Thursday, February 19, 2026

Know Thyself

Retirement hasn't just given me time to read new books—it’s given me the space to finally see how they all connect. Lately, I’ve been thinking about the 'gap' between what happens to us and how we choose to respond. It’s the difference between just reacting with our programming and actually living a self-aware life. From Socrates to Quantum Physics, here is what I’m uncovering in my library:
I've been digging deeper into the theme of the self moving through the egocentric, socialized, independent, and integral stages on the way to self-actualization, or--dare I say--enlightenment. Socrates taught us that the path of growth is through a self-examined life, and suggested that an unexamined life is a waste. The aphorism "Know thyself" is a really succinct way of saying it.  Rather than saying, "I have come to know myself," a modern man might talk about having developed a conscience. And developed is the right word. It's not enough to just say that I happen to have a conscience; a self-aware person needs to have spent a lifetime growing it as well. "Composed of two Latin words meaning 'to know' and 'with,' conscience is very close to consciousness." (Rollo May). Conscience is self-knowledge. For many, the conscience is viewed as the little angel sitting on one shoulder, warning us against bad behavior. The little angel acts as an authoritarian conscience, saying to us, "Thou shalt not."  When we live by the "thou shalt not" ethic, we aren't truly living the self-examined life, but, rather, a life constrained by obedience. In this case, our behavior is outward-in directed. The "enlightened conscience" is the antithesis, and it works inward-out as a result of self-awareness. It may feel like a harder path, but May sees this enlightened conscience as a very natural extension of our being. Just as a tree naturally grows toward the light, a person who is on the path of self-awareness naturally comes to know which actions foster their growth and which ones diminish it. You don't need a law to tell you not to poison your own well: If you are aware the well is your drinking water, the "conscience" to keep it clean is automatic. This kind of alignment moves us from the dualism of this physical universe (day vs night, good vs. bad, right vs. wrong) to the unity of all things. Wayne Dyer discussed returning to unity when he wrote, "Once the dichotomies or pairs of opposites are transcended, or at least seen for what they are, they flow in and out of life like the tides."  The ancient Sufi mystic Rumi wrote, in his poem commonly known as 'A Great Wagon,' "Out beyond ideas of rightdoing and wrongdoing, there is a field. I'll meet you there."  To meet another human in that field is to relate to them essence-to-essence, rising above social constructs of right vs wrong, and good vs bad.  Deepak Chopra, (drawing from Vedic philosophy and quantum metaphors) suggests that once you drop the binary labels of right vs wrong, you enter a state of pure potentiality. He likes to relate it to quantum physics which describes how our physical reality behaves at the atomic and subatomic levels, where matter and energy exist as both waves and particles at the same time. Quantum physics shows our world to be probabilistic, rather than deterministic, at its base level. These systems exist in a "superposition," meaning in multiple states or positions simultaneously, until observed. This is pure potentiality.  The quantum physics field of potentiality is the underlying, non-material state of all possibilities where subatomic particles exist in a state of superposition (multiple, simultaneous states) before observation collapses them into a single, definite, physical reality. (Look up the double-slit experiment.) The act of observation/measurement forces a quantum system to "choose" between behaving as a wave or a particle. We are the universe looking at itself.  In this metaphor, our self-awareness is the act of observation that turns a cloud of possibilities into a single, lived action. Awareness (know thy self) leads to the transcendence of ideas of right and wrong, and brings us to a place of infinite choice--a unified field of potentiality. Enlightened conscience serves not as a judge, but as a guide pointing us toward that field of potentiality. Our infinite potential exists in the field of potentiality and is experienced in the gap between stimulus and response, between what the world asks of us, and how we respond to it. Self-awareness is what allows us to pause in that gap. Viktor Frankl called this the last human freedom. We pause, access our internal compass, measure our possible responses, and our field of potentiality collapses into a spontaneous "right" choice. We are the tree growing towards the sun.  Conversely, in a state of authoritarian conscience, the outcome is already collapsed; you do what you're told by the little angel on your shoulder, which was inherited from your ancestors, from your church (or parents' church), and from your tribe. In enlightened conscience, you remain in the "field" of potentiality until you choose the action that most aligns with your integral self.  "Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom." (Frankl). This is response-ability, the power to choose your response rather than just be acted upon by uncontrollable outside forces.  Rollo May would say--for example--that when you are fully aware and living a self-examined life, you don't need to be told not to hurt others--because you recognize the sacredness of humanity (created in God's image). You aren't "being good"; you are being whole. Viktor Frankl’s idea of the "last human freedom" is particularly salient because he developed it while he was held in Auschwitz. He noticed that those whose sense of humanity survived the horrors of the concentration camps were those who could widen the gap between stimulus and response. When the stimulus is extreme suffering, the natural human "thou shalt not" or "I must" (authoritarian conscience) often collapses into despair. But Frankl argued that by accessing that inner space, a person could choose a response based on finding meaning, which is to say, responding to the horror in a higher manner--with integrity and grace.  Frankl’s "meaning" is the observation that collapses the wave into a single, significant reality. You don't just pick a rote response to the world; you pick the one that makes your life's work, your interaction with the world, and/or your service to others, filled with meaning. You pick from a place of self-awareness.  Know thyself. Widen the gap. 

