretty appropriate. You know, most brown people are from the South, you know. And so the ancestors had something to say, I think, with me sitting up here speaking about this. The other piece that was interesting to me was that what was represented was this component of generosity. And I was like, well, what am I going to say about generosity? So I'm going to say just a little bit about it, and then we're going to do a meditation, and then there'll be

some opportunity for questions afterwards. But from one of the Buddhist texts, the Anagaritita, there's a quote I want to read, and talking about generosity as a treasure. and talking about generosity as a treasure. And what is the treasure of generosity? There is the case of a disciple of the noble ones, his awareness cleansed of the stain of stinginess, living at home, freely generous, open-handed, delighted in being magnanimous, responsive to requests, delighting in the distribution of alms or food. This is called the treasure of generosity. So, you know,

I ask you to maybe just consider for a moment, where are you in your life in relationship to this distinction of generosity? How do you engage with it? Where does it show up or not show up in your life, in your interactions, in your relationships? How are you able to actually move through the world, move through your life in a state of generosity, especially in these times and in this world that we live in now, that's a state of mind or a position which is not so often experienced and perhaps not so often given. So I looked in the dictionary about generosity, and that didn't do me. So then I went and looked at some quotes.

This is what some people had to say about generosity. That's what I consider true generosity. You give your all, and yet you always feel as if it costs you nothing. Simone de Beauvoir. Do all the good you can, by all the means you can, in all the ways you can, in all the places you can, at all the times you can, to all the people you can, as long as ever you can. John Wesley. It takes generosity to discover the whole through others. If you realize you are only a violin, you can open yourself up to the world by playing your role in the concert. Jacques Cousteau. I'm just going to read two more.

Being generous often consists of simply extending a hand. That's hard to do if you are grasping tightly to your righteousness, your belief system, your superiority, your assumptions about others, and your definition of normal. Patty did. your assumptions about others, and your definition of normal. Patty Digg. And of course, I couldn't be complete without reading, let's see, where is it? Generosity is the most natural outward expression of an inner attitude of compassion and loving kindness, the Dalai Lama.

So in hearing these quotes, you're starting to get a sense of the actual largeness of how one might conceptualize and engage with the concept and the distinction of generosity. of generosity. You know, I take on generosity as a practice. It's the way I live my life. For many of you, if you live here in New York City, you know, you travel the streets and you see all kinds of people and all kinds of states and all kinds of situations.

And oftentimes, especially as New Yorkers, we find ourselves rushing by and going where we have to go. And one of the ways that I am committed and have discovered that I can extend generosity is actually looking at people. You know, like not the cement that we're walking down or the door we're trying to enter, but actually taking a look, extending myself in a generous way to connect. Using, of course, mediating yourself so that you're aware of the appropriateness or non-appropriateness of it. I also think it's really, really important to engage with some of our brothers and sisters who are less fortunate because there's something that makes it available for another human being to be seen and witnessed.

And as people on the train or people on the streets are asking for food or for money or for whatever they might be asking for, whether or not you contribute to them in that way, there can be a major contribution that you offer to their spirit just by seeing them and witnessing who they are in the condition that they are in. So I just wanted you to start to think larger about generosity than the offering of some money or the offering of something. We experienced it not so long ago when the families of the people who were killed in Charleston, I think it was the day after they lost their loved ones,

came back through the media talking about their forgiveness for the person that had shot the people that they loved. And a lot of people had a response to that, like how can someone so quickly turn around and make that offering? And I propose to you that it's because the family members and the other church members and the people that spoke out afterwards had been engaged in the practice of generosity. That was a great gift that those people, that those families offered us, offered our culture, offered our society, much less offering to the gunman the generosity of a clear heart and mind, notwithstanding that they were going to have to go through whatever grieving and anger and that whole process in losing someone and in losing someone that way. But that was a most generous offering that they made us. And there's a lot of learning that's available for us to look at, even in our small

interactions where there is harm done. One of the Buddhist tenets of greed, aversion, and delusion, and if you're not familiar with some of these concepts, no worries. Just let the words fall on you, and you'll glean from it what you're able. But, you know, there's the understanding within Buddhist traditions, I think, across the board, regardless of what particular lineage or tradition is being practiced, that the root of most all of our suffering is the result of greed or attachment or moving towards wanting good, wanting to always be good, wanting things to always be pleasant, wanting things to always resonate as we want them. Or aversion, being angry, experiencing hate,

