June 2008 Audio Meditation

In a recent interview with Bryan Stevenson with Krista Tippett on her On Being program, I found myself resonating with a new and deepened experience and understanding of hope. During the interview, Bryan said something along the lines of “without hope there can only be injustice.” It had to do with what happens to people when they lose hope. They give up, we give up if we don’t have hope that things can be different.

Here’s the link to the podcast, in case you’d like to hear it:https://podcasts.google.com/feed/aHR0cHM6Ly9mZWVkcy5zaW1wbGVjYXN0LmNvbS9BdUF4SF9CZg/episode/NzRlNzI4NGEtNDgyNC00MGI0LWFhMjgtODRjNTE3MDFkYTJl?hl=en&ved=2ahUKEwj7kIzZwrntAhXqpVkKHUJiAwcQjrkEegQIBRAI&ep=6

I remember being in a class a long time ago where someone taught that hope implies that we don’t have what we need. Now that I have returned to an early interest in quantum physics and what the dynamics of quantum realities reveal, I have a different take on hope. I now relate to hope as a dynamic statement of intention orienting me to possibilities that contain positive outcomes I can’t currently imagine. They key is that my relationship to hope resonates with intentions focused on healing, on opening the hearts of all humans, and more. I no longer feel that hope implies lack. For me, now, it implies focused attention on potential healing outcomes.

The other day, two things happened in rapid succession that got me to thinking about how we interact with each other in our everyday world. Going downstairs in an elevator in my apartment building one morning, two people got on at different floors as the elevator went down to the lobby and both of them, as soon as they were in the elevator, locked their attention onto their phones. No “good morning” or “how are you”…just immediately heads down writing texts. Then, when I was out on the street, I noticed that most people were so engrossed in their phones that some people were nearly bumping into others. That same morning, while walking across the park, I also noticed the people who were looking at their phones rather than the trees, dogs, or other people.

All this got me to thinking about how we have been programmed in recent years not to take time to notice or interact with one another in ways that were a matter of course in the years I was growing into adulthood. Watching people almost bump into each other while walking along, and being present to absolute silence in the elevator (which doesn’t happen all the time, for sure), touched into a sense of a different level of disconnection from one another than I am used to observing and/or experiencing. This sense of disconnection seems to me to also show up in Facebook posts, and I’m sure also in other places, where people’s comments about public figures or one another are stunningly disrespectful. 

As I have continued to notice people locking in on their phones in situations where, in prior years, there might have been a bit of polite conversation, I got to wondering what would happen if I decided to make a concerted effort not only to be cordial to people along the way, but also to emphasize—in my thoughts as well as my actions—an active attitude of respect. One of the results of this practice is that I just about always say hello to people on the elevator, unless they are already engrossed in their phones. These are brief encounters, but I feel better when I’ve acknowledged someone who’s sharing the elevator ride with me. It’s not that I press for conversation. Instead, it’s just an acknowledgment that there are more than just myself sharing the same space.

During a recent attunement, I experienced myself orienting to my usual resource, steadiness, and I suddenly found myself “being a mountain.” My felt-sense experience was of the strength and steadiness of a large mountain and, what added to the experience, was the felt-sense of literally being part of the body of the earth. I could feel how I, as the mountain, had an unbroken connection with the entire mantle of the planet, that I arose from the depths of the earth, and that it was impossible to fall over or become disconnected from the stability of the earth itself.

As a regular practice, I invite myself and just about everyone with whom I connect professionally in the course of any given week to take a moment to feel into the steadiness that is an inherent part of their embodied, core presence. I remind people that the experience of our ever-present steadiness may fall into the background of our awareness and be momentarily unavailable, but it represents a part of us that cannot be disturbed. It’s an inescapable aspect of our wholeness and resides within our core presence.