Dharma Glimpse by Paramita

The first thirty seconds of Zazen meditation are where we get to sit WITH our problems. These are the words (paraphrased) of Shozan Jack Haubner, a reputable Buddhist teacher whose guidance I follow on various internet platforms. No judgement, no internal commentary, just being alongside whatever arises in a loving, compassionate space.

As I sat in meditation this morning, right on cue, and in a fashion that I am very accustomed to, a torrent of worries and frustrations sprung up from the depths of my busy mind. Some of the usual trivialities that I would normally acknowledge mentally, and then let go, back into the river of idle thought, and some, more persistent and immanent naggings, demanding immediate resolution.

Overwhelm began to appear and brought doubt along with it. Is it really worth me even attempting to sit for 15-20 minutes, as I normally might? Life and death family issues, deep relationship dilemmas, money, work, health…This is surely too much material – I can’t possibly call this a meditation, it’s more of a worry fest!

And, as per the instructions that I have been on the receiving end of for 15 years now, I returned to my breath, as the central anchor, the intimate mediator. A Krishamurti quote popped up amid the receding noise; “there are no problems apart from the mind.” Yes! Simple words resonating profound truth and unlocking some philosophical faculty that embraces the turbulent contents of my fear.

These things, that I choose to perceive and label as troubles, actually exist independently of my prejudices. And yes, they hold a particular weight that I experience as discomfort, but ultimately it is my perspective on them that gives them the power to disturb me. No problems except the mind. But the mind is a big one eh!! Or can be!?

I managed to sit for about 15 minutes, veering in and out of the chaotic ramblings, and being held in the spacious energy that the breath seems to offer. A beautiful, gentle chant facilitates the transition from stillness and silence back into the realities of living life! They don’t have to be problems, right? We’ll see how it goes.


Namo Amida Bu!

Dharma Glimpse by Khemashalini

I’ve written previously of the annual walking retreat or Yatra that I’ve not long returned from. A yatra means to walk or pilgrimage to a holy place/s. The walking is in silence and not usually a rush to get there so the journey is as important as the destination. I had lots of inspiration for Dharma Glimpses during this week and I’m kind of annoyed with myself as I didn’t write enough down and as the weeks pass the memories fade a little.

One very memorable day was the one when we walked up Cader Idris- all 893 metres. We had been warned that a storm may hit at midday so we left early in an attempt to at least be at the summit before it arrived. I think we were probably 50 metres from the summit when the mist dropped and the wind and rain started. Thankfully no snow as forecast. I look back at a photo I took at this point and Caroline is standing there, her poncho blowing around her with no beautiful view, just looking out into the mysterious mist. This was like an earlier jaunt up Helvelyn in the Lake district when I too was deprived of the supposedly stunning view due to cloud. I suppose I’ll have to climb again if I am to see the view. Several days later I was on a website where people post about their mountain climbing activities, top tips, photos etc. and I was gutted to see that literally 2 days later those that climbed the mountain were gifted that stunning view as a reward. Timing is everything!!

Having made it to the summit w ate our lunch all crowded together in the little stone hut. Not the nicest of shelters but we were all very grateful on this occasion. A small group poked their head in half way through lunch to be greeted by 30+ hungry and rather damp Buddhists all crammed in- standing room only.
On our decent the wind was over 60 MPH (I was told at a later time), it was still raining, so I was wearing my trustee poncho to try and save my coat a little. At one point the wind got underneath this and took me off my feet. I was holding on to everything tightly whilst trying to navigate the steep rocky and slippy pathway. Caroline lost her hat, I watched it fly off into the mist, then a back pack cover. I was glad I’d tied mine on tightly. I removed my poncho to try and gain some balance and stop the wind from buffering me from side to side, I’d have to get wet. Not 2 minutes later, on a rather exposed outcrop of rocks, I felt the wind pick me up again and then a flash of luminous yellow shot past as my new backpack cover disappeared over the edge into the mist. Oh no☹ I was so annoyed with myself, had I not tied in on properly. Now everything inside my rucksack was going to get wet. I started to worry about what I’d got in my bag and what might get damaged. I thought of nothing else for about 30 minutes as we descended. I really do hate losing things – even in extreme weather conditions. How much was it going to cost to replace? I wondered where all the items that had blown off today, and other days would be blown too. Where would their final resting place be? I’d be very happy if I found an osprey back pack cover and Caroline’s lovely hat. Had someone set up an ebay account selling all the lost items claimed by the mountain? We had a little laugh about it later on once we broke our silence. I realised that I had to let go of my attachment to this belonging, it was preventing me from being in the present. I’d been preoccupied in these thoughts rather than being fully immersed in this unique experience. I needed to let go of my annoyance of the wind. After all it was my fault it blew off, I can’t have tied it on tightly enough and wind is wind. The fundamental buddhist teaching of impermanence relays that we will not find sustained happiness through clinging – only suffering. Namo Amida Bu.