Wednesday, October 21, 2015

Race Report (and musings): Bimbler's Bluff 50k

"50k. Who would have thought?" -- These words bounced around my head for hours on Sunday, October 18, when I was running the Bimbler's Bluff 50k. I find it so interesting that the physical accomplishments I once thought inconceivable, seemingly all of a sudden, have become routine for me. When I first started running--about 6 years ago--I couldn't run a mile. I set my mind to improve and always established new goals after I achieved earlier ones. Once I ran that first mile without stopping, I tried for a mile and a quarter; a mile and a half; two miles... and so on. In late 2010, my base was about 6 miles and my upper limit was around 9 miles. I decided that I would try to run a half marathon in 2011, and figured it would take me most of the year to prepare; however, I discovered the Colchester half marathon in February, and figured that a race wouldn't get closer (or cheaper--$12). Although I didn't feel ready, I decided to go for it. I did no research on the course and didn't realize how challenging it was. Regardless, I ran it in 1:47 and was quite happy with the result. Having achieved that goal so quickly, I decided to train for a marathon--which previously I thought was something I would never, ever do. In October, after training for 18 weeks, I ran the Hartford Marathon in 3:54. I arrived for the race not having any time goal or pace in mind. I found the four hour pacer at mile 6 and decided I would be in front of him. Since then, I've run a number of additional road marathons and improved my PR to 3:28. Despite running marathons, I found running trails to be quite a bit more challenging in terms of endurance. I made a mental note that I wanted to spend a year (at least) focusing on improving my trail running and trail racing, and 2015 became the year--after several years of nursing plantar faciitis. The timing seemed right as my feet felt mostly better after a long, cold and snowy winter wherein my outdoors mileage was pretty low. I decided trail running would be less impact and allow me to continue to heal. Over the course of the 2015 racing season, I've run progressively longer and more challenging trail races; but, even as late as May when I ran half of the Sehgahunda trail marathon/relay, I was telling people, "If I ever decide to run a trail marathon--just shoot me. It's not within my ability and I will suffer greatly." Somewhere in the following weeks though, I decided that maybe--just maybe--I could do it and I signed up for the Nipmuck Trail Marathon. Day one of my 18 week plan happened to coincide with the Goodwin 30k trail race, so I signed up for that too. Goodwin went well, but it was clearly a stretch for me as I struggled a bit towards the end. I had already done the Nipmuck South 14.1, and the Soapstone Mountain 24k, but Goodwin was a bit of a challenge. After Goodwin, I settled into my training plan and spent a LOT of time running on the Nipmuck marathon course over the summer. At times, especially in the heat and humidity, long runs were a total slog. Regardless, I put in the hours, stuck to the plan, and also practiced running fatigued (for example, I ran 20 trail miles on a Sunday, and then the New Haven 20k the next day). During my training runs, several friends suggested I was capable of a 50k. My mind was focused like a laser on Nipmuck--so I put them off by saying, "If the Nipmuck trail marathon goes well for me, I will consider it." I didn't think Nipmuck would go particularly well, but it was my easiest marathon thus far. It was almost too easy. My training clearly paid off. Two days after Nipmuck, I signed up for the Bimblers Bluff 50k. Just like before, never in a million years did I see myself doing a 50k, let alone a trail race. I knew Bimblers would be more challenging, but I never really had any anxiety about it. As far as I was concerned, it was fluff after Nipmuck. I hadn't told too many people I was doing it, and if I fell apart--no big deal. I didn't expect it to fall apart, but I gave myself permission to not worry about it. There was one thing that could be classified as a concern: I ran the Hartford Half Marathon a week after Nipmuck. Would I have recovered sufficiently? Race day arrived and the weather was almost perfect. It was a about 10 degrees colder than Nipmuck, but clear and bright. I started out with pants and a long sleeve shirt. I carried a wind-breaker in case the wind became an issue; but by the first aid station I shed the pants and windbreaker. I would end up wearing the long sleeve shirt all day; but, I pushed the sleeves up and down repeatedly to regulate my temperature. At Nipmuck, the first 12 miles are relatively flat, and they peeled away without me hardly noticing; not so much at Bimbler's. There was a considerable amount of climbing and my climbing muscles were starting to get tired by the half marathon distance, which I think was a carry over from the previous two races. We climbed the bluff right after the first aid station (mile 10ish), and it definitely was a good series of climbs. At points, it was almost hand-over-hand. My girlfriend (Autumn) was my race crew and we planned for her to meet me at the aid station just before the bluff; but we had thought it was the second aid station, when it was the first. So we crossed signals and she wasn't there. It really wasn't a big deal, as all I needed was for someone to take my excess clothes. I gave them to a friend instead. The view from the top of the bluff was spectacular, but I didn't take too much time to enjoy it. Relentless forward progress was my mantra.
I rolled my ankle on my way down from the Bluff and it hurt quite a bit. Someone saw me roll it and begin limping and asked if I was okay. I said, "I rolled my ankle, but I will be fine," of which I really wasn't sure. He said, "Probably won't be the last time you'll roll it today," which kind of gave me motivation to suck it up. I walked a few feet and it started to feel better, so I just kept going. My ankle was sore the remainder of the day, but not incapacitating. The next aid station was at mile 16ish and I still felt good, even though my legs weren't happy about the persistent climbing. Autumn met me there and made sure I fueled and hydrated well. It was out in a field, in the bright sun, and the mood was jovial. As with all of the aid stations, the volunteers were vigilant and addressed me just as soon as I emerged from the woods.
I found it a little harder to get motivated after re-entering the woods; but, soon I was back at it. I don't remember too much between there and the next aid station at mile 23ish. This station was deeper in the woods (compared to the side of the road), and Autumn had to hike in a ways. It was shaded and I quickly started to chill while I was again eating and hydrating. Autumn said I looked quite a bit more tired that the last aid station. Another runner's crew member (husband) said he thought I was starting to move faster. The race is somewhat lollipop shaped, with the loop almost heart shaped. I knew I was not too far from finishing the loop and made it my next goal to find the turn off. I must have let my focus lag, as shortly after leaving the aid station I face-planted hard and banged up my knees. It was almost as painful as the ankle-roll; but, again, I shook it off and kept going. "Pick up your feet Scrivener," became my new mantra. The return leg (the lollipop handle) was mercifully less technical and went by fairly quickly. No doubt I was getting tired, but I could just keep plodding along and get it done. When I passed mile 26, I decided I was in ultra-marathon territory and I was going to do it well, rather than just sort of survive it. I wanted to honor the distance with a solid performance. In the process of running the race, I had conveniently forgotten the race was longer than a 50k, and so I expected the next aid station around mile 28 or 29 (2.5 miles from the finish). When I made mile 30 without seeing the aid station, I decided to try and text Autumn, to warn her I was nearing the end--or so I thought. As I pulled out my phone, I saw a person on the trail trying to take my photo, so I resumed running for the photo op. She indicated that the next aid station was coming up soon. I asked, "How long to the finish?" and she said fewer than 4 miles. What?? 4 miles? When I came into the last aid station, they were super attentive immediately after I emerged from the woods. Autumn was there, and once again made sure I hydrated. The aid station crew tried to entice me to eat, but I had no interest in food at that point. Although I knew the answer, again I asked, "How long to the finish?" 2.5 miles. "Oof." Autumn looked at me and said, "It's no problem for an ultra-marathoner." The aid station people mentioned seeing a bear nearby, so I'm not sure if that or Autumn's words had me tearing down the trail for the last leg. As with the other aid stations, the Gatorade (brought my own and Autumn schlepped it for me) perked me up quite a bit and the last 2.5 miles went quickly. As I started to hear the finish line (you could hear the aid stations and finish before you could see them), it sunk in: I was done. I emerged from the woods, and volunteers were there congratulating me along the last few hundred feet to the finish. Their congratulations meant more to me than any race previously. I raised my hands, fists clenched, in triumph. I did it. The guy who couldn't run a mile just 6 years earlier, who couldn't conceive running a trail marathon 5 months earlier, had just completed a trail 50k (more like 52k... 32.5 miles). What an amazing feeling!! Suddenly, I want to do another, but that will be for next year.

