Meditation and Motherhood

Pip and Mom, a Mountain Top Meditation.

Reatreat with Ajhan Sona of Birken forest Monastery, BC.

Ajahn Sona, Abbot--Birken Forest Monastery

I spent Friday evening and Saturday morning at a Buddhist meditation retreat in Kelowna. The Abbot of Birken Forest Monastery, Ajan Sona, was the monastic leading the retreat.

 I found Ajahn Sona's wisdom on dealing with human emotions to be the most interesting. His simple, straight forward advice for living with the basic ups and downs of daily emotions and interactions was helpful. I would have liked to listen to him speak much longer about this.

The thing about monastics is that although they are often deep on the path towards enlightenment, they are human. So, when they respond the audience's questions with (seemingly) weak answers to Buddhist questions or tell stories that reveal the monk to be insecure about their own social status, it takes me a little by surprise. However, I like to take from each monastic, the best of what they have to offer. Monastics are human with human failings just like the rest of us lay peoples. But each and every monastic has substantial wisdom in  at least one area--and this is the area I really pay attention to. Although, I admit, when I recognize personal insecurity in a monk, it makes me take stalk of my own insecurities. If I were ever to become ordained, I too would carry some personal baggage with me.
I use this same philosophy when I study The Buddha's teachings: He was human, if some of his teachings seem limited, I acknowledge his humanness and the culture/society in which he was living in.

Saturday morning's retreat was sitting and walking meditation with a break for lunch. I had planned on staying for the entire day of meditating but at lunch the compulsion to be with my kids was too strong. I needed to go home. My life is very busy, like almost all Western lives. All week long it is work and activities. I hardly have any time to just be home with my family. Many of us are rushing around to catch a dance lesson/soccer practice/music lesson/meetings etc. When the weekend arrives, guess what? More soccer/meetings/appointments. I am away next weekend and then another weekend shortly after and every day/evening some scheduled appointment.

I am not proud of this rushing around through life. I am trying to change it--trying to find a simple balance but it is almost impossible with 3 children each wanting to do several extra-curricular activities for fun (and I want them to have these opportunities to enjoy sports and music). Also, my life is in the process of big growth and change; my career was on pause for a decade to devote to raising my babes and now--time to catch up! No rest for the wicked and weary.
Thus, I felt (due to the fact I miss spending serious leisure time with my babes) that a morning meditation was enough on this day. I love Buddhism practice but I love being a mom more. My children trump everything and anything. I believe this strengthens my Buddhist practice--to know and practice true loving kindness and compassion for myself and my children.

So I get home and find Tabs rushing out the door for a soccer game (with her dad) and my other two girls busy playing (hanging Mist would say) with the neighbor girls.
But at least I was home while they played and there to make sure my soccer star took her vitamins supplements before her game.

Singing Sands on Ephemeral Shores

The Westwind sand is so fine, it sings beneath one's feet with each step. The following photographs were taken the day we created sand drawings on the beach. I felt the need to choose the beach drawing activity over the other offered activities--as though something was calling me to the ocean's edge. It was an exhilarating experience. I carved through the sand against the Tide's yearning to erase the drawing before it's completion. A great work out for my upper body as I pressed the rake handle deep into the beach and pulled. Watching the tide erase the art on completion emphasized the impermanence of life.

I drew a sea serpent. I did not have a wide-angle lens thus the picture below does not do it justice. My niece Nem, created the octopus with a friend (I took all the pics with my own camera except this one--I used Duncan's camera and wide angle lens for the octopus). I barely had time to drag the ladder to each creation and take a photo before the tide ate away at each creation.

 During this time other members of my family chose different activities. Miranda went on a steep, cliff-edged hike (I was envious on her return but realized Providence had intervened as some of the hike was spent on their bellies creeping towards the cliff's edge and I would have frozen up in fear), Tabs and Mist made salt from the sea. Tabs will show me how when we go to Hawaii next--I can bring home Hawaiian sea salt! We have a small stash of Westwind salt. We had concerns crossing the border with our little bags of white powder, but all was well. When you tell the border guards you were attending a Buddhist meditation retreat--they are rather friendly. In fact, my border crossing this trip was the easiest and friendliest I've encountered to date.

On Our Way From Misery To Happiness

The photo essay below depicts our initial arrival at Westwind, Oregon, USA. I attended a Buddhist mindfulness retreat along with my two eldest daughters, sister and niece. The Buddhism is in Thich Nhat Hanh Zen tradition.
We drove down from Canada, spent one night in Portland and the next day arrived on the coast of Oregon. I didn't take any pictures of our night in Portland but Mist (below) my sister and I took the Max train down town for the evening and dined at Rock Bottom Brewery and Restaurant. It was a whirlwind, fun night in Portland. Mist got to try Rock Bottom's homemade rootbeer. It was surreal for me as I'd dined at that exact restaurant in Portland only 8 months earlier. The 14 hour road trip took us through the very beautiful Washington and Oregon States. We arrived, slightly weary but excited travelers, ready to leave our miseries behind...

Mist on the Salmon River, Oregon-- awaiting the ferry crossing.

Tabs--thrilled to have arrived after a 14 hour road trip.

Biologists at play on the Salmon River shore.

Crossing the Salmon River to Westwind.

My niece and I on board the ferry.

Safely on shore. The sand is crunchy on top and soft underneath.

We're on our way---following Duncan's 85 year old mom Fern to the camp site. She is an  inspirational woman full of eloquence, vitality and warmth.

Mistaya, ready to explore the biosphere.

Caught in a sandstorm of emotion (sorry ABBA-it just seemed appropriate).

Duncan Berry, one of the retreat's hosts, explaining the history of the land.

We have arrived in happiness: Westwind--the dining halls.

The steep narrow path to our cabin was the only escape route for the camp.

Toilet on cliff's edge--unbelievable ocean view when sitting in front of this small building, quite challenging finding one's way in the dark.

Our mountain-top sanctuary: Tyee Cabin