David Vollbracht

Earlier I referenced Annie’s gratitude experiment. At the time I thought I’d be able to reliably hit it every day for 30 days to practice gratitude, but in the end I think I got about 26 days in (which I feel really good about). I’d just like to share a couple of thoughts from reflecting on this experiment.

• I’ve become more aware of my gratitude. I notice it more often and have a better sense of what the experience is like.
• I’ve become more active in sharing my gratitude. I think that is a win both for myself and those around me.
• I simply more grateful and grateful for more things.

So thank you, Annie. You have my gratitude and respect. You stepped up to this commitment and it was a honor to stand there beside you as best I could. You’ve enriched my own daily practice quite a bit and that means something to me.

As a close to this experiment, I like to share my gratitude for two friends that I feel especially grateful for at this moment. Their names are Philippe and Zak, and they are two guys that I’m truly lucky to have in my life right now. Thank you.

To those who have died in the course of military service,

May I be a vessel of remembrance to you, carrying your hopes and dreams into the future.

May I learn from your sacrifice to love all beings, friends and enemies alike.

May I be witness to the sorrow of your death without flinching or shying away.

And may I be a celebration of your life so a small piece of it remains alive in me.

I offer my gratitude, respect, and love in honor of you, and will seek to be awake each moment of life so that the gifts you have given will not be squandered.

Cultivating a heart of gratitude is something I’ve been focusing on lately. I think being thankful leads me to a more accepting, joyous, and compassionate way of life. At the moment, I’m committing myself to an experiment in gratefulness. Taking time each day to pay attention to what I’m grateful for is a small thing, but it’s a good teacher. Here’s to 25 more days of gratitude!

Recently I had the honor of my first Interview. In it I was reminded of the utility of basic Zen practice. Relative mind practices, such as Tonglen, are wonderful instruments for exercising the compassion muscle. My practice of late, however, has consisted of more relative mind practice than practice to connect with what Zen refers to as the Big Mind. Retuning to basic practices such as breath counting, I find myself more awake to everything around me. My advice? If you don’t have a teacher, seek one out. If you have a teacher then rejoice, practice, and share your gratitude.

As a traveling consultant, my livelihood requires me to make two flights a week so that I can be at the client site during the week and home on the weekends. This has taught me that airports and flights are places of great suffering. The stress that travel puts on our minds and bodies often leads us to seek refuge in egoistic thoughts: “I need to get up as soon as the fasten seat belts sign is off so I can get off this plane quickly”, “This person next to me is cramping my space”, “I wish the person in front of me wouldn’t lean their seat back.” If we dwell in these thoughts, travel will be a miserable experience. If we are practicing, however, travel presents a wonderful challenge for moving beyond our ego.

I’ve found the Giving and Taking Meditation to be an effective method for letting go of egoistic thoughts, and travel is a fertile ground for practicing it. Having suffered through many flight experiences, the suffering of those around me feels quite familiar. Drawing in their suffering as part of the meditation a remarkably concrete experience. When I am caught up in travel-related egoistic thoughts, the meditation is a reminder that all those around me are sharing the same experience with the same frustrations. We are all sitting in the same cramped space with a goal of getting someplace other than where we are now. By taking their suffering and letting it soften my heart, my trip becomes more peaceful and – I hope – I can do something to make someone else’s trip just a little more enjoyable.

Next time you travel, try taking a minute to think about all the others around you who are in the same boat you are. Really try to understand what particular travel suffering they are undergoing. Use that understanding to let go of your own ego and be a beacon of peace and joy for those around you stuck in the difficulties of air travel.

I recently learned this meditation in Ezra Bayda’s Being Zen. I have not practiced with it enough to attest to its long term usefulness, but I have found it valuable thus far.

May I dwell in the open heart.
May I attend to whatever clouds the heart.
May I be awake in this moment, just as it is.
May the awakened heart be extended to all beings.

May you dwell in the open heart.
May your suffering be healed.
May you be awake in this moment, just as it is.
May the awakened heart be extended to all beings.

May the heart of all beings be awakened.
May the suffering of all beings be healed.
May all beings be awake in this moment, just as it is.
May all beings awaken their hearts to one another.

Saturday was an angry day. I noticed it as soon as I got my day started. Usually I try to resist my anger—believing the thought that it is somehow “bad” or makes me a bad person. For whatever reason, on Saturday I saw anger as my path and I devoted my day to experiencing my anger for what it truly was.

I felt anger at life for not being what I want. I felt anger at the people around me for not being what I want. I felt anger at myself for not being what I want. I felt anger that I was getting my day started so late. I felt anger at my meditation timer for interrupting me in the middle of believing my thoughts. I felt anger at the traffic that stood between me and enjoying snowboarding. i felt anger at the broken hot chocolate machine.

What was this anger? Straight-mouthed silent seething. Exasperated aspiration of air through one unstuffed nostril. Tightening in the stomach. Tension in the muscles. A glaring stare that dares whatever I’m looking at to defy me. A conditioned response to believe that violence against inanimates will remove the object of anger. Shallowed breathing. Fear that I will never get what I want. The believed thought that I should get what I want.

From this perspective, the anger seems laughable. It softens – becomes malleable. By entering into the experience of anger instead avoiding it, the believed thoughts surrounding the anger can be recognized as just that – thoughts. They have no reality. I discover I can have a angry day without blowing up at people, being standoffish, or any of the other strategies I’ve developed to protect against my anger.

Of course, next time I’m angry i will have to go through the very same exercise and learn all these things again. That’s why it’s called “Practice”—you have to do it repeatedly to get good at it. Next time though, it will be easier to awaken to the opportunity for practice. It will be easier to label my believed thoughts. Easier to reside in the anger.

Most of all, easier to laugh at my self.