Tuesday, October 6, 2015

Race Report: Nipmuck Trail Marathon

Relentless Forward Progress ― Bryon Powell On Sunday October 4 (2015), I ran the Nipmuck Trail Marathon (26.4 miles), which was my first full trail marathon and my 6th marathon overall. Prior to yesterday, my longest trail race was a 30k (18.6 miles), which--ironically--was on my first day of training for Nipmuck: June 7. At Goodwin, I developed some confidence that I would successfully complete a trail marathon with the right amount of training. Sunday was a great weather day for a race, which was a bit of a surprise given the recent gloomy forecasts. As it turned out, the sky was clear, and the temperatures perfect for running (40s F to start, 50s F to finish), with a slight breeze. We really couldn't have asked for better weather. There was some concern for the condition of the course, given the recent heavy rain and wind, but it turned out the course was in almost pristine condition.
The race starts on Perry Hill Road, just for about one hundred feet, and then turns south onto the single track Nipmuck Trail. I dressed in shorts, a long sleeve shirt, buff, and gloves; but warmed up quickly, to the point that I wondered if I had overdressed. I pushed up my sleeves and exposed my fingers (my gloves are designed to do that) and managed to moderate my body temp and felt better. I felt even better as I approached miles 5 and 6, as the temps seemed cooler in that area of trail.
The run to the mile 6 turnaround was just as described in previous race reports--a conga line. I didn't mind, as the so-called conga line was running a comfortable pace for me, and helped me not overextend myself too early in the race. My goal was to get to mile 12 (the Start/Finish line) strong and fresh, which I did. The first 12 miles peeled away almost without noticing and I was onto the upper half of the race. I remember thinking, "the real race begins now," as I came through the mile 12 aid station. I dumped my long sleeve shirt, gloves and buff on my way through, which turned out to be good decision. I was quite comfortable for the remainder of the race. During training, I was concerned about how the hills would feel in the upper half of the race, as they start immediately after crossing Perry Hill Road. As it turned out, the hills felt fine and I was quite fresh and ready to tackle them. It's a pretty easy 4 mile jaunt to the next aid station (Iron Mine Road), and I found myself daydreaming a bit, which is probably why I face-planted early into the second half of the race. It was a good wake-up call and I worked on refocusing. I wasn't hurt, and didn't need to try my luck a second time. My brain continued to be a bit fuzzy and I noticed myself miscalculating my location on the course. By the time I made Iron Mine, I regained my focus and was eager to push on. The crew at the Iron Mine aid station was comprised of my club-mates from the Willimantic Athletic Club, and they were a welcome sight. I felt fine going into the station, but I made sure to look super perky for their benefit. I didn't want to look anything but strong and happy. As in all of the aid stations, they asked, "How are you feeling?" I replied, "I feel good, and I feel strong," which was the truth. The run from Iron Mine Road to the next aid station/turnaround point (Boston Hollow Road) becomes more hilly and technical. I focused on getting it done, and found myself at the turnaround in what seemed like short order. I even recall looking at my watch about a mile before the turnaround and being surprised I was at mile 18 so soon. I felt no sign of a wall and was enjoying myself immensely. There's some serious climbing in the two miles before the turnaround, and just getting them done seemed to be keeping me focused and not really paying attention to the distance. Approaching the Boston Hollow aid station, you have to climb for a while--then descend some tricky wooden stairs, which feels somewhat sadistic. Climbing them on the return trip isn't any better. Once I made my way into the aid station, one of the volunteers offered to fill my hydration pack. I hesitated, not knowing whether it was low. He said, "You might as well fill it here, as at the next location (a drop), you'll have to bend over." I looked at him, paused for effect, and deadpanned, "That sounds exciting..." His eyes grew wide and he blurted, "That came out wrong!!" We had a good laugh. I loaded up on the potatoes (my favorite) and cookies, sucked on an orange slice, and made my way back up the hill. The climb out of the valley is steep and my heartrate/breathing were very heavy. I managed to get past the steep climbs and descents and began to return to my race pace (I called it my "all-day pace"). Heading south, I encountered many runners desperately seeking the turnaround and even one who was asking everyone, "What is the cutoff? What is the cutoff?" Nobody seemed to remember. Another fellow, about 2 miles from the turnaround, seemed perplexed: "I MUST be getting close." Eh, sort of buddy. Once the trail leveled out to some extend, the trip back to Iron Mine seemed to pass quickly. I made sure to trot in with good posture and tried to look fresh. Volunteer Jack Fulton asked, half kidding, "Back already?" I took it as a compliment. Again my club-mates asked how I was doing and I indicated I felt really good. Jack joked, "I'm sorry it's almost over for you." I love it. After Iron Mine, there's a dirt road hill to climb, and I made sure to run for a bit until out of eyesight for the aid station. I walked the remainder of the hill and settled in for the last 4 miles of the race. I found it strange that I didn't hit a wall or even feel fatigued. Apparently this was one of those races where everything came together. I thought for sure that the last 2-3 miles would be a slog, tripping and falling; but, it went just fine and the miles passed quickly. The last mile is marked on trees in tenths (though some seemed off), and I was pleasantly surprised when the 1 mile marker appeared. My watch was off a little, probably from the tree cover. As I whittled it down to the last quarter of mile, I started to listen for the cheering of the finish area. I also chose my steps carefully, as I didn't want an injury that close to the finish. A couple of people were hanging out just in from the finish and said something along the lines of, "Nice work runner!" Perfect. Approaching the finish line, I heard a cheer go up and people yelling my name. A few friends were waiting, along with my daughter and her boyfriend, which was a welcome sight. It felt amazing to finish the race and to still be strong. Normally after a marathon, I plop face down in grass for a half hour and rest; but, I didn't feel the need this time. My finish of 5 hours and 23 minutes was nearly 2 hour slower than my road marathon PR, but it's to be expected on trails. I was warned that a trail marathon would add at least 1.5 hours to my usual time. What a great day!

