(33/40) More and Enough

Lynne Twist, in her book The Soul of Money, cautions that we in America face a perception problem with regard to quantity. She explains that we all are so bombarded with messages of "more" that we lose sight of the beauty and simplicity of the spiritual-religious concept of sufficiency.

She is right. Every day, we receive a barrage that encourages us to envision our lives as better if only we had more things.

But we don't need more. Really. We don't.

I'm not advocating that we don't need things; of course we do. I'm not arguing that the goal of a spiritually fulfilled life is that of an ascetic – characterized by abstinence from worldly pleasures.

What I want you to do is to take a moment to contemplate sufficiency. Sufficiency is the idea that something is enough just how it is. Sufficiency is the notion that nothing else is needed. Sufficiency is a beautiful concept.

Contemplate, just for this moment, that you have exactly what you need. Let your mind dwell on the idea that there isn't anything additional that you require. Contemplate enoughness. Feel filled and full.

While we know, at least right in this moment, that we have enough, most of us aren't really comfortable staying in this feeling for long. The sensation of wholeness is foreign, and we find ourselves wandering from the sufficiency of the now to worrying about the future and fretting about the past. We go back to thinking about how we would feel complete if only we only had this or did that.

Here is a poem that touches on this:

• I am so blessed
• That I often
• Don’t know what to do.
• (The answer, of course, is getting quiet, letting life happen around me, enjoying life, giving thanks, and praising God. Most often, I would rather find something else to do.)

Our nationalized day to be grateful is coming up. How wonderful is that? Our society has said, “Hey, let’s have the last Thursday in November be a day of gratitude.” We have this opportunity to, as a culture, think about appreciation and sufficiency.

Let me tell you what changes the glass we see from seeming half-full to appearing half-empty: our attitude. While it might seem like a platitude, our gratitude depends on our attitude. Judaism, the tradition in which I was ordained as a rabbi, suggests that people say 100 blessings a day – it's not a bad idea. Scientists have incontrovertibly proven that the simple act of listing what we are grateful for improves the quality of one's life.

Ask yourself: What are you joyful that you can do? What are you glad that you have? What are you thankful for? Once you answer these questions, your senses of appreciation and calm should rise. (If you want, listing more things for which you are thankful.)

Making a gratitude list is a wonderful thing to do – it reminds you of what (and who) you have, as opposed to what (and who) you lack. Moreover, the attitude of gratitude is contagious and said to attract good things.

When we have gratitude for what we have, we start to see glimpses of sufficiency. When we experience feelings of sufficiency, we feel like we belong in this world exactly as we are. Gratitude is, in effect, saying "Thank you, world." And, when you express your thanks to the universe, you give God and the universe the opportunity to say to you, "You are welcome."

How beautiful! We are welcome in this world. We belong – exactly as we are.

I pray that each of us, especially during this season of holy days, remembers to express gratitude. I pray that we realize that we don't need to compulsively fill ourselves with more. I pray that we realize that we are welcome, that we belong, that we are sufficient.

With love,


Rabbi Brian

And, if you care to, click here to see comments on the streetprophets site where this article also went up this week.

(32/40) Doing vs. Having Done.

Doing vs. Having Done.

On the web I have seen Dorothy Parker and Gloria Steinem and William Zinsser and Oscar Madison and Ernest Hemingway all attributed as having said, "I don't like writing, I like having written." (I couldn't figure out the "real" author...)

What I want us to do is to play a sort of Mad Libs-type game of "switch the verb."

There are many activities that we like having done, but don't particularly like doing.

• I don't like __________, I like having _________.

Here's a list of some of mine:

• I don't like exercising, I like having exercised.
• I don't like cleaning the house, I like having cleaned.
• I don't like paying my bills, I like having paid bills.
• I don't like doing emotional growth work, I like having done emotional growth work.

This is a problem we all face in our lives . . . not wanting to have to do the tough stuff.

What are the things in your life you would rather be done with?

Chances are, one or two of them are things you know you ought to be doing . . .

For encouragement, I would like to quote Robert Frost,

The best way out is always through.

I pray that we each have the courage to persevere until we reach the place where the tasks we need to do are no longer looming in front of us, and we can be proud in having done them.

Amen.

With love,


Rabbi Brian

And, if you care to, click here to see comments on the streetprophets site where this article also went up this week.

(29/40) Mangos.

If you plant a mango seed,
don't expect an orange tree.

As simple as this concept seems, we all manage to forget it from time to time.

We all occasionally plant mango trees and expect oranges.

(This is a metaphor . . . you knew that, right? We're not really talking about fruit trees here.)

• The person who hasn't done us a good turn in years probably will not all of a sudden go out of their way for us.
• If being honest with loved ones has been difficult for us in the past, it isn't miraculously going to get easier.
• The doctor won't have the best report for us if we have failed to take care of our health.

Folks, it's pretty simple: if you plant a mango seed, don't expect an orange tree, expect mangos.

With love,


Rabbi Brian


And, if you care to, click here to see comments on the streetprophets site where this article also went up this week.

(27/40) Suffering.

Is your suffering dear to you?

A question popped into my head a few weeks ago.

Every time I heard myself complain, or someone else utter a grievance, it would come to mind: "Is your suffering dear to you?"

