Category: spirit

Rely on Your Strength

by Raquel Rios, posted in agency, change, conscientious engagement, consciousness, corona virus, death, energy, faith, fear, freedom, hope, spirit, Uncategorized

As we move into the next phase of recovery, many of us are suffering from anxiety. I think it’s because we know it’s time to move forward but we don’t know what to expect. We also can’t be sure that we’re not going to cause more harm to ourselves or to others. My morning meditation evoked a memory that boosted my spirit and I thought I’d share the story.

Several years ago, a friend and I went on a trip to Puerto Rico. While sitting on the beach sipping a drink, we stared at a small island in the distance. We were both about to turn 40, so we began tossing around the idea of whether or not we could reach that island by swimming.

Behind us, there was a small kiosk selling an assortment of beach items including snorkeling gear. The sales clerk was quite friendly. We inquired about the distance and she rented us the equipment easily.

We stood on the edge of the water and put on the black goggles and positioned the mouth piece. I was looking forward to scuba diving, like in the movies. I teased my friend, she punched my arm and we started our journey. Within seconds of my face hitting the water, I knew the goggles were tight and overwhelming. The mouth piece felt enormous. It wasn’t a very good feeling at all.

My friend took the lead and slowly, I got the hang of it. I kept my thoughts steady. I was careful not to let water get into the tube. I didn’t like the sound of my breathing, but I carried on. At one point, my friend turned around and gave me a thumbs up. A few silvery fish swam by. They were so small and curious.

About twenty-five minutes into our journey, I accidentally ducked my head too far under water causing trouble with my mouth tube. The gurgling sound alarmed me and I realized I was about to inhale some water. I had to stop swimming and empty the tube out. How was I going to do this while floating simultaneously? The idea worried me. I always struggled juggling two things at one time. I bounced to the top and got on with this strange maneuver. Meanwhile, my friend swam ahead. She had no idea that I had stopped. In the midst of all this, I looked up to take stock of our distance. The island appeared so far away. How was that possible, I wondered, we had been non-stop swimming? It dawned on me that we had veered off with the current.

My heart beat quickened and I felt my body weight. I started to doggie paddle while desperately trying to get my mask back down over my face. Regrettably, the inside of the goggles had steamed up and the mouth piece was still burbling. That’s when I lost it and began to go under. More water poured inside my equipment so when I opened my eyes and tried to breathe, it became agonizing. I was really panicking now. I realized I could drown right there. They’d find my swollen body floating in the great in-between.

The water was relentless. The silver fish, adorable just a minute ago, looked like piranhas. To my left a monstrous coral reef. I had to do something quick. I finally yanked off the mouth piece and goggles and tossed them into the water and now free, I swam my way to the top and gasped for air.

Thankfully my friend was nearby. She had seen me lag behind and had come back to fetch me. Both our heads were bobbing in the water, my eyes red and my breathing heavy.

“You alright?” She called out.

“No,” I stammered. “I can’t make it.”

“Try to relax. You can make it. Where’s your gear?”

“I tossed it. I was getting an anxiety attack. I can’t breathe with it on.”

She turned and looked at the island. “We’re not that far,” she said but looked worried.

“I think I’ll just swim now. I’m good at that.”

“Alright. I’ll stay close. Let me know if you need me.”

Screen Shot 2020-06-22 at 3.00.45 PMSuddenly, I remembered that I was a pretty good swimmer. In fact, I was awesome at the back stroke. I felt a burst of energy and began to move quickly. I flipped over on my back and within seconds, I felt my body glide ahead at a vigorous speed. My arms moved effortlessly through the water like oars. The strength returned to my legs. I didn’t stop and I didn’t think— I just sped through the water straight.

After some time, I turned over and slowed down to look where I was. The island was just a few meters away. I swam until I hit land. When I stepped out of the water, I looked for my friend who was close behind. I couldn’t believe we had made it. We fell hard onto the white, sandy beach and looked up at the sky. Then, we laughed.

“You scared the shit out of me,” my friend said.

“Me too,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t know what happened. I just freaked out. I couldn’t breathe. That stupid snorkeling equipment just wasn’t working for me.”

“Well, you didn’t need it. You were amazing once you let go and relied on your back stroke.”

 

Muggles, Witches, Wizards and Yoda

by Raquel Rios, posted in activism, agency, community, consciousness, energy, equity, learning, mindfulness, School, social emotional learning, spirit, Uncategorized

“Learning organizations of the future will be centers where Master Teachers and students study consciousness and practice manifesting ideas into reality.”

~Ríos, Mindful Practice for Social Justice

What would have happened to Harry Potter if he had not attended Hogwarts School of Witches and Wizardry? Hogwarts is the highly selective school based on a magical quill that detects the birth of magical children keeping their names in a large parchment book. There is no admission test because according to J.K. Rowling, “Everyone who shows magical ability before their eleventh birthday will automatically gain a place at Hogwarts; there is no question of not being ‘magical enough’; you are either magical or you are not.”

Harry Potter discovers he is a wizard while living in a very small room under the stairs, in the ordinary, non-magical world of Muggles. It takes a pack of owls, a flurry of acceptance letters and magic to free Harry from his uncle’s grip, who wants to keep Harry from his destiny. Harry’s uncle is terrified of what the child’s powers might bring.

Did J.K. Rowling tap into our greatest desire and our greatest fear with the Harry Potter series? Are we either magical or are we not? What is it about this select group of powerful children who get to study at a magnificent school in a castle that creates widespread delight and fascination all over the world?