moving away from that which is difficult or hard or chaos. And then delusion, which is kind of not knowing what's going on, being confused, not paying attention, not seeing, not knowing, not understanding. In a real simple way, that's how we've come to understand that most all of our suffering is caused by standing in or being asleep in one of those of the three poisons. The absolute rollout or the absolute arising of generosity, I think, becomes possible as a result of engaging with practice and becoming masterful and practiced at clearing the mind of the ego delusion, of being able to see really clearly how things are and what's going on and making a wise choice

in how to engage with that or not. You may decide not to engage with whatever is in front of you. But so often we're in a reaction state in relationship to what happens to us at any given moment in our lives or are in a reaction state to historical conditions that happen to us or that we live through and maybe even intergenerationally. We may even now in this generation

be reacting to something that happened to our ancestors. It's the result of seeing through that and actually resolving it and gaining acumen with the practice that then generosity starts to naturally arise. However, I think that it can be taken on like an intention to cultivate and create generosity. I often think that it should be the fifth Brahma Vihara. So there's four Brahma Viharas, loving kindness, compassion, equanimity, and sympathetic joy. And I think generosity, if you're practicing those,

there's a natural arising and outpouring of being generous. When one feels that you don't have to contract and isolate and not engage, which is what happens when you practice metta. So I think that in this little bit of time, that's what I'm going to say, but I'm going to read you a story, and then we're going to do some meditation practice. The antelope, the woodpecker, and the turtle. And this story is from India. Once in the past, the Buddha-to-be was born as an antelope, Karungamiga. He lived in a thicket in the middle of the woods by a lake. At the top of a tree by that very same lake there lived a woodpecker, Satapato, and in the lake there lived a turtle, Kachapo. The antelope, the woodpecker, and the

turtle were friends. They lived together and they took care of each other. How did they take care of each other? Well, they told each other stories. The woodpecker's stories were short and to the point. They went like this. Da-da-da-da-da-da, da-da-da-da-da-da-da. The turtle's stories, on the other hand, were slow and ponderous. They went on and on and on until sometimes the woodpecker and the antelope fell asleep. The stories told by the antelope, on the other hand,

spoke of things he had seen in the forest, creatures living their lives, teaching their young how to be in the world. Somehow, whenever the antelope told one of his stories, the woodpecker and the turtle felt a little kinder and a little wiser. One day, a hunter entered the forest. He happened to see the hoof prints of the antelope in the soft earth by the edge of the lake where Karungamiga went to drink each night. The hunter laid a snare. It was made of leather, but it was as strong as an iron chain. Then he went away. That night, when Karungamiga came to drink,

his leg was caught in the snare. He cried out in fear. Down from the top of the tree flew Satapato, the woodpecker. Out from the water of the lake climbed Kachapo, the turtle. They looked and saw their friend, the antelope, with his hind leg trapped in the snare, climbed Kachapo, the turtle. They looked and saw their friend, the antelope, with his hind leg trapped in the snare, trembling and frightened. What can we do, said Kachapo, his wet shell gleaming in the moonlight. I know, said Satapato. You have a beak, Kachapo. Use your beak. Chew and cut this leather snare. I will fly through the woods to the hunter's lodge. I will slow the hunter and prevent him from coming at first light. Kachapo sat down and began to cut and chew the snare.

Kadati, kadati, kadati, kadati, kadati, kadati. As he chewed, Karungamiga, the antelope, murmured the turtle's name to encourage him. He said, Kachapo, Kachapo, Kachapo. Meanwhile, Satapato, the woodpecker, flew through the woods. The sound of his wings lifting and falling made a sound like the sound of his own name. Satapato, Satapato, Satapato, Satapato. He flew through the forest right to the hunter's lodge. There he alighted in a tree

and waited for any sound of the hunter preparing to set out. When light first showed in the east, he heard the hunter moving about. Inside the lodge, the hunter slung his leather pouch over one shoulder. He took his knife in one hand, then he opened the door. At that very moment, Satapato cried out, flew down from the tree, flapped his wings, and struck the hunter in the face. The hunter was amazed.

