Showing posts with label community. Show all posts
Showing posts with label community. Show all posts

Tuesday, June 9, 2015

Give Until it Feels Good


  

If you’re the type who likes to give, I don’t have to tell you the benefits that come from that.

Particularly if you have a skill or a gift that benefits the community in some way, everyone is missing out until you share it.

At the ashram it’s fun to see people’s talents put to good use, from the electrical engineer who plays and teaches tabla, to the mortgage manager who makes the best homemade salsa (which she sells, then donates to Nepal relief).


There are some wonderful cooks who alternate providing dishes for the Sunday afternoon meal after satsang; there are naturopathic practitioners who can cure your neck and back pain on the spot using pressure points; even harmonium lessons are available upon request.

And where would any community be without computer experts? We have several. One person makes patterns for dresses and saris. Another is particularly handy overall, rooting out mechanical and other problems with appliances. 

Obviously there are excellent yoga and meditation instructors, as well as pranayama (breathing techniques for good health). There’s that person who writes a blog that celebrates this community… 

And there are many others who give in ways big and small that no one knows about. They don’t need thanks, but I acknowledge them here anyway.

Givers know that the reward is instantaneous if you’re doing it out of love. “If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.” (1 Corinthians 13:3)


I was recently introduced to “seva,” a Sanskrit word that means “selfless service” or work performed without any thought of reward or repayment. In ancient India seva was believed to help one's spiritual growth and at the same time contribute to the improvement of a community.

Sounds perfect.

Wednesday, June 3, 2015

Live and Love


My mother-in-law is in hospice care.

She didn't reach this stage suddenly. We're sad, but relatively prepared (my children, less so). She's hasn't remembered very much for some time, and now she simply cannot stay awake for visitors, so we mostly just sit with her in silence while she sleeps.

I feel sad for my family and myself, of course.

And I can't help but contemplate my own mortality. 


Especially when friends around you are experiencing their own pain over a sick loved one.

I have a dear friend who has a sister in ICU. She is very, very fragile.

I wrote about a couple I know who lost a grandchild recently.


We don't have all the answers. Sometimes all we can do is just be with it, which is made easier with the love and support of our family, caring friends in our community, and whatever faith we have.

None of this new to humanity, of course, but it's new when it happens to us. At least one message is always the same and never gets old: life is fragile, so live today, in the present. Live now, because tomorrow may not come.

Live, and love.


Tuesday, April 21, 2015

Putting the U in Community


One of the things I like best about our community at the Ashram is that people feel free to express whatever’s on their mind, and frequently what’s in their hearts.

You can get small talk anywhere. 

In many offices or social circles, it’s not customary to share about things that matter deeply to you, such as your concern over a sick relative, or perhaps your own ailment, or something that’s troubling you. 

When there's business to be done in a work environment, many people's hearts close up.

But in a truly supportive community, you'd never hear, "I'd complain, but who'd care?" They do care - that's the difference.

Or if you want to share some deep life lesson you just learned, or respond to someone’s query with your own extensive knowledge on the subject, you can do that in a nurturing community. In fact, your contribution is expected.

That's another thing a great community does - it gives back in the form of giving you a purpose, particularly if it has charitable endeavors. It reminds us that we all have something to give, and how good it feels to give it. You gain in the giving.

And when you have good news to share? It will be truly celebrated. Not with jealousy, but true appreciation.

I googled “what makes a good community” and found a great article where six community workers express their views on this topic, and it's too good not to share: What Makes a Good Community? They’re from Northern Ireland, which demonstrates the principles for a good community are universal – I recommend giving it a glance.

I learned that you can't have community without open hearts. Who wouldn't want to hang out in a place like that?

Friday, April 17, 2015

My Goal Is To Stop You From Reading This Blog*




First, here are the reasons I write this blog:
  1. To express the amazing experiences I’ve had since starting yoga and meditation, not caring if even one person reads it (although I’d prefer a few readers...)
  2. To process the profound changes in my life as a result of the practice
  3. To help others find or create a similar type of community
  4. To inspire others to start their own blog about their community

In other words, my goal is to have lots of people read this blog… until they don’t have the time because they’re too busy writing their own spiritual community newsletter/blog, or are too busy contributing to that community.

So if you do it right, your life will be too busy to read this blog!

And I’m not talking about the kind of busy that keeps you running like a hamster in a wheel.


I’m talking about the kind that fulfills you, feeds your soul, and maybe even makes the world a better place.

It’s the kind of busy the comes when you don’t want anything for yourself – which is a real gift to realize – and you now have the time and space to give to others who haven’t gotten that gift.**


For instance, the baijis at my Ashram have devoted their lives to service and are already very busy, and when we raise all the funds to build a bigger studio to allow more students, they would like me to lead some yoga classes so they’ll have more time for their ministering duties. There are also fundraising duties for the two old-age homes (the baiji’s sisters run those) and an orphanage in Nepal (all of which I plan to visit in the next year – busy-busy). There is also the wonderful Sunday afternoon satsang service followed by a delicious vegetarian meal.***


There are also tabla lessons, harmonium lessons, and vegetarian cooking lessons when they let me peek into the kitchen on Sunday afternoons. At our Ashram there’s even a Homeopathic specialist with years of study in natural healing you can occupy yourself with.

So I dedicate this post to the givers out there who are taking steps to make the most of their day. You might as well: it could be your last.


*Except for those at my Ashram. You better keep reading – I might mention you.
**Another name for that gift is “the present.”
***On that day I’m "busy" right through to dessert.

Wednesday, April 15, 2015

First, Bare Your Feet


“There’s something different about you,” I said to a fellow Ashram yoga devotee as we drove to a seminar in Los Angeles.

“What?” she wondered.

“You’re wearing shoes. I hardly recognize you.”

The joke wasn’t far from the truth simply because we're used to seeing each other with bare feet. We remove our shoes before entering the Ashram, as with most yoga studios. And because there is a good spirit of community inside those walls, where acquaintances can become good friends and maybe even family, you get used to seeing them a certain way.


Of course it’s practical to be barefoot preceding yoga or meditation, but it’s also cleaner, humbler, and steeped in tradition across many cultures. Science claims health benefits to going barefoot, including increased blood circulation and pressure point massage. 

It also seems to create an air of informal familiarity. Trust. And dare I say it, coziness? 

In fact, could you imagine Congress debating bills in their bare feet, leaving their wingtips at the chamber door? Would more humility, wisdom and compassion infuse their debates? 

If so, I’d probably end up saying, “Congressman, there’s something very different about you.”