a pick-up truck drives past – in the back a circling whir of black & white collie, gleefully chasing his tail

Satya writes: That’s my small stone for today. It’s nothing fancy – just a description of something I witnessed ten minutes ago. I observed it, and then I wrote it down.

It meant that I paid extra attention to this blur of energy. For a moment I borrowed some of the dog’s tail-wagging happiness.

I’d like to invite you to do the same over the next 24 hours, especially if you haven’t done it before, and leave your small stone in the comments section.

You might describe the smell of your cup of coffee or the way your Christmas lights are reflecting off the pool of your window. You might record a snippet of overheard conversation. You might describe the noise your stomach is making.

If you enjoy this sliver of paying attention & mindful writing, then you might want to join our January challenge starting on Tuesday. One small stone every day during the month. It’s free to join in and you can post your small stones on your own blog, on Facebook, on our blog here during the month (we’ll make a post for you every day) or simply write them down in a special notebook.

There’s an optional Booster for £10/$16 with an e-book and a daily email to keep you going – if you’d like your emails to start on Tuesday then do sign up by the end of today. You can invite your friends to join you using our Facebook invite or by sending them this link.

I suggest we move through January as Levertov’s dog does – intently haphazard – every step an arrival. I look forward to reading your small stones today.

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‘meet moss the dog & his red ball’ by Adam Foster

A post from the archives for our Jan ’13 Mindful Writing Challenge, starting in 2 days time…

Kaspa writes: This week my teacher Dharmavidya David Brazier has been in Israel leading some workshops on psychology. In one of them he talked about how really seeing the other can set you free.

What he describes is also the philosophy that underpins this whole project, and I owe a great debt to him, and others, for teaching me.

“…the focus is upon discerning the truth of the other and achieving spiritual maturity. One achieves liberation for oneself by releasing others from the attachment generated by one’s own deluded and stereotypical perception of them. The self-construct is the mirror image of these false views of others. To see the truth of the other is to release them and thereby, incidentally, to release oneself from one’s self-construct.” Love and Its Disappointment blog

As we more clearly see the other, the other moves away from being what, on some level, we want it to be, and becomes more real. In this way we release the other and give it freedom to exist – and we release ourselves too. As we take away the prop to our ‘small self’ and grant it existence, we become liberated.

The truth shall set you free.
(John 8:32, The Bible)

Join us in 2 days time (here’s our Facebook invite if you’d like to invite your friends), and if you’d like to get some extra help you can register for our Mindful Writing Booster – 31 emails & a 128 page PDF for £10/$16.

A blog from the archives…

Satya writes: Prostration.

Even now, seeing the word written down stirs something faintly uncomfortable in me.

When I first attended a Pureland Buddhist service, after some ordinary sitting and walking meditation and some slightly-out-of-my-comfort-zone chanting, I was alarmed to see the entire room tipping forwards to kiss the floor with their foreheads over and over again.

I joined them, feeling extremely awkward. When I came up each time, my hair was all mussed up and covered my eyes. I wasn t sure I was doing it right. I felt like I was outside my body, on the outside of the room, looking in and thinking, What are these people DOING?

At the time, I thought to myself, Well, this prostrations business makes me REALLY uncomfortable. So it s probably quite helpful to carry on doing it and see what happens.

A year later, the awkwardness has disappeared. I find a strange kind of pleasure in placing myself at the feet of the golden Buddha on our shrine.

It is a (gradual, drip by drip) antidote to the huge ego in me that wants to be bigger, better, richer, more beautiful, in charge, in control, the ego that thinks it knows best (it doesn’t).

It is a way of paying respect to the teachings of Shakyamuni Buddha and other Buddhist teachers, to other people and things I’ve learnt from, to the marvellous awe-inspiring jaw-dropping universe.

It is a way of being grateful.

I hope to get better at prostrating both formally as part of a service, and informally as when I say grace before a meal or express my gratitude at a beautiful view in much the same way as Barry Lopez describes below, with a slight dip of my head.

Here’s Lopez, speaking of a summer he spent in the western Brooks Range of Alaska, in his book Arctic Dreams.

“…I went for a walk for the first time among the tundra birds. They all build their nests on the ground, so their vulnerability is extreme. I gazed down at a single horned lark no bigger than my first. She stared back resolute as iron. As I approached, golden plovers abandoned their nests in hysterical ploys, artfully feigning a broken wing to distract me from the woven grass cups that couched their pale, darkly speckled eggs. Their eggs glowed with a soft, pure light, like the window light in a Vermeer painting.

I took to bowing on these evening walks. I would bow slightly with my hands in my pockets, towards the birds and the evidence of life in their nests because of their fecundity, unexpected in this remote region, and because of the serene arctic light that came down over the land like breath, like breathing.”