What is this black-winged bird of evil omen? He turned about, shut the door, and went back to bed. This was not a good way to start the day. The hunter said to himself, this bird of evil omen struck me in the face when I went through the front door. Now I'll go by the back door. But Satapato, waiting in the tree, thought to himself, this hunter came out by the front door. The second door he'll go by the back door. Satapato flew to the rear of the hunter's lodge. He alighted in a tree and waited. When the hunter opened the door and stepped out, Satapato flew down from the tree, flapped his wings, and struck the hunter in the face. The hunter was astonished. This bird does not want me to set out.

He turned about and shut the door. Now he waited until the sun began to climb over the treetops into the sky. Then, thinking of what he might have caught in his leather snare, he took up his knife and his pouch, opened the door, and crouching low, he went quickly along the forest trails towards the lake. Satapato flew ahead of him to warn the antelope and the turtle. His wings went up and down even more quickly than before. Satapato, satapato, satapato, satapato. He flew through the woods to the edge of the lake where Karungamiga, the antelope, was caught in the hunter's snare. The hunter is coming, the hunter is coming, warned the woodpecker. All night long, the turtle had cut and chewed the snare.

His beak was broken. There was blood at the edges of his mouth. He was weak and exhausted. But only one thin strand of the leather snare remained. The hunter is coming, warned Satapato. Karungamiga looked and saw the hunter coming with his knife. He snapped the leather snare and went running down the trail.

The woodpecker flew up into a tree and when the hunter arrived, there was no antelope in his snare. But there at the edge of the lake was a beautiful turtle with a beautiful turtle shell. He picked up Kachapo and put him in his leather pouch.

As he ran down the trail, Karungamiga looked back. He saw that his friend Kachapo had been seized. He said to himself, I will save my friend. He came back a little ways on the trail. He pretended to stumble. He made sure that the hunter could see him. The hunter did see him. This little antelope is weak, he said. I will catch him easily. He unslung the leather pouch and set it on the ground. Then he set off after the antelope.

Karunga Miga led the hunter this way and that way on the forest trails, never letting him come too close, but never letting him stray too far behind. He led him right to the other side of the lake. Then he summoned all his strength and came leaping and jumping swift as the wind, right back to where Kachapo was trapped in the leather pouch. He crouched down low and caught the pouch on his two sharp pointed horns. He lifted it up and let it fall. The pouch split open and out stepped Cachapo. Then down from the tree flew Satapato and alighted on the ground. Karungamiga spoke to the turtle and the woodpecker. My friends, he said, Kachapo, Satapato, you have done for me what ought to be done by a friend.

You have given me my life. Now, quickly, before the hunter returns, Satapato, take your young ones and fly through the woods to safety. And you, Kachapo, hide yourself in the waters of the lake where the hunter will not see you, and I will, hide yourself in the waters of the lake where the hunter will not see you, and I will run and hide in the thicket. They each went their separate ways, and when the hunter came back, he found only a broken snare and a torn pouch. He looked closely and saw the hoofprints of the antelope, drops of blood from the turtle's beak,

and one black wing feather. There on the forest floor, he read the story of their friendship. This feather, could it be from the bird that struck me in the face this very morning, he asked himself? And this snare, see how it has been cut and chewed? Could it be that turtle used his sharp beak to cut the snare and release the antelope? And these hoof prints returning, did the antelope come back to rescue the turtle? He was amazed and shaking his head in disbelief, he gathered up the torn pouch and the broken snare. He set off, disappointed and discouraged, but hoping the next time he might catch some creatures who didn't have such good friends. So the generosity of friendship and connection is really what I want to leave you with today

in terms of the speaking specifically around generosity. To cultivate the state of mind, to have that be the view that you engage with the world with, such that there's never a second thought to doing what is necessary to offer hope and support and love to our fellow human beings, even when people are engaged in behavior and actions that are very harmful and hurtful, which may mean that you take a different approach in choosing what to do about it, but to still hold, be generous with your heart and your mind. You never know what it is that will heal somebody.

that will heal somebody. So now we'll take a bit of time to do a bit of meditation. For those of you who are meditators, then I invite you to bring beginner's mind here and just be with this as if never before, because you have never before been here in this moment. And for those of you who are new to meditation, I'm going to guide it. So basically, I just need to follow the instruction that I'm giving. And for those of you who know how to meditate, if the instruction feels intrusive or you prefer to disengage with

it, then do your thing, sitting there in the seat. So what I invite you to do is to sit comfortably in your seat, uncrossing your arms and your legs. You can have anything on your lap, putting it down next to you. And if you're comfortable, closing your eyes. And if that's not comfortable for you, just finding a place, a couple of feet in front of you to softly and gently rest your gaze. Just checking in, how is that body there in the seat now? Being supported by the chair back, the feet being supported by the floor.