Dharma Glimpse by Khemashalini 

I’ve recently returned from a short break away for my birthday where I visited family in Gozo which is a small island next to Malta. My dad lived there for many years until his death nearly 8 years ago so it’s like a second home and I soon settle into life once I land. I haven’t visited since 2019 although have always said I couldn’t live there permanently. The island is very small and I’d probably spend all my time feeding and rescuing their many stray cats. I;m not sure as a Buddhist if there is even a Buddhist community of the island. The main religion is Roman Catholicism with every small village having their own church, 359 churches in total – (313 in Malta and 46 in Gozo) so nearly one for each day of the week.

I spent 4 nights here this time, and my holiday was sadly soon over. Id managed to catch a cold virus on the flight over so on the day we were travelling home, I didn’t feel that well. We had non priority seats and only travelled with a rucksack which I’d carefully measured and packed to make sure it fitted the airlines measurements. Let’s not rush I said. It doesn’t matter if we are last on the plane as we don’t have any luggage to go in the overhead compartments. I just need to take it slow. Normally there is a pressure to get on the plane and find space in the overhead lockers for luggage.

So my friend Jo and I sat quietly and watched everyone else queuing, got up when called – there was a relaxed spaciousness that I’d not experienced before. Spaciousness feels like having more space in your mind. The experience of gaining spaciousness is the experience of increasingly feeling that you can choose how to interpret events and choose how to respond to emotional energy, rather than being a slave to habitual patterns.

We boarded the last bus to the plane and got off when it stopped and walked over to the plane. I must have been a bit distracted with my streaming nose and pounding headache but to my absolute surprise I was the first person to board a very empty plane. So how did that happen? I’d let go of the habitual pattern, the urgency to board which I usually have and just relaxed into the process. No forcing things, no rush, no stress so perhaps I should try this relaxed approach more often. I was definitely being cared for that day. I sat back in my seat and had a very uneventful flight home.

Namo Amida Bu.

A Dharma Glimpse by Paramita

This week I was given an opportunity to pause. My regular schedule gave way to a cascade of conditions which meant that I couldn’t fulfil some of my usual duties. And, the flow of my ongoing therapy sessions came to a grinding halt, as my Internal Famìly Parts decided that they needed to build up some more trust before they allowed any more unburdening healing to happen. Which I have learned to take as being an indispensable function of the overall process, but which still left me with a sense of dissatisfaction because I didn’t feel like I was striding forward in the way that I have come to associate with success. In other words – I had to stop! 

This, along with some other unavoidable factors, meant that a space opened up for me, which I quickly proceeded to fill with worry and fear about what I should be doing, what others might think of my perceived failure and what I could do to compensate.

At this point, I managed to catch myself in the process and remembered a promise that I had made to my tired parts in therapy, that I would take some more time out than usual and do something nice for myself. As it happened, a friend in the community was going for a long walk and so I joined them and spent some quality time in nature, absorbing the energy of the land and connecting with the nourishing sights and sounds of the Malvern Hills.

I recognised this as progress of sorts. At one time I might not have felt the potential for healing and reflection in the situation. I may have just slogged onwards relentlessly and then paid a higher price somewhere down the line.

Unboundaried and compulsive perseverance is written into our social contracts in small print. It serves the system of haves and have nots, and the agendas of the controlling elite. In some ways we are expected to keep going no matter what, to keep up with the pace of life, even if it’s obviously detrimental to our health and wellbeing and the best interests of others as well. I feel this as a sort of collective defense against our accumulated wounding; if we just don’t stop we won’t have to face the pain.