I prostate myself before you, oh wonderful reader. _/\_
 
Things you might be curious about

When are you humble? When are you the opposite of humble? What helps you to remember your place in the universe? How can you connect with gratitude?

Quotes

As Westerners we tend to think of prostrating as a gesture of defeat or abasement. We think that to show someone else respect is to make ourselves less. Prostrating irritates our sense of democracy, that everyone is equal…On one hand we want to receive the teachings but on the other we don t really want to bow down to anyone or anything. 

 ~Judith Lief

There are two kinds of egotists: Those who admit it, and the rest of us.

~Laurence J. Peter

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Prostrate before the world once a day during January by joining our Mindful Writing Challenge... 3 days to go!

Invitation

It is not what you first think. 

As I type, Emiliana Torrini is singing ‘Fisherman’s Woman‘ – a song that often moves me with its beauty. Kaspa is reading the new Iain M. Banks’ on his kindle. Our woodburner is radiating heat and glowing tangerine. Our old-man cat Fatty has a whole sofa to himself and is demonstrating what-it-is-to-be-relaxed. 

Just an ordinary afternoon. But as I pause to describe these things to you, my experience of them intensifies. When I turn my attention to the fire, I hear the ticking of the expanding wood and the gentle roar of the updraft. I watch the flames as they dance, reminding me of sun on rippling water. By the time I’ve finished writing about my surroundings, I feel a little more snuggled up to the world. I am less tangled up in myself. I am more present.

If we want to live well, we need to pay attention. As Ferris Bueller said, ‘Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.’ What kind of attention do we have to pay to the world in order to live well? 

We need a little quiet & space. Not huge amounts – little slices will do. We need a moment to ‘hold our cup in the cool air’ and prepare ourselves to tune in. It’s very difficult to be present when we’re making shopping lists in our heads or trying to answer three questions at once. This quiet and space can be just-inside-your-head. Three slow breaths will do it. 

We need to let everything in. It’s no good writing about the shocking pink frills of the cyclamen but leaving out the steaming pile of horse shit. Letting everything in requires us to be honest with ourselves, and to let the world be honest with us. We’re interested in the truth here, not just prettiness. 

And I think Andreas is right – we need love. A whole blanket of it. We need to set each object of our attention onto our table which has been spread with love. This helps us to be fond of the things we observe, whether or not they are easily-loveable. This includes people and ourselves. If we observe other’s anger with a loving understanding, we will see the fear underneath the spikiness. If we notice our greed with loving understanding, we can forgive ourselves more easily. 

Try this now. Look around you. Become quiet. Invite as mall stone to come forwards by laying out a tablecloth of love for it. 

During January we would like to help train you to pay this kind of attention to the world and to all the things in it. Every day we challenge you to pause, observe, and write down what you experience. You can keep these small stones in a notebook, or post them on a blog or Facebook, or add them to the comment section of our blog (where we’ll be posting our small stones every day). It doesn’t really matter what you do with them – becoming available to receive them is the most important bit. Find out more about our January Mindful Writing Challenge here.

This year we’re also offering optional Mindful Writing Boosters to keep you motivated while you develop this new habit – they include 31 days of mindful writing prompts and a 128 page e-book about small stones and cost £10/$16. Do sign up before the end of Sunday if you’d like them to start on the 1st. 

The aim of life is to live, and to live means to be aware, joyously, drunkenly, serenely, divinely aware. ~ Henry Miller

Here’s to living. Here’s to loving. Here’s to paying attention. *chink*

Satya writes: Yesterday was Christmas. Our living room was crammed full of both our families – from our gorgeous two year old niece to my 91 year old nana. We ate roast potatoes and played Taboo and squabbled about how much alcohol there was in the trifle. We bumped up against each other. We loved each other.

Today the house is quiet. Kaspa is at work. A magpie’s jagged call occasionally reminds me of the outside. The woodburner ticks and huffs. The cats are asleep. I am in a reflective and vulnerable and grateful mood.

I just finished watching a deeply moving documentary about Sister Wendy Beckett, who lives as a contemplative in the grounds of a Carmelite monastery. She’s famous for her engaging commentaries on great Christian art, and her faith shines through her like sunlight through stained glass. She was clearly uncomfortable when questioning in the film veered towards her own life rather than the life of Jesus. She lives a life of joyful service.

In the documentary, Sister Wendy speaks about the unique times we find ourselves in.

