I don’t know if ho’oponopono—similar to the Buddhist practice of tonglen, or loving-kindness—will resonate with you or not. But since the age of 35 my heart’s desire has been to learn how to love, and this practice feels like an answer to prayer.
If we could understand the inherent potential available to us we might learn how to systematically tap into it, which would vastly improve every area of our lives, from communication and self-knowledge, to our interaction with our material world.
I’d been thinking for months about what I wanted to do with my grandchildren during this summer’s visit to our cabin in the Smokey Mountains. One thought was to introduce them to meditation, so in a blog post last March I asked readers for suggestions.
Before fully awakening this morning I dozed off and on in dreams about a new post. But I can’t remember a word of it now. Plus, my mind is still absorbed in the book I was reading on Kindle (The Bet, by Vivienne Tuffnell) as I walked. What I really want to do is keep reading.
All my books but the first, which was an outgrowth of my dissertation, are essentially memoirs, and dreamwork has been invaluable to me in this endeavor. Writing has always been a deeply satisfying means of expression for me, and when it’s combined with working on my dreams it’s my fundamental “practice” that brings enormous meaning to my life and helps me tie up all the disconnected threads of my personal history.
A few days ago my friend Elizabeth Cohen led a day of meditation for a dozen people at our mountain cabin. Knowing we would spend time outdoors, I wondered what I would learn about my own nature from meditating on Mother Nature. My question was based on many synchronistic experiences which have taught me that these two natures are intimately connected.
As I write this I’m preparing to host a day of meditation for a dozen people at our cabin in the mountains. Unless it rains, some of that time will be spent outdoors. At an altitude of about 3,300 feet, we’re situated in an enchanted womb of a valley encircled by densely wooded mountains, most of which are named after animals or natural formations resembling familiar shapes.