But pain is not the only thing that arises in these fertile spaces. Just the act of relaxing the grip of our white knuckled fingers on the steering wheel can bring great relief, peace and spiritual perspective.

My day off became 2 days off and I now feel refreshed and revitalised. Once again I have been shown that I do not always know what is best for me. That my human strategies have weak points and blind spots, and that there is another power operating in my life, that shows me a different way, if I can just keep the door open to it.


Namo Amida Bu.

Anyone with a complaint about a Bright Earth Minister or the Bright Earth temple should follow the Amida Trust complaints procedure, found on Amida Trust’s site.

Dharma Glimpse by Dave Smith

I don’t really have a regular routine for my meditation, but when I have the time in the mornings I go down into the garden and sit in the early morning sun. I take my phone with me and set it to “Do not disturb” and then set a timer for twenty minutes. I have a nice gentle ringtone to end my meditation rather than an intrusive beeping sound.  This is something I have been doing for several years now. The other morning I arrived at my usual spot and then realised that I had forgotten my phone. Rather than go all the way back up the steps to get it, I thought I would just sit and meditate without a timer and just see how it went.

The difference was quite noticeable. One of the many unwanted thoughts that usually pop into my head when meditating is ”I wonder how long I’ve got left?”, or sometimes if I feel like I’ve been sitting there a while “ did I remember to set the timer?”

This time something felt distinctly different. I hadn’t previously realised it, but having a time limit set for my meditation somehow made it into a task that I had to complete, it had taken away the enjoyment and freedom to a certain extent. This time the anticipation of my alarm going off was not there and I found it easier to relax, there was no pressure to become calm and still within a twenty minute time frame. It was up to me when to stop, not some arbitrary time limit that I had decided to set myself.

As I began to emerge from my deep stillness, I decided that I wasn’t ready yet and went back to meditating, this happened a number of times until I felt that I had sat long enough. When I finally opened my eyes, I felt so much more refreshed, it was like the difference between waking up in the morning to an alarm clock or waking up gently in your own time.

This is now the new norm for me and I enjoy and appreciate my morning meditation so much more. I don’t know if I’m sitting for longer or not and it doesn’t really matter. I am sitting for as long as I need to. I have also noticed that since not timing my meditations I seem to be forgetting my phone a lot more during the day which is definitely a good thing

Namo Amida Bu

Dharma Glimpse by Paramita

It’s not often that I remember anything coherent from the chaotic imbroglio of weirdness and obscurity that spews out of my mind while I’m asleep. I can never usually interpret much that might prove useful to me, and often feel envious when I hear the richness and clarity of others’ dreams. I sometimes wonder whether my dreams come to me via some external source, like the universal muse or like some random etheric download from the cosmic mind.

In a recent dream, I was enjoying a swim at the local pool, diving onto the bottom and swimming along under the surface, as I often do in my waking state. Suddenly I became aware that I was watching myself from an outside perspective, and as I dived in, the surface of the water froze over, seeming to trap me underneath. There was no panic and nothing like the dark feelings that I usually get when my dreams take a sinister turn. Just a slightly puzzled feeling and a sense of curiosity about the meaning when I woke up.

As I thought about this it felt more and more important, so I turned to the internet for some input and found that, in dream code, diving into water often symbolises overwhelm, or is used to highlight the deliberate attempts that we make to understand our unconscious psychological material. This made perfect sense in light of the therapy session that I had had the previous day, when we were unburdening some of my exiled IFS(Internal Family Systems)parts and their feelings. The freezing may well have been a stuckness that I feel as I fail to make the kind of headway that I think I need to.
Later on that week, a Templemate told me about her dream, which offered an even richer thread of imagery involving mental baggage and intergenerational processes. A handbag that didn’t feel right, holding unresolved feelings and a trauma pattern filtering down through a long family lineage.
I couldn’t help but wonder in awe at how  amazing and fascinating it is that the mind has a pre-existing stock of symbols and imagery that it uses to communicate with us and to convey important information about psychological processes. It seems to have a natural tendency towards healing. Maybe healing some great wound that we collectively suffered over the millennia that we’ve been playing out our societal games…maybe even from before? Some primordial schism being reconciled in the midst of our preoccupied bumbling!