And before actually moving in, just looking and observing, how are things now? And in this form of meditation, which is insight or Vipassana meditation, although there are many ways to do this practice, today we're going to use the breath as an anchor, as the place to come home, as the place to return to. home as the place to control it.

Not trying to make it do anything. But really just watching and observing. It It may be helpful to find a point of attention, whether it be the rise and fall of the abdomen, perhaps the rise and fall of the chest and although it may be a little more subtle even that point at the beginning at the edge of the nose. And just really holding the body in a relaxed manner. With the spine straight but not rigid. So that there's some ease there. One of the reasons we engage with the breath is that it is always with us no matter where we are. And when paying attention, it is a direct pathway to finding home. For for disengaging from the stories that our minds create, the judgments, the fears, the anxieties,

and even the joys, the happiness, the happiness all just varying states of being embodied no worries if the mind wanders, the mind is designed to create, to seek out entertainment. The opportunity here is that when you become aware that the mind has wandered to bring your attention back to the breath, that is what's meant by it being an anchor. Like a ship's anchor that holds it in place. This repeated recognizing that the mind is engaged and bringing it back to the breath over time with practice is how we actually begin to cultivate a state of mindfulness. Being defined as being present here and now. Not getting caught up in the machinations and goings on of thought, feeling, emotion, pain, discomfort. All and much of that will come.

And let it just pass by like clouds in the sky or leaves on a stream. If you find that there is a lack of energy, or that there's an inclination towards sleepiness, it can help to sit up straighter. It can help to open your eyes for a brief time, and then closing them again. And if it's really a struggle to stay awake and be present, you can even stand up. That raises the energy as well. The most difficult part of cultivating mindness and bringing attention back to the breath is recognizing and remembering to do it.

We are so conditioned to be externally oriented from the multitude of stimulation that we engage with from moment to moment in our days, as well as the internal stimulation that comes from the stories, the worry, the judging of our minds. No matter how it is for you now, remembering to bring forward compassion for yourself, and acknowledging the generosity that you have extended towards yourself and having yourself be here this afternoon. Creating some silence so that you are able to observe your mind and what it's doing. How is the breath now? Deep or shallow? Slow or fast. Bringing the attention to bear, to become familiar with this breath that breathes you,

that you have to do nothing to or for. It just happens, and it's the thing that keeps us here embodied. Thank you. If you are experiencing some sleep or tired or low energy, a lot of times that's because we so rarely stop except to sleep. And so the body's conditioned to shut down when we stop. And so the body's conditioned to shut down when we stop. But as you practice, that becomes less and less. There is a huge aspect of this practice that's about learning how to live with what we perceive as adversity and still feel well whole and healthy

this simple engagement with the anchor of the breath, always available, no matter where you are, allows you at any second, at any moment, at any time, to disengage from the busyness or the chaos or the challenges, and find a moment of rest and peace and ease. Just in case your mind is in one of those moments of wondering, the object of meditation is not to stop thinking. Like the lungs breathe and the heart beats, the mind thinks. It is, however, a practice to assist and support you in creating that pause, that space between thought, feeling, emotion, and action, such that you can see things clearly, and then bring forward wisdom to inform action or non-action. Remembering to bring the attention back to the breath. to be aware that thinking is going on or feeling is happening or emotions are there

or that pain or discomfort is present, but having the ability not to engage with that. I'm going to make a If only to remember the simplicity, the clarity, the ease, the comfort, back to the breath when you notice that the mind has wandered. Being assured and knowing that this breath is always with you. From finding ease, clarity, peace, wisdom, and freedom. I'm going to make a That concludes this week's practice. If you'd like to attend in person, please check out our website, rubinmuseum.org slash meditation to learn more. Sessions are free to Rubin Museum members, just one of the many benefits of membership.

Thank you for listening. Have a mindful day.