Friday, January 4, 2013

What have we been doing all winter?

There comes a time when summer asks what you have been doing all winter. -Unknown January and February can be rough on our mental well-being. It's dark and gloomy (at least here in New England), the trees are barren, and the weather is cold, and often snowy. The holidays are over and nothing distracts from a long winter. Most people find themselves camped out in front of their television from the time they arrive home, after work, until bedtime. I find winter to be a great time to go to bed earlier, and let my body heal from my warmer weather activities. Instead of television, I like to curl up with a book and catch up on my reading. Personally, I'm drawn to self-help or similar non-fiction books, which help me grow as a person. There's no need to neglect our bodies this time of year. Gym memberships are so inexpensive today. I figure I can recoup my $10/month gym membership fee simply by showering at the gym several days a week, thereby saving hot water in my house. And the gym can be a great mood boost. I've rarely walked out of the gym in the same or worse mood as I entered. Winter is also a great time to try something new, such as Yoga, or maybe an art class. Consider joining a club, or getting together with friends on a regular basis. It's also a great time to volunteer in the community. There are so many opportunities to get out of the house, and touch someone else's life. The warmer weather will return soon enough. What will we have done with the winter?

Sunday, April 17, 2011

The Power of Habit

“Habit is stronger than reason.” -George Santayana

Whenever I travel out of town in the morning (e.g. to attend a meeting or a class), I like to stop at a local bagel place to order my favorite sandwich for the road: egg and tomato slices on a spinach-garlic bagel. (Yum!). The restaurant has a practice of slicing their sandwiches in half, which makes it very difficult to eat with one hand while driving. It often ends up in my lap.

I usually ask the preparer to forgo the cutting of the sandwich, if possible. It's almost never possible. I estimate, despite my requests, they still manage to cut my sandwich 29 out of 30 times. It's not the end of the world and I don't complain. In fact, it's somewhat amusing and I usually have a good laugh with the server.

Why is it so hard? Habit. They sell hundreds of sandwiches a day, and I have never heard anyone else ask for it to not be cut. Statistically, there must be a few more like me; however, the vast majority of the sandwiches are cut, and the servers have a strong habit in place. The habit is so strong that the server's hands cut my sandwich before their awareness realizes what happened.

The servers always seem mystified that they can't seem to "remember" to not cut my sandwich.

Obviously, this blog isn't about bagels or sandwiches.

It's about the power of habit.

Aristotle taught that we are what we repeatedly do. We can use this power of habit to achieve great things in our lives.

I've found that it only takes a few weeks for the early stages of habit to develop. Is there a habit that you would like to cultivate (i.e. meditation, exercise, healthy eating, rising at a certain hour, etc)? Make yourself do it for a few weeks (probably against the will of your old habits) and you'll start to see a change.

Most people are intimidated or disheartened during the first few weeks of forming a new habit and give up. Successful people are those that persevere just a little longer.

I gave up eating sweets last year. I'm not really sure when it happened, but I think it was sometime over the Summer. I challenged myself to go for a week with no sweets. Then two. Then three. Why? I had a terrible addiction (habit) to sugar. Now, I don't crave it at all. I'll probably allow myself some sweet stuff this year, but--honestly--the non-sweets habit is getting hard to overcome. I have a hard time bringing myself to eat sweets now.

Similarly, I have been rising at 6:00 AM since Junior High School. Very rarely do I wake to the alarm clock. Most days, I awake just before it's programmed to alarm. Yet, we go through a time-change twice a year. How is this possible? Why isn't my internal alarm clock off by an hour for half of the year? Answer: it only takes a few days for me to get on the new schedule, and then habit takes over once again.

The power of habit is an extremely powerful tool that you can use to your benefit. Take advantage of it!

“Good habits, once established are just as hard to break as are bad habits” - Robert Puller

Saturday, February 19, 2011

Romance the Present Moment!

"Do not dwell in the past, do not dream of the future, concentrate the mind on the present moment." -Buddha

So much has been written about mindfulness and presence, it's hard to say or add anything new. For the few of you who are not familiar with the concept, mindfulness is a spiritual practice that emphasizes being fully engaged with the present moment at all times. The concept suggests that the root of most suffering is dwelling on the past or anxiety about the future--and happiness is rooted in the present moment.

One thing that seems to be lacking in much of the mindfulness literature and common practice is the role of joy and romance. Mindfulness is not a burden or a hardship; it is breath of fresh air!

Yet, mindfulness is a practice, much like a relationship between two people. Both take a lifetime to develop...and both require active engagement.

Have you seen degrees of romance in relationships? Some relationships are hollow shells of what they once were...the couple essentially has become roommates--going through the motions. And other relationships are beautiful until the end. We've all seen a cute elderly couple who appear to be just as in love as when they first met.

