Heron and reflection – wading by the swim area

First, a thank you to those who emailed their thoughts and experiences related to our discussions here. It’s much appreciated. I love hearing how this material is supporting your practice or bringing up new questions. Some is shared below.

I’m back to reflections today. When I look at things, do I see the source clearly or am I just looking at reflections?

Non-dual: are mundane-world reality and refection the same? The reflection can only mirror the object, but we cannot make changes in the reflection, but only in the original object, which will then change the reflection. When I get caught in a cycle of anger, frustration, grief or similar experience, am I experiencing the direct object, or only the reflection? As I look at that, I see how i get caught in the reflections, and am led to ask, what pulls me away from the immediate and substantial mundane reality?

One of you wrote in your email: “Reflecting on where I get hooked, one place is often around self-judgement, judging the places where the heart is closed or fearful. Judging thoughts or feelings that are not fully loving.”

Aaron keeps reminding us, we’re here to deepen compassion, not to get something perfect! Ive been looking at grief with this in mind, the past weeks.

And: “There is fear and separation here, from a distortion of love, an aspiration to live more fully from love, while fully knowing that I’m still very much human.”

Someone wrote: “I love that the angel who fell, actually fell out of a distortion of love, not the intention to do harm, this is so relatable and brings such tenderness and compassion and humility.”

Trying to change the reflection, rather than deeply seeing into the original, allows me to avoid the pain of the original, the burning of grief; the helpless feelings of inability to change things on the mundane level; the sharpness of anger. When I bring compassion to all of this, for myself and all sentient beings, I’m back to my purpose for the incarnation: not to get it perfect but to live it with love. With that spacious love, I can best attend the present reality.

One of Aaron’s earliest words of guidance to me at a time when i was pushing myself and with self-condemnation, was: “Do it with love or not at all.” Almost 40 years later, that still deeply resonates.

I see how I’ve been caught in the grief, the thoughts of having to put Hal in a nursing home for financial reasons, and live apart from him after 60 years of life together…, the thought of selling our home of 55 years to get the money for the nursing home…, my own fears for my future, and how the hardening of anger, grief and self-judgment about these, have kept me from being open to imagine new possibilities. I was looking only at reflections! Instead of seeing only a reflection of grief, (which helps keep it at a distance) I have to compassionately allow the direct experience of grief. The idea of “how we now must live” was a limited reality to protect me from the depth of fear and anger. When the heart is grounded in compassion for true human suffering for myself and all beings, it is more open to imagining and co-creating new solutions.

It takes much love, courage, and deep practice to go penetrate the pain of our human condition. Until I do that, how can I find the love? Compassion allows us to acknowledge the terror of touching such painful places and trusting we can move ahead.

Three nights ago, at bedtime, my beloved almost 11 year old collie, Banner, (my hearing – dog) suddenly could not stand up. We have a routine of many years; I shut off the tv or close my book, say ”bed time” and we both get up quickly and head to the bedroom. He tried to stand; his 4 paws were sliding to the sides on the hardwood floor, with no traction, and he couldn’t get them under him. He was terrified. I woke up Hal’s caregiver who lives downstairs and he brought up the old living room rug that we’d stored in the basement for wheelchair/ walker safety, put it down and lifted him on top of it and Banner rested there for 15 minutes while I just patted him and spoke to him. Then I got up and he did too. Just stood up! Our human minds return to “I can’t” and fear. His mind and body just responded by standing to follow me to the bedroom. The next day, he was happily playing with our granddaughter, with no sign of weakness. Fear and its stories really do block us humans from a deeper reality.