According to Dewey, all children are born with powers. He writes:

The only true education comes through the stimulation of a child’s powers. The child’s own instincts and powers furnish the material and give the starting point for all education. 

But, what are these powers exactly? Dewey refers to a child’s natural tendencies and talents and also, to a highly specialized power of plasticity and adjustment, which is the ability to grow and develop, learn from experience, modify actions based on experience and develop habits and dispositions. In other words, the capacity to become something different under external influences. Capacity, according to Dewey, is an ability, a force positively present, that when looked at from a social standpoint, involves a fundamental interdependence.

Yoda_Empire_Strikes_BackYoda, the legendary Jedi Master in the Star War series is known for his deep connection to a force positively present. The teachings of Master Yoda are based on learning how to tap into the force by channeling energy and a training of the mind. What starts out as a seemingly simple mindfulness meditation practice, becomes the capacity to move material objects— in other words, the ability to alter the material world through the power of our mind. Watch this:

Why is taking a break from reality and thinking about Muggles, Witches, Wizards and Yoda important? This week, we have witnessed the unraveling of a scandal amongst the rich and famous for admittance into several top-rate universities. At the same time, in New York City, we are witnessing a full blown battle involving Mayor de Blasio over entrance into eight specialized high schools, centered around the notion of equity. Both cases raise important questions about fairness, merit and the purpose of education.

Perhaps we have got it all wrong. Perhaps we are wasting our energy trying to fix a system that is broken. Visionary Buckminster Fuller said, “You never change things by fighting an existing reality. To change something, build a new model that makes the old model obsolete.”

It is important to take notice of where we focus our attention. Are we channeling our energy to create the schools of the future that serve a higher purpose? Are we taking the  time to look beyond old mental models that have created the current situation? What I see are new schools that are designed to tap into each child’s innate power and potential. They will be open and accessible, magical and fun. They will be led by Master Teachers who will lead us through change and adaptability. There in this vision, I experience a positive force present, and a deep regard for our interdependence.

___

Democracy and Education: an introduction to the philosophy of education John Dewey, New York, The Macmillan company, 1916.

My Pedagogic Creed, John Dewey, Journal of the National Education Association, 1929

 

Letting Go and Coming Together

by Raquel Rios, posted in change, community, Compassion, consciousness, energy, faith, freedom, healing, mindfulness, spirit, Uncategorized

“When we do zazen alone, it is not the same as when we do it with others. To do it alone the result is not so deep. And to continue doing it alone is difficult. But to do zazen with many others is the same as many logs burning.” Zen Teachings of Master Taisen Deshimaru

We can reconcile any difficulties in life with awareness and appreciation of shared human experience, that which comes from the discipline of mindfulness.

I am at a funeral parlor looking at the body of a woman who belonged to my childhood. In the wooden box, she looks petite and empty while in life she filled up the room with noble height and energy. I look around and think, what do I say to the mourning family, and to this group of distant friends and strangers? What words have meaning when no one really knows the association, the level of attachment, the impact she had?

One by one a person gets up to speak. Then the music plays, followed by a lively preacher. It is all so simple now. It is human connection, feelings moving, a communication of spirit. The preacher knows this, for this is his gift, to make us feel connected in this strange and uncomfortable space called death. He knows that we all have something in common, and it is more than our relationship to this woman. I sit real still and open myself to my senses.  I am no longer in my body.

I am at another funeral now with a different woman in the box, older, petite, empty. I am told I am to sit in the front row with the family. I don’t think it is my place to be in the front row but I do as I am told and as the ceremony proceeds, I become her family.

Awareness of shared human experience, that which comes from the discipline of mindfulness, is the beginning of all meaningful and transformative interaction in society. This awareness can only be achieved when we strip away identity, knowledge, language, words that define us, the constructs of our mind that categorize and delineate who we are in relation to each other, and our role in society.

It is difficult to see each individual in our midst, especially those who we have no real attachment to, no association with, no understanding of how we adorn our lives– as family. Family as in equal in value to those closest to us. It is difficult to see others as in need of our love and protection. I think if we can think this way, and be this way more, as in coming together as family, we will be fair and kind and enlightened in our interactions with each other. We would give ourselves permission to reach out more across lines. Why is this so difficult?

I see a child sitting on the carpet building a tall structure out of wooden blocks. There she is again on a beach erecting a sand castle. I see the shock and sadness that envelopes her when the tower topples over. What does she do now, with this emptiness, this hole that is left in place of her creation? What does she have to learn in this process?

There is a swift pain and sadness when we first learn about letting go. We want the tower or the castle to stay on forever. It is so beautiful and we enjoyed building it. And yet, when it is knocked over by time, a passerby, or an unexpected tide, we are required to see things differently. It is the great encounter with the silence that lies between then and now, the precise moment in which one must decide, shall I start again on my own or walk away in search of solace and company? And on and on it goes.

When we talk about the practice of mindfulness and we share a deep desire for a more just and enlightened society, we are talking about knocking down our towers and castles, and allowing the tenderness of heart, and loss to come into our lives, to see the emptiness and futility of holding onto earthly creations. They are all folly and temporary besides, and to be able to look into that open space in time, just when the castle has fallen and we are left suspended, deciding what to do and where to go, it is there we search for new possibility and belonging.

Herein lies the difficulty and promise of letting go and coming together.