Our relationship with the present moment has the same potential: hollow shell, or deep love until the end. The difference is continued romance.

Romance the present moment. Fall in love with what is!

Saturday, January 15, 2011

Finding Meaning in the Now

"Everything can be taken from a man or a woman but one thing: the last of human freedoms to choose one's attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one's own way." -Viktor E. Frankl


Some have suggested that man's highest drive is pleasure or power, and all that he does is attributed to one of these motivations. We are tempted to adopt this psychology when we see excesses of pleasure-seeking or power-grabbing in our society.

Viktor Frankl , a famous Psychotherapist and author of "Man's Search for Meaning," suggested man's highest drive is to find meaning in life. He also explained that meaning-frustrated people default to pleasure-seeking or power-seeking to find happiness.

Contrary to the pleasure or power ideas, Frankl suggested meaning and happiness cannot be found for the seeking, but rather are a by-product of three activities:

Deeply experiencing a person or a thing.
Doing a work/creating something of lasting value (occupation, avocation, etc).
Choosing one's attitude amidst inescapable suffering.

He referred to these as the three meaning values: experiential, creational, and attitudinal.

What is remarkable is that these three activities are based in the present, and therefore these are values of the Now. To deeply experience someone, we must be fully present with them. To create something of lasting value, we must be present with our work. To choose our attitude while in pain, we must be present with our pain.

If we are present with a person, a work, or our pain, we will not identify with our egoic mind. We will not dwell on the past or fantasize about a better future. And in so doing, we stumble upon happiness.

"For success, like happiness, cannot be pursued; it must ensue, and it only does so as the unintended side-effect of one's personal dedication to a cause greater than oneself or as the by-product of one's surrender to a person other than oneself. Happiness must happen, and the same holds for success: you have to let it happen by not caring about it." -Viktor Frankl

Saturday, January 1, 2011

Intentions

As is the custom in our society, I've been asked several times if I have made any resolutions for the New Year. Actually, I have not. No, I'm not perfect--far from it--and yes there are things I would like to improve on in my life. So why no resolutions?

I have found that intentions are so much more powerful than resolutions. Sure, it sounds like semantics; I assure you it is not. Let's take a look.

Resolutions come from a place of recognizing that there is something about me that I do not like, and I should change. Resolutions do not come from a place of acceptance of what is, but rather from a place of making a judgement of what should be. It is me making a judgement, creating conflict inside of myself.

On the other hand, intentions are born out of a desire to do something because I want to do it. Intentions are congruous with who I am on the inside and what I value and therefore do not create conflict. Value shifts almost always precede manifestation.

For example, I valued a healthy lifestyle long before it manifested in my life. It was something kept trying to change with shoulds. I should exercise. I should lose weight. Finally, I released the shoulds and just said, "You know, I intend to run. I want to run. Being a runner is on my 'bucket list.' Why not start now?" And I did.

I didn't set any should barriers for myself. I just went for a run. I liked how it made me feel and I did it again. And again. And I said, "I wonder how far I can run today? I wonder if I can go a little further?" And I did. "I intend to run today," became my self-talk. Not, "I should run today." I'd never get anywhere with that sort of self-talk.

And you know, when you intend to do something today, and you don't make it happen, there's no judgement. But, if you should do something, and don't, man the judgement is harsh. And it's like getting behind on studying. Eventually, you try to cram (which doesn't work) or just give up.

Do you see the difference?

What do you intend to do this year?

I intend to run a half-marathon. And if I don't, no problem.

I probably will.

Be kind to yourself!

Namaste.

Marc

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

The Happiness Catalyst

What happens when 10 authors who have never met each other come together via a social medium like Twitter and collaborate on creating a free e-book? You end up with a phenomenal book like The Happiness Catalyst.

The Happiness Catalyst is the brainchild of Dave Ursillo who recruited authors via social media site Twitter to submit original works with the intention of encouraging the reader to re-engage their communities and find happiness in the process.


Download your copy here:

Free e-book: The Happiness Catalyst

Read more about the genesis of this book:

The Happiness Catalyst: Reconnecting with Community

Monday, October 4, 2010

The Value of a Day

Every person in this life has something to teach me — and as soon as I accept that, I open myself to truly listening. --Catherine Doucette



On Saturday night, I was standing outside of a church hall, waiting for people to come to an event I planned. I'm one of the coordinators for a contra dance in Eastern Connecticut. (Contra dancing is a form of dance that was popular in New England in the 18th century, and it evolved from early English and French country dance forms.)

While standing in the parking area, one of the old timers heard me marvel about how quickly the Summer had passed. I mused out loud about how it seemed impossible that we could be entering into a new dance season so soon (We take the Summer off from dancing). It seemed like only days before that we finished the last season, when in fact, it was months since we last danced.

I asked him why life seems to accelerate as we grow older--rhetorically, not really expecting a substantial or valuable answer. His response floored me. He said, "When you were one year old, a day was a significant part of your lifetime. Today, a day is but a small fraction of a much longer lifetime, and in contrast--it seems to move very quickly."

How profound.

I was reminded to listen to everyone, as I never know when someone might offer something wise. I will cherish his profundity for many years to come.

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Balance

I've had a desire, over the years, to learn to exercise through running. It's never seemed to work for me, despite repeated attempts. When I ran, I was barely able to go a half mile with out losing control of my breathing. I would run a little ways, until my breathing went out of control, and then I would need to walk for a while. I repeated this pattern frequently.

I gave up trying to run about five years ago, when a friend stopped exercising with me due to a knee injury. In the subsequent years, I moved from a physically demanding job to working behind a desk. I gained some weight and generally felt pretty lousy about my health. Determined to get back in shape, I started attending Yoga classes this past November.

Yoga is a good fit for me and I attend class frequently. In the process, I have practiced some breath-work. As Spring came around this year, I decided to give running another attempt. Much to my surprise, I didn't seem to have any problems with control of my breathing during my runs. Over the Summer months, I went from running 1.5 miles, to 3 miles, and settled into a 4.5 mile routine for quite some time. Just recently, I've increased to a 6 mile run, several times a week.

