Hope, Dreams, Humility, Gratitude and Patience

What do all of these words have to do with each other? They are all essential ingredients for the recipe of daily life. I often find when just one of them is missing, things tend to slide out of alignment.

Hope we need for encouragement. No matter how things look, but especially on those dark days, we need to hope for the best. We hope for ourselves, but also for others —for all of humanity. There is still hope that we as a species can get it together and realize we are not in this alone. To this aim, the individual contribution is essential.

Dreams we need to show us the way. They illumine our aspirations and goals. They are the distant images of all that we can be. We need to believe in ourselves and our dreams, trust in the universal energy, and dare to achieve great things. Yet these great achievements are not about reaching some goal so that we can proudly strut around and say: “Look at me. I’ve done great things.” No, for me these remarkable achievements are to be expected — a wonderful, but also logical fulfillment of each person’s purpose in life.

Which brings me to humility. Occasionally I do something really well and feel exquisite happiness. Without humility, this joy would transform into self-complacency. I need to remain alert, always do my best, believe in myself but know there is always room for improvement. I want to remember that a job well done is simply part of my destiny.

It’s okay to feel happiness or enjoy praise — in moderation. Last year I had a good example of that. I was well-prepared for a concert, and it really went over well. A couple of months later, I gave another concert. Riding on the success and good feelings from the previous one, I didn’t have my heart in it as much. It was more like going through the motions and expecting the audience to react the same as the previous audience. The energy was lacking, afterwards I was dissatisfied, and then it became clear to me: Every concert is a new experience. Each time I need to be centered, put my whole heart into it, and be humble. I cannot assume that it will go over well, just because it did once. That was a valuable lesson.

These valuable lessons are cause for gratitude. I am grateful for everything I learn, for each step I can take. Even if the price seems to be exorbitant, the results are also impressive. When gratitude is lacking, insatiability can run rampant. We get caught up in wanting more, bigger, and better, and lose touch with where we came from and what it’s all about.

Sometimes the key to progress and success is simple patience. To be patient with one’s self and the course of things is necessary at times. When I trust that I am doing my best — without burning the candle at both ends — that gives me confidence to trust that all is well. All is as it should be. I do what I can, and the rest is up to higher power, the universe, and time. All good things will come with time.
Don’t even think for a minute that I’m writing this because I think I know everything and have the answers. Although, now that I write that, I do have the answers and knowledge. But that doesn’t always help. Doubt and impatience still manage to rise up at times and the confidence, trust, hope and dreams seem to disintegrate before my eyes.

During the past week I have experienced how essential it is to (re)connect with hope. When I start to slip down into that dark space, or if I’ve been there for a while, I need to seek the light — even if it means crawling on my hands and knees to get there. Or it means admitting great sorrow about the plight of an individual or the masses, and nevertheless going out into the world and being open to receive guidance. My experience at the Buddhist Monastery was a wonderful illustration of what can happen when I open up, rather than hide with my sadness in solitude.

For today, I wish that all of us will find the appropriate proportions of each of these ingredients to mix for a fulfilling day. Yes, I am humble today. I don’t make this wish for a whole life, just for this day. One day on which everything fits together is precious. Do your best, but be patient and know that time is an element of every success. Be resourceful and creative, and trust that the universe will be equally creative and bring you opportunities you’d never imagined.

It can be helpful just to let go of a mindset. Open up to new possibilities, new ways of relating to life, situations and other people. The rules and patterns we absorbed from the moment we were born do not have to determine our path. The magic of being human is that we can reflect, think logically and consciously make changes! That is a miracle.

Fairytale of hope

Today I feel more hopeful than I have in a long time. You know — that real, true, energizing sense of hope.

This morning I drove to the Buddhist Monastery. I got just a tiny bit lost driving there, as it was only my second visit. The first time someone else had driven, so I didn’t really pay attention how to get there. Now I know.

It was a beautiful, warm, sunny day. I parked the car and decided to walk up the grassy hill towards the Buddha shrine. Two monks were walking the path around it, talking, so I continued past, up the hill, on a footpath through a field of wildflowers, not wanting to disturb them. For some reason, I felt lucky passing them. Last time we hadn’t seen any monks. At the top, I surveyed the beautiful landscape. There are rolling green hills, bright green trees, and blue-grey mountains capped with snow in the distance. Behind all of that was the bright blue sky with some fluffy cotton ball clouds. I stood there for a while, breathing, taking in the energy, and enjoying the effect of nature all around me.

