Finding Shambhala

Shambhala, I have a hard time with you. Again and again, my home, the West misinterprets, misappropriates, capitalizes on you, and this makes me uncomfortable. I do not understand you, dear Shambhala, though I have heard your story.

According to certain Buddhist teachings there is a mythical kingdom, an enlightened society called Shambhala somewhere near Tibet. In 1984, the Tibetan Buddhist teacher Chögyam Trungpa used the name Shambhala for a book: Shambhala: The Sacred Path of the Warrior.

It's a secular book focusing more on the lifestyle of what Trungpa calls warriorship more than any spirituality, though it draws on many principles of meditation and spirituality from religious practices across the world.

I first came across this book a few years ago. I was at a Power of Hope camp, I think my first year as a full-staff volunteer. One of the youth had come across a copy in the small library of Tierra Learning Center, or someone let him borrow it, I don't know. I learned a story that says in a time of darkness in the world the Kingdom of Shambhala will walk the world. These Shambhala warriors essentially will be harbingers of peace and goodness stepping out and teaching that there is another path. It's an allegory because these "warriors" aren't some mythical people streaming out of a kingdom, but the angels, the ordinary people who walk among us awakening to their own potential.

At some point in the last few months I acquired a copy of this little book. I started carrying it with me, reading a page here, a paragraph there, even practicing some of the teachings.

The end of this quarter has made me feel haggard despite my preference for Wilson Library on campus. But then I have started to take steps back and examine my life through this lens of warriorship.

I would find myself asking, where are my thoughts right now? What am I feeling? And I've been learning to appreciate these thoughts for what they are: thoughts. Stress is not a bad thing or a good thing. It's a natural reaction to our environment and thoughts.

My life has been, is stressful. I spread myself pretty thin sometimes being involved and active in my commUnities on multiple levels. To some friends, it's exhausting even thinking about all the stuff I do, let alone actually doing it (and doing it well). Add on top of this the fact that I'd been pursuing a relationship with a gentleman of my acquaintance and grown rather fond of his company, but when we finally “talked” we agreed that we had to be friends first. Which is to say he told me it isn't going to happen like that and though I will admit I cried and I'm still somewhat disappointed and hurt, I respect him enough to recognize I will not change his mind by forcing him to like me. And so moving forward as friends first.

Leading two clubs, working on campus, classes, living on my own, boys, the laundry list never ends and I'm sure for some people it's longer and for others it's shorter but no less difficult. I bring this up not to compare, but to contextualize that for my circumstances I have every reason to feel stressed and often do, but the key here is that I'm learning to question whether or not such stress should stop me from being happy.

It's a lesson I've been learning for years, and I think we're all learning it every day.

And since I've started this practice of warriorship, I've noticed a kind of vulnerability in myself that has come with this learning. Having the luxury of time to myself the last few weeks, I've been working on my meditation and my heART work (a topic I will post about tomorrow) and I've found myself prone to both random fits of sadness and random fits of joy, often at the same time. A certain song will come on or I will read a sentence in my book and as I continue in what I am doing, I will notice I'm crying. I then take a moment to myself and I experience it.

I experience the hell out of those tears. What I've found is that yes, there's sadness. Right now especially there's a deep loneliness that has yet to find solace. But there's also joy; joy so brilliantly bright it hurts. Sometimes there's anger. Sometimes there's laughter so innocent and pure. It's overwhelming; in ways it's exhausting. It's beautiful.

And that's my gift to myself, because in letting myself experience this and in letting myself be overwhelmed, I'm accepting my strength. If that's what I can experience internally in just one short moment by myself, then imagine what kind of glory the world holds! I'm blessed to be here.

Though my language may sound preachy, my place is not necessarily to evangelize. Because as I've said before, I'm at your service. I'm sharing this experience of warriorship, of growth and learning just as much for my mental well-being in coping with this as I am to help foster similar growth within the people around me, regardless which path you take.

I think that's what Shambhala has come to mean to me. In all senses of the word it is in part practice. Practice at life. And to me at least, life is happiness.

Finals Week

I woke up today and I felt stressed.

I felt worried and sad and hurt.

But then as I got up and walked to campus I looked around at the trees and the clouds and I decided that I'm not going to let my stress hold me back and keep me from being happy, beautiful, lovable me.

Since I have short break in the middle of my finals week, I'm getting STI testing done today. I'm not concerned that I have anything, but I've been sexually active for almost a year and a half and this is long overdue. Getting tested isn't just about me, it's also about the health and safety of my current partner, and that's something I'm trying to be responsible about.

Forgive this long-(short-)winded ramble, my mind is in eight and a half different places right now. Perhaps I should find somewhere quiet on campus since I'm up and about and meditate. Or exercise, that always helps.

I'm stressed, but I also feel calm, serene even.

It's still there, this stress, walking beside me, but I'm holding its hand, telling it thank you for reminding me I'm human. Thank you stress for reminding me that life is a challenge and I'm winning.