From a breath perspective, I don't seem to have any distance barriers in my running. I certainly have some speed barriers; but, these barriers will be overcome gradually. From a muscular-skeletal standpoint, increased distance certainly takes its toll on my legs, but they are strengthening.

The most exciting developments, from my running, is my increased health. I've lost over 20 pounds and recorded a significant drop in my pulse and blood pressure. In fact, I was recently taken off of blood pressure medications for the first time in 15 years!

As a whole being, we must not neglect any part of our self. Yoga has taught me a great deal about balance. We come from an unseen singular place and live in a seen, dualistic world; therefore, we require balance. I'm enjoying this journey of developing my balance.

Monday, April 26, 2010

The End of Suffering

"Does God exist? The Buddhist is likely to answer,'It really doesn't matter one way or another since the human predicament remains the same in either case. Our job is to dispel illusion and alleviate suffering.'" - Richard Hooper


It probably comes as no surprise when I suggest the world is full of suffering. Just about any exposure to the daily news reveals countless stories of tragedy and horror. We find there are millions of people living in squalid conditions, going hungry, and suffering from physical traumas or disease.

Most faith traditions, as well as many secular relief organizations, actively minister to those who are physically suffering in the far reaches of the world. This is, of course, entirely appropriate and honorable. All of us would do well to support these efforts in any manner possible.

Yet, might I also suggest that there is a great deal of suffering among the wealthiest and most successful people of the world? In fact, there is suffering among our friends, families, and neighbors. There is suffering in our own hearts.

Our job is to alleviate suffering. Yes, sending money to humanitarian relief organizations is a wonderful idea; however, it does not end suffering. Sending money simply provides temporary physical relief, and suffering continues. Why?

According to some Eastern traditions, there are five main causes of suffering:

1. "Not knowing your true identity."
2. "Clinging to the idea of permanence in in a world that is inherently impermanent."
3. "Fear of change."
4. Identifying with the socially induced hallucination called the ego."
5. "Fear of death."
(Deepak Chopra)

Isn't this interesting? Wouldn't you have expected a list like this?

1. Bigotry
2. War
3. Famine
4. Greed
5. Lack of education

When I hear of organized secular or religious groups striving to end suffering, I think of people actively engaging the issues on my second list. Yet, these Eastern faith traditions teach us that physical suffering is secondary to spiritual suffering--represented by the first list. In other words, the second list represents symptoms of suffering, whereas the first list represents root causes.

Eastern faith traditions suggest our job is to dispel illusion and alleviate suffering--in our own hearts. We are called to transcend space, time, and cause-and-effect by coming to realize our core consciousness is immortal (D.Chopra).

By recognizing that we have all come into this physical world from the same Source and that we are all connected on the level of our highest consciousness, we begin to value new things: love, peace, and fulfilled meaning--to name a few. And in inculcating these new values, we become the change we want to see in the world.

Indeed, suffering must end. It must end in our hearts.

"Everyone thinks of changing the world, but no one thinks of changing himself." - Leo Tolstoy

Saturday, April 10, 2010

To Observe Without Evaluating

"I don't fear heresy anymore, I fear hypocrisy all the more."-Dezi Baker.

Many people go through a radical or fundamentalist stage in their life, whether religion or lifestyle. Most of us know people who spend all of their time at church, the gym, or something similar. Usually this occurs when we're relatively young and idealistic, but certainly can take place at any stage in life. Sometimes it's the result of some significant emotional event, e.g. cancer, loss of a loved one, etc..

I'm no exception. The peak of my fundamentalism was in my late teens/early twenties--during a time when I lived in a foreign country for two years. My life has been a steady journey away from fundamentalism since. This is not to say that I have no faith. To the contrary, I have grown greatly in faith; I have simply shed religion.

One of the things that seems to often accompany the radical or fundamentalist stage is being judgmental (evaluating). It's natural to think less of others when we're so committed to a creed or doctrine, when they're not on the same path. After the radicalism begins to fade (often with age), the evaluation habit lingers, and does not seem to abate as quickly. It is here that hypocrisy begins to creep into our lives.

It is my intention to only judge myself, with love and grace. I intend to not evaluate you, your life, or your cause as either good or bad. I will not march in your parade, save to promote your unalienable right to be self-directing. It is you who gets to choose your own path. I honor the spirit that is within you. Namaste.

"To observe without evaluating is the highest form of intelligence."~Jiddu Krishnamurti

Sunday, February 28, 2010

Wishing Life Away


"I don't want to get to the end of my life and find that I have just lived..." -Diane Ackerman

Though I cherish silence and solitude, I also really enjoy deep and meaningful conversations with pensive people. Yesterday, I had lunch with a dear friend. He and I always speak of many things, including our kids, current love interests, and the joy of experiencing the seasons of our lives.

My workplace was the subject of a large part of our conversation. I shared that my supervisor is set to retire at the end of March and his position will probably remain vacant for the foreseeable future as a cost-saving measure during this difficult economy. We spoke of the opportunities and difficulties that are likely to develop for me in the intervening time, until the position is filled.

Compassionately, my friend expressed a hope for me that the time would go by very quickly. I responded immediately, almost without thinking, "No, I don't hope for it to go quickly; but, rather that every moment is meaningful and without any major catastrophes." He seemed a little taken aback for a moment, before consenting.

I'm sure my friend meant well and I feel bad for not just receiving his compassion, without the necessity of a response. Though it's important for me to own my response, and to think before I speak, I also think my consciousness reflexively rejected his suggestion, just as the body rejects poison with vomiting. Wishing for time to go quickly during difficulty is a common practice, but one that I've grown to reject vehemently.

Life is full of difficulty and if we wish every period of discomfort away--life will get away from us. Wishing time away is a form of slumber. We drift off into the past or dream of the future, and numb the present pain--not altogether unlike Rip Van Winkle, who escaped his nagging wife by sleeping for twenty years.