Then I walked back down. The two monks were still walking. I had an urge to greet them and ask if I could walk a few times around the Buddha with them, but I was too shy, and afraid I would cry. As I approached them, the younger of the two greeted me with a friendly smile. He asked where I was from and told me a bit about the monastery. I asked if I could walk with him a bit, and he said, “Of course.” His older companion walked silently a few steps behind us. He spoke a bit, then I burst into tears, apologized, and told him I was there to pray for a very sick child. He took my hand and told me not to worry. He said they will pray for him, and asked me the boy’s name.

We circled around the Buddha several times, and then I felt calm and thanked him for walking with me. He shook my hand. His older companion bowed to me and I bowed back. Then I walked down, peacefully, to the meditation room.

I walked into the building, took off my shoes, and walked up the wooden stairs to a large room. There are pictures of various Lamas adorning the wall behind the altar. To the right and left of it are two tables with several tea lights burning, and a large golden Buddha statue almost as large as I am presides on the right hand side. In front of the altar are two low tables on either side, decorated with flowers and other ornaments, and then several pillows in a row behind them on the floor. The monks probably sit or kneel on them when they meditate. Brown wicker chairs with burgundy pillows line the other three sides of the room. I sat in a chair at the back of the room and took in the beauty of it. Then I closed my eyes and meditated.

After a while, that monk came into the room. He sat down next to me and showed me a red silky cotton band with a knot in the middle. He said I could have it to meditate. He gestured how to use it, but I misunderstood him, so he gently took it out of my hand and then tied it around my wrist. Then again, he told me not to worry. They will pray. He smiled, touched my cheek, and was gone.

I stayed in the room a while longer. Gradually a sense of peace began to flow through my body, filling me up. I felt light and peace within me. Shortly thereafter I left. Again I took a slight detour, but I basically knew where I was. I drove past a very interesting house, with paintings painted on the outside. They almost covered two whole sides of the house. There were bright objects in the garden. It really looked like someone has a fun place to live.

Eventually I made it to the lake, which borders on a large town. After walking around there for a while, enjoying the view of the water, the houses in the distance, boats, and lots of ducks swimming around, I walked a couple of blocks into town and stopped for a cup of coffee and a piece of apple strudel. It felt so good to be quiet, among people but only observing.

There was still an hour left on the parking meter, and I happened to walk by a museum that I’d read about just a few days earlier. I walked inside. The first installation is a carousel. It’s an old ride from an amusement park. There are two-seater cups which you sit in, and pull the bar down. There’s a round umbrella roof over each one. The visitor can get on it, and go for a ride. It is extremely slow, so one round takes approximately 13 minutes. All kinds of things go through one’s head during that time. There were only 4 other people there (a family). Everyone was very quiet. When they spoke, then only in whispers.

After looking at the brochure for a few minutes, I sat back to enjoy the ride. It was a strange sensation. After a while, it was as if I was simply drifting off in space, off on a tangent from the rest of the planet, in this hushed room in the middle of nowhere. The only noise was the quiet humming of the machinery. Just letting go, sitting back, letting my feet dangle and existing was very relaxing. There were three other installations, but the carousel was my favorite.

A few years ago, His Holiness the Dalai Lama recommended (among other things) to go somewhere you’ve never been once a year. I took that advice to heart, and do it more than once a year. Sometimes I go somewhere new emotionally, in an otherwise familiar situation. Today was like stepping into a little fairytale. I’ve told you the story in detail, and hope that you will be encouraged to have your own fairytale once in a while.

Take a few hours, or a whole day, plan it a bit, but be open and let your feet lead you. Anybody can do this. Whether you are actively bulimic, in recovery, have some other eating disorder, or none at all, you are invited to have a fairytale hour or day — or anything in between. My plans for today were changed on me yesterday, so I used the unexpected window for a spiritual experience and adventure. My only real plan was to go to the monastery and pray, and then go to the lake.

Now I’m home again, centered and in the present. Right now. And right now everything is as it should be. I focus on what is, letting go of fears about the future — whether immediate or long-term. None of that matters now.