One of the things that attracted me so strongly to Buddhism is its unapologetic  fascination with the Mind. After all, there can be no question that it is central to all and everything. When I think about dreams, the vast ocean of memories and feelings that exist outside of our thinking, waking minds, it seems more and more likely that our minds are constantly moving us toward some great resolution. Maybe dreams are one of the channels through which our samskaras(mental confections that lead to delusions about ourselves) are uprooted, worked out or slowly neutralized?

It’s probably one of the things that we, or at least I, will never know. Maybe some of these things need to remain a mystery in order to retain their healing power and keep us thinking, guessing, wondering at the depth and richness of everything.

Namo Amida Bu!

Dharma Glimpse by Chris Earle-Storey

I visited my parents the other day. It’s not something I do as much as I should, but it was a lovely sunny day and I happened to be nearby, so I decided to drop in and say hello. 

My parents’ resting place is a secluded corner behind the shelter of a tall hedge. I spend a while clearing the weeds and grass from around the headstone which marks the dates of their passing. It’s over 12 years since Dad passed away, and nearly 24 since Mum died. I still miss them very much and sit in fond remembrance, enjoying the warm sunshine and peaceful atmosphere.

I decide to walk the long way through the cemetery, a route I had not walked for a while. This takes me through the old part of the site, where weeds thrive on ancient graves and crumbling stone monuments have been laid flat by the council to make sure they are not a hazard to passers-by. One of the few headstones still standing here catches my attention. It is a memorial to a young woman who died in 1923, aged only 22 years and named Mary. The inscription tells me she was the only child of John and Margaret.

As I read the inscription, the words “beloved” and “always in our hearts” seem to leap out at me, and I feel a sudden rush of emotion. To my surprise and consternation, I find that there are tears in my eyes. What is it that has so affected me?

It is 100 years since this young woman died. Her parents will have passed away a long time ago, and she had no siblings to provide offspring and remember her. It’s clear from the state of the plot – and, sadly, this one is no different from the ones surrounding it – that there is no-one left to care for her grave. No-one comes to lay flowers and shed tears. No-one remembers. No-one cares.

For a moment I am filled with sorrow, not just for the unknown Mary but for myself and my parents. I know that when my brother and I are gone, there will be no-one to visit Mum and Dad and tend their resting place. In time, this too will be my fate: there will be no-one left who remembers me. I turn away from Mary’s grave, feeling as if there is a black cloud hanging over me. Why did I have to come this way and be faced with the bleak inevitability of death and the cruelty of time’s passing?

As I rejoin the path, a blackbird in the tree above me suddenly bursts into song. It’s almost as if it sees how sad I am and wants to lift my spirits. I stand and watch it for a moment, and I imagine that this bird contains the spirit of the young dead girl. In that moment, I am struck by the thought that nothing really dies. We are all made of stardust, and we continue to live on in other ways even when our human bodies die and decay. Yes, impermanence is everywhere and in everything, but so is continuance. We go back to the earth, and the earth accepts us and regenerates.

I leave the cemetery with a lightness of step. The next time I visit, as well as putting flowers on my parents’ grave, I am going to leave a token at Mary’s. I will honour her memory, just as the earth does.

Namo Amida Bu.

If you don’t stand for something – you’ll fall for anything.

This popular culture maxim never seemed more appropriate than it does in these increasingly turbulent and devisive times. It may sound a bit old and overused but, in light of the current state of things, it actually bears quite a fresh significance.

I spent several days in Glasgow this week, showing my support for Extinction Rebellion in their efforts to maintain scrutiny and political pressure on our world leaders, who seem to require the proverbial rocket up their backsides in order to even seem like they’re doing anything of any consequence towards the existential threat that we’re facing.

The mood in the city felt quite surreal at times. Maybe the effects of a transition for many, from a low level of awareness of all things Climate Change, to an increased presence of the matter in the press, making it all the more difficult to turn away from and maybe enhancing the sense of confusion and frustration that still surrounds the Covid fiasco. The people were mostly very sweet and helpful, and maybe a bit bewildered and overwhelmed by the sudden increase in the intensity of the shift that we’re seeing. I have certainly felt, at times, a decline in my own sense of general wellbeing as a result of being confronted with the prospect of such an uncertain future.

