What is happiness? I’ve been contemplating this for weeks. It seems the notion of happiness can have so many meanings, across paradigms as well as within me. Patanjali spends a great deal of time talking about the nature of “bliss”, the ultimate happiness. But for him it is lifetimes of work to realize the stillness of being associated with it. Buddhism is similar. Happiness is possible only in the cessation of cravings or desire. And yet for other systems, desire is central to moving our human organism toward meeting our needs. For me, the pursuit of happiness exists on both levels. I know that I have a propensity toward.
The following is by Guest Contributor Brian Leaf, M.A. on the Keys to Happiness – the author of Misadventures of a Garden State Yogi draws upon twenty-one years of intensive study, practice, and teaching of yoga, meditation, and holistic health. Visit him online at http://www.Misadventures-of-a-Yogi.com. During my first two years studying at Georgetown University, I realized how deeply stressed I was, and that though I knew how to get As, I knew little about how to be comfortable, relaxed, and happy. I wanted desperately to feel more at ease. I wanted to feel more loving and more free-spirited. So I started doing experiments to learn how to live. pandora earrings,pandora.
A beautiful reflection on one women’s experience of nature penetrating her blocked body, heart and mind by Guest Contributor Shelly Simpson of 365 Gratitude. This evening I was heading home about 6 o’clock still feeling the carry over of being tired, stressed, stuck, trapped inside my mental emotional body As I drove out of town I could see a storm rushing up on me from behind I began to have the feeling of something chasing me down I turned onto a gravel road got out of my car and walked a ways with the storm approaching fast from the west And then I rooted my feet.
Today my daughter and I were home sick with the flu. As I sit down to write this post on the nature of spiritual living I can see – in living color – the collision between human and divine. How do I muster the fortitude to talk about the sublime amidst the drudgery of snotty noses and piles of dirty laundry? It’s not easy, sometimes, for me to see daily life through a spiritual lens. It’s work. Despite the contrary claims of so many new age gurus, knowing Spirit amidst the mundane requires pause, practice and an ongoing desire to tend to my suffering in a way that is.
One of the central themes of the Soul of Christianity workshop I recently attended was that of grace. To me, grace is those moments in life when greater understanding unfolds and I am gifted with a sense of wholeness. Grace is an ever present gift that flows naturally into our openings – those times when our ego cannot fathom the bigness of the Mystery and it breaks down – allowing for a little pocket of the Mystery to be known. Grace waits for us to open to it, I think, and we often must be shocked into knowing it by instances that disrupt the ego and call us into such presence that.
In what’s becoming an annual trip to the Kananaskis region of the Alberta Rockies I finally have a moment to reflect on an experience I had last weekend at a workshop entitled “The Soul of Christianity”. The heavy rain outside our little trailer creates the impossibility of much activity, my attention turns inward, and I see that there is much to say. Lead by Atum O’Kane, a spiritual teacher and Jungian Analyst from Seattle, I was drawn to participate by a trusted friend who assured me that the nature of this retreat would be one of depth, meaning and inner work. She was right. And although we touched on many.
One year ago I wrote a blog called “The River Runs Through Me”. It was inspired by a small river located in a campground nestled amongst the Rocky mountains of Alberta. Last year I was struck by the way that the river seemed to cleanse my soul, as if literally running through my cells, washing away the silt of stress and fatigue, leaving me feel fresh and alive. I sit here, next to an unstoked fire, in the same campground and am amused and amazed by a different experience this year. I am happy to reconnect to the lovely little river that whispered renewal into my bones last year, but this year I am astounded by the mountains themselves. .
She’s some kind of Waxwing I think – the angel that sings to me every day. I like to imagine that she’s singing for me of course knowing full well that her song belongs to no one. Her sweet melody seems to appear at the most critical moment – I’m grumbling about homework or housework, I’m sad about the rain or feeling isolated at home with a bored toddler. Her songs shock me into presence, into a new cadence that renews the moment. I am astounded by her ability to shift my outlook, I’m astounded, equally, by the fact that I let her. This is an angelic moment: the interface between an outside force and.
In a brief stolen moment while my daughter was at gramma’s I meandered through a local used bookstore looking for treasures. And what a treasure I did find! Amidst a stew of self-help books situated haphazardly on a giant bookshelf I found a book of poetry that went far beyond self-help and pierced straight into the heart of my Heart. It is called The Breathing Field by a woman named Wyatt Townley who is a yoga teacher and poet in the U.S.. And, by the looks of it, soon going to be yet another amazing soul who’s immense current will inspire my own life. If you’re out there Wyatt and ever read this, thank you from the bottom of.