Revisiting Old Diary Entries

February 16, 2009

I find myself moving, cleaning. Agitated. As if I'm overcompensating for something This cleaning binge I'm on I know it's symptomatic of something else. I'm emotionally disturbed and as a way of maintaining the illusion of control, I'm perfecting my environment. I'm faintly disturbed by this becuse I consciously know I'm doing it, but I can't stop. It's an effort of will to even sit down this long and write this.

There's nothing left for me to clean short of going downstairs and checking out a vacuum. I don't think I'm ready for that tonight, but maybe Thursday...

February 17, 2009

Excerpt from a dream:

"We still have the ability to change the world, even if we don't have the abilities to change the world."

I don't remember the context of this first entry, why I felt so agitated, but I know the feeling well. Stress manifests itself in strange ways. It marks a strange and sudden shift from the first half wherein I had waxed poetic about the inspiration I gained from meeting my friend Kevin for the first time.

And then the next morning I wake from a dream where all I remember is a simple inspirational quote that almost makes no sense.

I ask: What interruption pushed me in these ways? And hold no clues but the vague memories of the past and these small, concrete writings.

A Matter of Priorities

I'm running out of energy, worrying about stretching myself too thin.
It's not a matter of stress, but a matter of time. I'm everywhere at once, going nowhere fast.
I know I can keep this up at least for now, but I need a break. Thanksgiving weekend sound good to anyone?

Activities keep me busy, but I can't focus on any of them the way I really want to. I feel like my writing for nanoNaNoWriMo is fair to middling at best; the only class I pay full attention in is Chinese (which I hate) because I know I'll fail if I don't; I'm too tired to be as enthusiastic as I'd like in everything else and the only time I see friends are either when I'm studying, eating, in class, or working on one of these projects with them.

It's a matter of priorities and balancing my time. And I'm doing decent so far, but it's draining me. I need something to pull me in, to keep me focussed and to give me reason to want to keep up with this juggling act. I guess that's the question I'm really starting to ask myself. Why am I still going?

I'm far more prone to bouts of irritability and don't feel like my normal, positive self. I know that's not who I am or who I want to be, but I don't really know how to get back to that place without somehow failing in areas that really mean a lot to me. Involvement is what I do, I can't help it, how do I make this worth my while?

That said, somehow I'm happy.
Yeah, tired and stressed and desperately in need of more days in the week, but happy. I love being this busy even if I'm slowly going insane. Call it a bad habit from my days as a student journalist.

Simmer on low heat until you've reduced me to tears.

Organizational stress is one of the few kinds of stresses that gets to me. Planning and coordinating different people and hoping that things work out according to said plans is one of the few kinds of activities that with enough time would have the potential to reduce me to tears, this is more likely if the thing I'm trying to organize is something I truly care about.

So, if you ever want to see Danny have a nervous breakdown, ask him to plan your wedding.

I think the reason this kind of stress gets under my skin so much is that it often lacks that element of control. There are too many unpredictable variables, too many people involved in coordinating even simple events for you to be able to do anything but hope people pull through with what you ask them to.

I trust people, probably at times entirely too much, but there comes a point where I'm trusting too many people to come through like a series of dominoes, perfectly in order, all at once: it shakes my faith and puts doubt in myself. My natural inclination towards positivity and optimism makes it hard for me to admit that I have doubts about people I trust, but that doesn't change that the doubts are there.

I'm much happier when I have control, not necessarily to micro-manage since I also believe it's important to respect the personal space of the people you're working with and trust them to do what they need to do in their own way, but I've lived so long by the adage that if you want something done right you do it yourself that it's hard to give up that independence simply because I've never really had people available to ask to do it for me.

It's not even about the people either. Sometimes my fear comes from chance. A computer crashes or a bus is late or something happens. Something always happens and while I can usually improvise and find a way to work through this, the thought of it is daunting.

As a result, I have a tendency to overcompensate. I always make sure every possible base is covered almost to the point of redundancy. I will double and triple check that people know what time and where and who with as well as where to go if something goes wrong. Nobody's ever said it, but I'm sure I can get annoying about it with the way I will reiterate and rephrase everything so that there is absolutely no possible way you can confuse what I'm saying and meaning.

A lesson in relaxation

Life is a crazy, stressful place, so when all else fails you, take a moment and breathe. Inhale. Exhale. Repeat. Feel the air moving in and out of your body. Feel your chest rise and fall as your lungs expand and contract. Wherever you hold tension in your body: let it go. Relax those muscles as many times as it takes until they stay relaxed. For me it’s the back of my neck.

Close your eyes if you’re comfortable enough and it’s safe for you to do so.

But why does this work? It’s simple really, we don’t do it enough. In our everyday lives, we’re running, always running, and don’t take the time to stop and smell the proverbial lavender (really, it smells better than roses, just doesn’t look as pretty).

Now, I’m not saying we go around oxygen deprived, but deep breathing of the kind that calms? It’s nearly non-existent.

So do yourself a favor, pause your busy life and breathe.