using the arrow buttons.
by clicking on the page.
the page around when zoomed in by dragging it.
the zoom using the slider when zoomed-in.
by clicking on the zoomed-in page.
by entering text in the search field, and select "This Issue" or "All Issues"
by clicking on thumbnails to select pages, and then press the print button.
displays sections with thumbnails and descriptions.
displays a slider of thumbnails. Click on a page to jump.
allows you to browse the full archive.
about your subscription?
Lions Roar : September 2013
could hear his breathing from across the room. He had done the same thing during the years he was running his club. Clearly, the guy was as exhausted by his retirement as he was by his work. During the interview session, Ralph said, “I can’t find time to sit at home. Here I’ve been sleeping during the sits and it feels good. Like I’m in a safe place, napping like a little kid, and resting deeply.” (Most little kids don’t snore, but I didn’t mention that.) No Internet access or cell phone signal penetrated the granite mountains of the canyon holding our retreat center. Was that what Ralph had meant by “safe”? Safe from interruptions and demands? I was a bit startled to hear his confession; even more startled to hear what seemed like a justification. As if this sleep was what we all hoped for from Ralph. As if that were the reason the sangha rented the hunting lodge, draped Tibetan scarves over the dead-animal heads mounted on the walls, lit candles, and turned a place that celebrated death into one that honored life. Yeah, I felt smug. At least I didn’t sleep. Though if I’d been more honest, I’d have confessed to the group how much of my meditation time—both on retreat and at home—is taken up with plotting new novels. Plotting doesn’t make noise like sleeping can. No snoring is involved. I did once burst into a muffled guffaw at a funny line of dialogue I’d thought up, though. I pretended it was a cough I couldn’t hold back. On my better mornings at home, I wake and let my dogs, Zoe and Elliot, outside for a minute and then bring them into my writing cabin. There I have my meditation cushion and shawl tucked beneath the east window. The pups curl up at my knees and wait until I bring my hands together before my chin and dip my head, marking the end of my sit. Then it’s a crazy rush for the door and the breakfast bowls. However, I’d hate to count how many mornings at home my dogs and I go straight to the breakfast bowls, do not pass medi- tation cushion. I hang my excuse on Zoe and Elliot: they’re just too hungry for me to put off breakfast forty minutes because of meditation. My dogs haven’t disputed that decision yet. We meditators often complain about not having time to sit, and when I do, I often think of the poet William Stafford. Whether he was home or traveling, Bill woke every morning at four or five to write. I accompanied him years ago on one of his poetry tours in the West and heard him read many of those poems that arose from his early morning routine. In his book of essays, Crossing Unmarked Snow, he admits that when people complained to him that they couldn’t find time to write, “I have to avert my eyes, not to look accusingly at them.” Because he knew that all of us have the same amount of time he did. I imagine spiritual teachers feel the same way when they hear us complain, “I just can’t find time to meditate.” After the group interview, I realized that I had no basis for my smugness about Ralph. I couldn’t know what was going on in his life or psyche, nor in anyone else’s. And if the retreat gave Ralph deep rest and renewed Nora’s meditation vows once again, I was Professional development, spiritual practice, innovative approaches to End of Life Care. Attend full series for $1,000 discount or choose a single module. Metta Institute Trainings in Mindful & Compassionate Care WWW.METTAINSTITUTE.ORG 415 331–9600 SAN FRANCISCO BAY AREA INFO@ METTAINSTITUTE.ORG FACULTY: Frank Ostaseski, Rachel Naomi Remen, Ram Dass, Norman Fischer, Charlie Garfield, Frances Vaughan, Angeles Arrien, Ange Stephens and more. End Of Life Practitioner Program: Cultivating Presence October 2–7, 2013. New Series begins April 2014. SHAMBHALA SUN SEPTEMBER 2013 18