I often encounter people who are wishing their lives away. Do you see it too? A quick look at various Facebook statuses reveals people who "...cant wait for 5:00 PM," so they can leave work, or people who wish the weekend was closer. Wednesday is oft celebrated as "hump day," or the day halfway to the weekend. While in line at the grocery store, I notice the cashiers often commiserate the boredom of their work by exchanging the countdown to their parole at the end of their shifts. I'm even more dismayed by the people who are eager to leave work in order that they may watch some television show.

Despite being one of the richest nations in the world, we seem to be entirely unhappy as a people and so eager to escape. Yet, people living in squalid conditions in third world countries are often reported to be quite content and generally seem happy. Why is this? Although there are many likely factors, I think our Christian heritage plays a large part. We see ourselves as weary travelers treading through the muck of this fallen world, in the hopes of reaching some heavenly destination at the end of our journey.

From the little I know about Buddhism, the religion seems to discourage longing for some pie in the sky afterlife and rather emphasizes the potential of each moment. We Christians would do well to learn a few things from the Buddhists. Buddhism seems to encourage adherents to be fully present in their suffering and to examine the thought processes that contribute to the suffering and pain, to rise above these thoughts, and to experience the highest life has to offer--in the now. I like this approach.

As for me, I choose to recognize that every moment is built upon a field of infinite possibilities. Though the field may sometimes be cold or dark, I will not lay down and sleep, but rather will gaze upon the stars in sheer amazement. In many other instances, the field is a way-point for people to come in and out of our lives. We can meet them there--out beyond ideas of right and wrong--and share the joy being alive.

"Every man's life ends the same way. It is only the details of how he lived..." -Ernest Hemingway

Monday, February 15, 2010

Finding and Sharing Happiness

"The source of happiness is inside of you." -Randall Krause

One of my favorite things to say is, "We don't find happiness in relationships; rather, we share happiness in relationships," which is to say that we must have discovered the fountain of our own happiness before we bathe in the fountain of someone else.

Down through the ages so much has been written about finding happiness, and the consensus seems to be that enduring happiness cannot be found in the arms of another person. Why then, does the myth of finding happiness in a relationship persist? Maybe it's that we've all found moments of bliss in the arms of another; or, maybe there has been some confusion. Look at what one thinker has to say about the subject:

"There is only one happiness in life: to love and be loved." -George Sand

On the surface, this seems to suggest that happiness CAN be found in a relationship. We find the contrary on closer inspection. The first thing we must do for happiness is GIVE love to others. Most of the great spiritual traditions inform us that true love gives without any thought of return, and these same traditions also suggest that love will always return to the giver, in some form.

Viktor Frankl taught us that happiness and meaning in life cannot be pursued; it must ensue as the by-product of creating, experiencing, and choosing. In other words, as a by-product of LIVING an active life. What kind of activity? Denis Waitley said, "Happiness is the spiritual experience of living every minute with love, grace and gratitude." Neither men suggest we find happiness by seeking love, but rather living in a state wherein love is the fiber of our very being. Waitley seems to suggest all that we do and say must originate in love, which agrees with the Buddha: "One who values happiness for himself but creates anxiety for others is confused." We create happiness for others by loving them in a state of constant grace, seasoned with gratitude.

Personally, I've come to the conclusion that I must be well-established in my own happiness long before I am able to sustain an enduring relationship. This makes sense, right? Only when I'm happy can I share it with another person. I must possess something before it can be shared with another.

The other person in my life must be well-established in her own happiness too. I cannot be the source of happiness for her, nor can she for me. Anything else would be a co-dependency.

Now, this isn't to say that I can be satisfied in a relationship with just anyone. Some people are more compatible than others and I intend to spend the remainder of my days with someone who is compatible. This will make the sharing of our synergistic happiness easier.

So the take-home lesson is to find your own place of happiness independent of another person. If you're single, seek someone who is already quite happy, and compatible with you. If you're in a relationship, the best thing you can do is to gently nudge them down their own path of happiness and give love in great abundance.

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

Happiness Amidst Loss

"True happiness comes in moments when you feel right there, completely present." ~Pema Chödrön.

All of us will suffer loss in our lifetime, whether from death, divorce, or distance of a loved one. The loss of someone we love, by whatever cause, is difficult to bear. In fact, we've all observed people who haven’t borne their loss very well and never completely recovered. It is a sad thing to see.

People come in and out of our lives; it is part of the human condition: pleasure and pain; love and hate; life and death. These are all common dualities in this physical world and to a degree--these dualities are foreign to our very spiritual nature, which comes from a world of oneness. The question is… how do we cope with losses associated with this physical world from a spiritual perspective? How do we deal with the pain in a spiritual manner?

First, we must accept that there is no constructive escape. Any measure of escape will just delay or destroy the healing process. In attempting to escape our pain, we stop growing. When we’re not growing, we’re perishing—a slow, painful death. Thus, many find destructive ways to numb their senses: excess sleep, television, internet or other media, alcohol, drugs, and shallow relationships.

This is all very relevant for me, as I went through a loss recently. A cherished romantic relationship ended in October of 2008. I went through the usual phases of grief: shock, denial, bargaining, guilt, anger, and depression. I’m moving into acceptance, though I have occasional relapses into one phase or another.

In moving into acceptance, one thing that I have learned is the value of mindfulness, which is being fully present with your current circumstances. As Pema Chödrön has said, "True happiness comes in moments when you feel right there, completely present." I have also come to learn that happiness is not something we find in a relationship, but rather is something we share in a relationship.

Although it’s almost cliché, I have learned that happiness is not some destination off in the distance, but rather the daily journey. The journey is now and not some far off place, time, or person. The journey is today, even in this very moment. And if I am constantly trying to escape this moment, there is no happiness. To live fully in each moment, to engage life completely, to smell the scents around you, to hear the richness of the sounds of the universe in motion, to feel the textures beneath your hands and feet: this is where we find happiness.