This is the first age in which there’s been very little silence unless it’s sought for. Now nearly everybody can live their whole life being entertained, and that’s very dangerous, because it means you’re never in contact, except at night, with what you are. So although I think the longings and the needs are the same in all ages, and the greeds and the selfishnesses, this age has got this great obstacle to prayer – constant entertainment – and I think people really have to say I’m going to have a period in which I can just be silent.

Non-stop entertainment. The perfect antidote/avoidance-device to sacred space, where we begin to come up against our true nature. Our deeply imperfect, fallible nature.

Sister Wendy is very aware of (and frank about) her own limitations. She also understands that these insights into our nature are a pointer towards something ‘other’, however we might conceptualise of it, which is much larger than our small selves. This much is clear – not despite of but because of her insight into her own foolish being, she is deeply content. She lives a life full of meaning and bathed in awe.

Knowing that we are foolish beings allows us to connect with this ‘other’. It is a gateway to grace.

I might be losing you with the foolish-beings and ineffable-other stuff. That’s okay. You don’t have to take my word for anything. Test it out for yourself.

As an experiment, find three minutes of silence every day during January to focus outwards. Observe whatever you see, taste or feel. Take notice of your internal dialogue or the pain in your knee. Sniff and savour the odour of woodsmoke, or put an ear to your cat’s soft belly. Be curious about the part you play in the arguments or conflicts that circle around and around you. And then, whatever you observe, write it down. Make a small stone every day. See where your small stone pathway leads you.

You don’t have to be a contemplative hermit to write small stones. You can find them in the midst of busy family Christmasses, or on ordinary Boxing Days when it’s raining outside and you’ve eaten too much white chocolate cheesecake. You can find stained glass in a milk bottle. 

You might not find the God that Sister Wendy is familiar with. But I trust that you will find something of unspeakable value. 

Satya writes: A Christmas present for you.

Until the end of today (Christmas Eve) you can download one or both of these of my two books for free. You can read them on your kindle or on your phone or PC.

A Year of Questions is for anyone who wants to s l o o o o w down and fall in love with life. With 52 musings (including questions to ask yourself about your own life), essays and resources, this book will be your guide during 2013. Download it now from Amazon UK, US or your own Amazon.

Read a sample musing from A Year of Questions here.

Small Kindnesses is a gentle mystery novel with a twist, following gardener Leonard as he unravels the secrets of his late beloved wife. Packed with botanical detail and ordinary kindnesses, it will take you through the darker parts of humanity and through to the other side… Download it now from Amazon UK, US or your own Amazon.

Read reviews of Small Kindnesses here.

Do feel free to share this blog with your friends.

Have wonderful Christmasses and I’ll see you on the other side…. love from me & Kaspa at Writing Our Way Home.

Jo, Jade, Lakshmi, Alyson, Rosemary, Ellen, Lisa, Carol, Katie & Rosalind…

If you’re one of these people I’ve already emailed you, and so if you haven’t got an email I’m afraid it’s not you! We had nearly 100 entries, so thank you all for entering.

If you’d like to buy yourself the Booster (or buy one for a friend) here’s the link where you can read more about what you’ll get for your £10/$16.

Roll on January…

We want what we can’t have and don’t want what we do have; we want more of what we like and less of what we don’t like. We are always a little bit hungry, or a little bit defensive, anticipating the slipping away of that which we have worked so hard to achieve. Behind every suffering, Buddhist teachers say, is the desire for things to be different. This attempt to control or manage what cannot be changed interferes with our going on being. We worry about the past and anticipate the future or worry about the future and anticipate the past. Our self-centredness causes us to create an uneasy relationship with the world in which we try to fend off any threads to our hard-won security. This sets up an indefensible position; we become like a fortress; a self within a mind within a body that is threatened from all sides. ~ Mark Epstein, Going on Being

Satya writes: As I read this, I think – ‘oh yes.’ This is me. Always wanting things to be a little bit different. Pushing away the bad stuff. Clinging on to the good.

The antidote to this uncomfortable state of affairs?

Let go. Embrace things as they actually are.

Letting go of the desire for things to be different doesn’t mean accepting the things we can and should change. It means seeing things as they are, and letting the thoughts or feelings that arise dwell in us without pushing at them or getting caught up in them.

Tsuki our cat is unwell at the moment. It may be serious – we might find out tomorrow. I have been trying to sit with the worry, which includes the possibility that she might be dying and the possibility that she might be with us for many more years. I have been sitting with the sadness. I have been sitting with the reminder that we never know how long we have left.

Embracing things as they are. I use the word intentionally – when we embrace someone or something, we bring it close up to ourselves, we touch it, we feel loving towards it. If we can aspire to this attitude with even the worst of what life has to bring us, we can start to accept what is, and learn what we can from it.

It’s not easy. I know that. It’s not easy.