However, it is interesting that when we take some kind of action to address a problem that concerns us, our perspective on it can change and it can somehow, all of a sudden, seem much less daunting. I’m thinking of the Climate Emergency as a primary example here, but have experienced this effect on many occasions in the past. The impact of horror and misery diminished in the face of the kind of courage and humility that transcends our selfish interests and somehow penetrates to the heart of the problem.

In this context(activism), it felt like being removed from the sense of impending catastrophe and somehow placed above it, so as to be able to perceive it from a relative vantage point, thereby reducing its impact without negating the seriousness of it. This effect may be as simply explained as the idea that ‘a problem shared is a problem halved’. 100,000 people united in the spirit of a single cause is a much less daunting prospect than trying to tackle it alone or in small numbers. But that alone doesn’t really seem to speak to the feeling that I had as I marched through the rain soaked streets with my colleagues and friends along with thousands of complete strangers.

In reality, I never felt closer to the weight of the problem. In fact, in a certain sense, it felt amplified by being in the city, so near the beating heart of commerce, bombarded by the super-cynicism of the heavy hitting profiteers, all falling over themselves to hijack the Climate Change bandwagon and convince us all that their product will be the one that makes a difference, that plucks us from the jaws of certain death as we blindly and apathetically consume our way towards disaster!

Without the unifying effect of the XR brand of activism, I might actually have been overwhelmed by these more spiritually corrosive forces and resigned to playing the victim instead of actually standing up and claiming my rightful place amongst those who commit to challenging the status quo and staying on the right side of history.

Although this level of deceit is disturbing and, in some ways inspiring for me, it probably has a more trivialising effect for a large chunk of the population, who still have little or no sense of the devastation that awaits if systemic change is not immediately implemented. They are as likely to swallow the commercial greenwashing as they are the wanton fallacies that are being spouted by our crooked leaders, who seem to be just trying to bide their time until the story dies down, so they can get back to promoting business as usual.

We heard of a certain high profile, international business that was advising its clients that 2-3 degrees of global warming would be good for their profits, and the sooner we get there the greater the gains. This mentality highlights the naivety, cynicism and misunderstanding at the heart of the problem that we face; Which is only worsened by politicians such as Boris Johnson, who is world renowned for his lack of integrity, claiming Climate Leadership and thereby undermining the authenticity of the whole business!

You might be detecting a hint of anger and skepticism in the tone that I am writing with, but I also, believe it or not, hold out a certain amount of hope for a different future. It may be radically different from the greener and brighter future that we are being promised by the powers that be, but I still firmly believe in the resilience and beauty of the human spirit. And that, there will always be a strong current of love and hope at work in whatever survives and emerges for the prospects of posterity.

As a Buddhist I feel very lucky that I get to depend more on the qualities of my faith, that are not conditional upon societal prosperity, than to have to place all of my hopes and dreams on a system that was always doomed to failure.

Namo Amida Bu.

Dayamay.

Dharma Talk by Kim Allard

What attracted me to Pureland Buddhism was being able to relate to the practice and teachings and not feeling shame or failure if my practice wasn’t done rigorously and in a disciplined way.

Not leaving well enough alone I bought some books and ended up in tears when the author dove into the experience of Amida with such an intellectual lens I found myself lost in a forest of concepts that were beyond my grasp.  The presentation left me feeling a failure because I could not hold two contradictory concepts of reality within my mind as an “ah ha” moment. 

I kept reading that real knowledge of Amida is that his power, compassion and loving acceptance is real but if you observe it you’ve missed the whole point. It’s when you let go of observing that true enlightenment is achieved. This left me feeling like I was standing in a featureless room understanding nothing after all.

What happened to the warm voice within me that hears my joy, my sadness and interacts with me?  Where is the power that guides me and teaches me and assures me that Amida will always be with me? 

As I drink my coffee this morning I am going to find my way back to that place. The new book will go on the shelf as a message for another. I am open to new ideas and concepts but I have always relied on my instincts for finding the right fit. Whether I am simply not ready for another view of Amida or I need the more personal approach or I lack the intellect to grasp this authors view of being – but not if I observe it – leaves me bereft.

I will now pick up Satya’s book and find my way back to a place I know and trust and sit a while. I’m pretty sure Amida will meet me there as well.  

Love and light 🙏