I love the person with whom I was in a relationship. I love her as intensely today as I did when we were together; but, we’re not together any longer and there is distance between us. In fact, we don’t have much contact. She’s not in my present, and there’s absolutely nothing I can do about it—except continue to love her from a distance, not with hope of reconciliation--but, rather with compassion for both of us. I can accept our separation as permanent, and yet—I can love her anyway.

I don’t need to escape from my love for her; nor do I need to escape the pain of separation. I can be present with all of my emotions, and be compassionate towards my own self in the process. I can be present with my current circumstances as a single person and be completely happy with this journey that I am on. Life is a wonderful journey that so many lose far too early. I am grateful for the time I have here on this earth and resolve to fully engage this world I am in. Won’t you join me?

"The aim of life is to live, and to live means to be aware, joyously, drunkenly, serenely, divinely aware." --Henry Miller

Sunday, January 24, 2010

Enlightenment

If I could define enlightenment briefly I would say it is the quiet acceptance of what is. -Wayne Dyer

If there is any one thing that I have learned with age, it is that most frustration is borne of dwelling on things over which we have little or no control. We feel as if we're banging our head against the wall and nothing is changing. Why does this occur?

We tend to have expectations of other people, yet we usually have no control over them. When I find myself frustrated, my first question to myself is, "What were my expectations here?" Expectations are what we think "should be." My next question is, "How can I release my expectations?" For if I have no control over the situation, it does me no good to dwell on the outcome.

Wayne Dyer defined enlightenment as the acceptance of "what is." The opposite of "what is" is "what should be," which is a judgment of sorts. I have decided that the current situation is unacceptable and that I have a better way, which is ego trying to have some control.

I hear "should be" often from my kids, my co-workers, and from people in the street:

"Our employer should pay us more money."

"The government should provide free health care."

"My parents should give me what I want."

"'They' should do something about this!" (Who are "They?")

"Should be" is just another way of saying, "I deserve" something. In fact, if I deserve it, I demand it. And if I don't have my demands met, I will throw a tantrum. Frustration.

In a more perfect world, all of our wants would be fulfilled and there would be no lack; however, as long as we're in this physical world, that will never be fully realized.

Recognizing that we will not have all of the desires of our ego is a step toward enlightenment. We can let go of our desires and judgments and work on acceptance. As the Rolling Stones said,

You can't always get what you want
But if you try sometimes you might find
You get what you need


Acceptance does not mean we're giving up; to the contrary, we can define those areas over which we do have control (our attitude and behavior) and focus our energies there. Acceptance is surrender without giving up. We surrender to a more loving way. We accept the world is already as it should be, and we change how we see and respond to the world.

The wonderful thing is that as more people arrive at acceptance and work on changing how they see and respond to the world, the world changes. This is why Gandhi instructed us to be the change we want to see in the world.

When we live in "should be," we delay happiness until our demands are met. In acceptance, all is already as it should be. Acceptance is a wonderful place to dwell, and we find happiness there.

Saturday, January 23, 2010

Can Simplicity and Clutter Co-Exist?

"Out of clutter find simplicity." Albert Einstein

I noticed quite a few people at a local Car Wash this morning while on my way to a favorite bagel shop, and pondered the car-washing compulsion. It's clear that I don't have any such compulsion, as my 2000 Ford Ranger pickup truck hasn't been washed in years. I often joke that I'm doing my part to help the environment.

Not only is my truck unclean on the exterior, the extended cab is cluttered with all sorts of things: various items of clothes ("just in case"), books on tape (I'm listening to Deepak Chopra currently), a yoga mat, and various remnants of meals past. There may even be a board game under all of the clothes (Apples to Apples). Spare change spills from several locations in the console... and whatever you do--don't open the glove box.

My truck is not all that unlike my house. Frankly, my house rather cluttered; however, I should offer this caveat: the house is 448 square feet. For those of you not familiar with square footage, it has 4 rooms: bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, and living room. The average American living room is larger than my house.

Might I mention that I live in the little house with my 16 year old daughter? My landlord describes the house as perfect for one person...or two people who REALLY love each other. You may not be surprised to learn that we're very close. I don't think it's for any reason other than we can't hide from each other. If we argue, we HAVE to face each other. There's no escape.

My daughter occupies the bedroom, so I sleep in the living room. I've set up folding partitions and cordoned off a corner as a makeshift bedroom. It's surprisingly cosy. We have a recliner and an overstuffed chair for furniture in the remainder of the living room space, and a bazillion books pour out of various corners.

You may be wondering who builds a 448 square foot house. The Assessor's database claims the house was built in 1777. According to my landlord, it was originally a one-room schoolhouse--ala Little House on the Prairie. Apparently a family of eight lived there during the Great Depression, and they were probably happy just to have a roof over their heads. Sometime later, the one-room house was subdivided into the current four rooms.

So, my tiny little house is cluttered by necessity; but, frankly--we don't have much stuff by any standard. We do not own a TV (by choice). There are no video games. (I did relent and allow my my daughter to get a stereo for her room). We have 2 chairs and two beds--and that is the extent of our furniture. There's a gas stove and mini-fridge in the kitchen. Otherwise, there are no appliances.

I often describe my place as my little cabin in the woods. We're surrounded by open fields and wooded areas, as well as quite a variety of wildlife. There's no Walden Pond, but we do have a stream nearby, which I can hear quite clearly when we've had some decent rain fail. Henry David Thoreau--I think I understand you. Simplicity and seclusion is tonic for the soul.

Speaking of the soul, Wayne Dyer taught me (via CD) that we came from One-ness and currently exist in a world of two-ness. It's a paradox: a spirit living in a physical world. Thus, we need to find balance as long as we live in this physical world. Much in the same manner, my life is a paradox. I live in simplicity, yet my abode is quite cluttered. I require balance.

From time to time, my daughter and I go through our stuff and downsize. We recycle clothes that we haven't worn in a while; we give away books; and, we make more room for our simple life. This is true of all of our lives, isn't it? We live in a relatively simple world, yet we clutter it with all sorts of things that encroach on our very sanity.

Yes, I think simplicity and clutter can co-exist; in fact, they must. And, if they must, we need to find balance.