One moment at a time, we can see what there is to be faced. And mindful writing helps us to do that. It helps us find that ‘objective observer’ who can look at notice and be curious. We don’t often encourage people to write small stones about themselves, as they often get caught up in ego – ‘this is how I feel and so this is how things are’ – something like that. Instead we can observe our inner workings as though they belonged to someone else (which possibly they do). Here’s what I just wrote:

what I notice when I look inside: waves of faint sadness like wafts of pine scent from our Christmas tree. digestive rumbles. a mind leaping off and following distraction after distraction. much lower down, something that feels like a purr.

I know myself a little better after writing this. I am able to face the reality of where I am a little more, dukkha (dissatisfaction) and all. I feel a little more free.

Join us during January and experiment with letting the world break in through your fortress of defences.  Let the world show you where you can expand, and open, and embrace more of the world. To feel the bright colours on our skin, rather than wearing a mask which keeps them all away.

And do write a small stone, about yourself or about something else, and add it to the comments.

Go well.

And if you’d like to receive one of the four little gifts we sent our newsletter subscribers, read more here…

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Just breathe by Thomas Hawk with gratitude.

I believe that what self-centered men have torn down, other-centered men can build up.
~ Dr. Martin Luther King

Satya writes: A whooshing, granular noise from several gardens down… something mechanical… cutting something, catching and choking on the thicker stems.

The sun illuminates the top third of the brick wall outside the window, showing up the yellow-green powdery lichen. Some shards of glass or stone glint sharply in the light.

As I write these lines, I’m taken away from my preoccupation with myself. We spend so much of our lives spinning the webs of our identities. What do I want to eat? How can I progress in my career? How can I stay on top of my list-of-jobs and be the kind of person who stays-on-top-of-things?

Writing small stones helps us to break free from these self-constructed sticky webs into an other-centred way of being. Into clear sunshine.

Writing small stones requires that we focus our attention on the creamy chirping of the sparrows in the apple tree, or the funky funk streaming from our radio. They remind us how little we are, and how much we are dependent on, and how much of this glorious life we take for granted. They remind us of the important things, which aren’t usually to be found on a list-of-jobs-to-be-done.

This January, like the past two years, we’re challenging you to write a small stone every day during the month as our Mindful Writing Challenge. It will help you to catch moments like the one in the photograph, which made me smile…

This year we have an optional extra to help you stay focussed – our Mindful Writing Booster – 31 daily emails and a 128 page e-book. It costs £10/$16 and as a little Christmas gift we’re giving ten away. To enter email satya@writingourwayhome.com with ‘Booster’ as the title. We’ll draw the winners on Tuesday night and so get your entries in quick… If you’ve already bought one for yourself do feel free to enter anyway and if you win you could give it away as a Christmas present.

An easy way to invite your friends to join you in January is by using our Facebook invite, or just share this link: http://www.writingourwayhome.com/p/river-jan-12.html with them…

Now, what can you see/smell/hear/feel/taste right now? Post your small stone in the comments…

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‘Rice raider’ by Vermin Inc

There is a way that nature speaks, that land speaks. Most of the time we are simply not patient enough, quiet enough, to pay attention to the story.
~Linda Hogan

Not patient enough, not quiet enough.

Even five minutes of quiet patience can transform an hour, or a day. I’m squeezing in writing this post between clients and Christmas shopping, and trying to do everything a little bit faster so I can squeeze in another job (or three) that needs to be done.

When I paused to write the small stone below, I was able to connect with the garden through our glass double doors. What did it have to say to me this morning? Things change, it said. There’s no hurry. It doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things whether you remember to add parsnips to the Christmas shopping list or not. You have plenty of time, take it slow. But don’t waste your life on trivialities!

- As soon as you’ve finished reading this post, turn from your computer and find a window. Can you see anything green? Can you see the sky?
- Write down what you see. Try out different words for the same thing until you get the right one. What can you hear? What does that colour remind you of? Look again. What have you missed?
- Be quiet. Be patient. What is the landscape telling you?

Shapes smeared and dulled by rain. A bright magpie, monochrome parrot, squawks in the eucalyptus. The broken guttering haemorrhages water.
~ Satyavani

(image by Jose Luis Mieza Photography)

Have you signed up for our January Mindful Writing challenge yet? And if you’ve enjoyed this post and you’d like to receive 31 more like it, delivered into your inbox daily for the whole of January (plus a 128 page small stones ebook) have a look at our £10/$16 Mindful Writing Booster (which is also available as a Christmas present).

And do post your small stone in the comments below. We’ll be offering you the opportunity to do this throughout January so you can get some practice in! I look forward to reading them.