Walking with the Dharma and Kamala

Posted on by Natasha Salvo

There’s something that happens when I walk in nature with the dharma and camera at the ready. The world opens up to my senses. More to the point, my senses open up to the world. It’s like an invitation for seeing and sensing the poignant beauty all around, without my questioning mind getting in the way. And the magical manifestations that arise before me time and again continue to astound.

And so it was the that I went for a long walk with Roshi Joan Halifax, who was speaking on engaged Buddhism by way of encouragement for writing post cards to voters registered in swing states. With death as one of her biggest teachers, she points the way toward Bright Faith in the basic goodness of all beings, including ourselves, when we experience doubt in whatever form it arises. And right on queue, spread out before me on the pine needle floor, a ray of sunlight cast its brilliance on the exposed roots of a tree as it held its ground.

Her eloquence around meeting others with differing opinions in Harmony and Respect pointed to the middle way between extremes as a tiny leaf between two opposing giants drew my attention. I actually really do want to know how others feel and not demonize them, as we’ve been so trained in our liberal bubble to do of late.

And so it was with some dismay that I watched the debate and saw our beloved Kamala stooping to goading the man, rather than going higher, per Michelle. While she spoke to the issues with credible directness and told America how she plans to take care of us, she did so in between grimaces and a dismissiveness that I didn’t appreciate. Of course, I give her tons of credit for having come as far as she has in such a short period of time, but I expected more. I was frankly looking for her to project a little more of the beautiful lotus that she is. (Kamala means lotus in Sanskrit, another name for the goddess Lakshmi.)

And then I learned of all the negative ads that her campaign ran before the debate. Having given fifty dollars for the first time in my life to a political candidate, I’ve since been bombarded with requests for more, More, MORE! I get that this is a crucial election on every level, but this is why I hate politics. It’s a dirty game of power play that I want no part of. Arrrggghhh! Why does it have to be so complicated?

The next day’s walk with Nathan Glyde’s dharma talk was equally enlightening, which brought together the Buddha’s perspective on the Two Sorts of Thinking—the kind that leads to peace, ease, happiness, contentment, and freedom, and the kind that leads to dukkha (suffering)—and the Plutchik’s psychological Wheel of Emotions. The practice on tap is how do we work with our emotions when they arise, without identification, so as to allow more choice in our response? On the two sorts of thinking, “contraction is the felt sense of dukkha,” whereas openness, wide perspective, gentleness, and acceptance are the felt sense of contentment.

Then bam, a log, uprooted and cut off, stopped me in my tracks, and a family of dried, curled-up leaves stood sentinel by the side of the path. For leaves, contraction is the natural order of things, but as my own anthropomorphic, poetic sensibilities kicked in, I saw them as nature’s way of telling me to soften, relax, and open. At which point the mossy smiley face appeared on the path as a reminder of Joy.

The whole-body breathing meditation that followed had me walking and breathing into the eddies and flows of the river of my being, like dusting cobwebs from the corners of my room or under the bed, those hidden places that haven’t been attended to in months. The energy and sense of well-being that flowed through me felt like breeze through the trees of my too-stationary bones and flesh. Then looking up, sunlight shone brilliantly through the canopy like the starlight magic that it is.

Self-doubt, politics, and the swirl of emotions now a dance in my awareness, I felt centered and grateful for all of it: the teachings, my poetic sensibilities, and the hope of Kamala, our next president.

Chant with me: KAAAAA MAAAAA LAAAAA

Not Totality, But Close

Posted on by Natasha Salvo

Yesterday was the total solar eclipse, the astrological event that had people scurrying across the country to get in the Path of Totality. Yes, the pictures looked amazing, and I’m delighted for those who fulfilled a wish to experience it. I kept closer to home, choosing at the last minute to drive to the beach ten minutes down the road where people are known to gather to watch the sunset in warmer weather. For me, it was a social event more than anything on the grassy point in Cape Elizabeth, Maine, and I used it as an opportunity to connect.

As a photographer myself, I chatted up Sean, who was there with his camera and tripod hoping to capture the 96% eclipse. Turns out he had been in the radio business in Massachusetts, back when there were local radio news stations. Now he works for Cintas, the uniform company, and only has time to use his camera when not working 9 – 5 and driving his son to baseball games.

Groups, families, and couples sat on blankets and chairs, bundled in hats and coats, which were insufficient to keep us warm at the water’s edge, despite the earlier temperatures in the sixties. Kids ran around and kicked balls as the moon eased its way across the sun without our notice. I didn’t have glasses, but my neighbor blanket said I could borrow theirs, and to my surprise, I saw that the moon had already begun to cross the path of the sun. Another blanket neighbor had made a camera obscura, which they offered a glance into. A mother with three kids had also made one out of a long tube, which projected a much bigger crescent-shape onto the tube’s round end. The coolest projection of all was through the lens of a colander, which produced dozens of tiny crescents huddled in groups on the blanket below, much like the gathering on the lawn.

At one point, a woman came around offering official sun-gazing glasses, courtesy of NASA, her employer. Gazing directly at the sun is a rare experience in and of itself, and watching our little sister eclipse its mighty parent was a strange juxtaposition. The miniscule eclipsing the G A R G A N T U A N was a powerful metaphor for what’s possible when things are in Right Alignment.

Generosity, kindness, and connection ruled the afternoon in a spirit of open-hearted communion as we all faced the mighty sun with varying degrees of awe, wonder, and perhaps a bit of reverence for the source of light, energy, and life on the planet we all call home. Whether everyone felt the connection that our cosmic neighbors were inviting us into I don’t know, but I felt it. It stirred me into a state of appreciation for being alive at this moment—a state of connected presence.

As I drove home, I took it all with me, back into my solitary life in a box, the one created by the hands and heads of man, the isolated spaces that both protect us and separate us, from nature and from one another—the totality and partiality of being, once again exposed to the light.

The Day Poetry Returned

Posted on by Natasha Salvo

(Click to expand images)

Let me stop using words
to communicate
but rather
images of nature
as seen through these eyes
on a late December day
on a path through the woods
by a pond
where the interconnectedness of all things
is a play—
no audience
no rehearsal
no words—
lichen finding its home
on the bark of a tree
roots descending into earth
in a mighty gesture of contact
decaying leaves
once nascent buds
comingling in the descent
teaching impermanence
emptiness
creating the mere concept of “leaf”
as they arise from conditions
and pass away in their own time
a droplet of rain
clinging
to a tiny red orb
poised for letting go
like a tear.