As crazy as it might seem, I am attached to certain aspects of my misery. For example, I hold fast to, and even enjoy, the idea that I'm terminally unique — that I don't fit in well with groups. And honestly, this is a misery I don’t feel like giving up. This suffering is dear to me. I get mileage out of it!

So, I want to ask the same question of you: "Is your suffering dear to you?"

Let's face it, our problems often define us and anything that defines us — while spiritually it’s perhaps not the best idea to hold onto these things — makes us feel like we exist.

Georges Ivanovich Gurdjieff, a 19th & 20th century Armenian-Greek mystic, wrote:

"Another thing that people must sacrifice is their suffering. It is very difficult also to sacrifice one's suffering. A man will renounce any pleasures you like but he will not give up his suffering. Man is made in such a way that he is never so much attached to anything as he is to his suffering. And it is necessary to be free from suffering. No one who is not free from suffering, who has not sacrificed his suffering, can work. Later on a great deal must be said about suffering. Nothing can be attained without suffering but at the same time one must begin by sacrificing suffering. Now, decipher what this means." (Emphasis added.)

About a week after the phrase "Is your suffering dear to you?" surfaced in my consciousness, I realized where it came from. I knew this phrase from a passage of Talmud I had studied 15 years ago in which two holy men were interacting and one asks the other, "Is your suffering dear to you?"

I looked up the Hebrew-Aramaic tale in Brachot 5b and saw the response given: "Neither it nor its reward."

What does that mean? The explanation is this: in the ancient world it was commonly believed that God compensated people in the-world-to-come for their suffering in this world. That is, the more your suffered in this world and the more nobly you endured your suffering, the greater reward you could expect in heaven!

With love,


Rabbi Brian


And, if you care to, click here to see comments on the streetprophets site where this article also went up this week.

(26/40) Surrender.

Surrender.

Surrender, a religious-spiritual counterpart to the notion of fate, seems very un-American.

Nonetheless, of the practice of regularly taking some time off from controlling our world in order to surrender to life and to live it on life's terms is the basis of almost every religious-spiritual tradition.

Surrender is something we all know deep in our hearts we ought to do more often . . .

Here are my two favorite quotes about surrendering:

• True religion is surrender. (Muhammad)
• Doubts arise because of an absence of surrender. (Ramana Maharshi)

As a little exercise, I'm going to suggest that we take a moment to explore the notion that we could be more fated than our egos would like to believe.

Just for fun, let's dive in.

An Exercise in Surrender
Consider for a moment that you don't have freedom of will and allow yourself to surrender to life.

(I promise you don't have to do this for longer than the 117 words in this exercise.)

Think about the following:

• Maybe some of the things you thought were in your control weren't.
• Maybe nature and nurture have conspired to make you exactly who you are at this moment.
• Maybe I was fated to become a rabbi, write my thesis on freedom of will, write this exercise, and you were fated to read it.
• Maybe you are supposed to be exactly where you are at this very moment reading these words.
• Maybe you are supposed to be wearing exactly what you are wearing.
• Maybe you are breathing exactly as you are supposed to be breathing.
• Maybe you are doing exactly what you are supposed to be doing.

How does that feel? How does it feel to entertain the notion that you don't have complete freedom of choice — that you are doing exactly that which you are supposed to be doing?

Now, let me ask you one more very important question:

If everything were happening according to some giant plan — and not one over which you had any control — do you think you would be more or less relaxed?

A Charge & Conclusion
What I've started to do on Friday nights is to prepare myself mentally for what I refer to as "Surrender Saturday." I try each Saturday to see how well I can just "let go and let God."

It's not so easy. But it's also not that hard, as long as I remember that it’s a practice — the word practice by definition means it isn't something I ought to have mastery over.

I would like to conclude by reiterating the notion that we live somewhere between strict determinism and absolute freedom, in a beautiful balance like the one suggested by the Serenity Prayer:

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference.

Amen.

With love,


Rabbi Brian


And, if you care to, click here to see comments on the streetprophets site where this article also went up this week.

(24/40) Have 2, Get 2.

A Simple Spiritual Exercise:

Here is a simple, easy-to-do spiritual exercise:

See if, for the rest of the day, you can substitute the verb "get" for "have."

For example, if you were going to say, "I have to check my e-mail," say instead, "I get to check my e-mail."

It's amazing how the little change of one word can affect our attitude.

With love,


Rabbi Brian

And, if you care to, click here to see comments on the streetprophets site where this article also went up this week.

(22/40) Discernment

Discernment vs. Judgment

Being a sentient creature, I notice and am aware of what is happening in the world around me. Outside of poking out my eyes or stuffing my ears with cotton, this attention and discernment of the world is not something that I can control.

Similarly, my internal condition — my moods, the running dialogue in my mind, as well as the feelings I experience: like anger, joy, frustration and loneliness — is simply an observable state of mind. It's not really in my control if I perceive these things.

Our discernment of our external and internal worlds is not something that we actively control. On the other hand, I believe that we can manage to control (at least to some extent) our judgment of our experiences.

Let's say a fly has entered my office. I notice it. This is discernment.

If I criticize myself for having created the situation by leaving the window open that allowed the fly in, I have entered into judgment.

Discernment is a natural act that we engage in without planning or conscious thought.

Judgment is optional.

Somewhat.

Because our behavior is influenced not only by our conscious will but also by our habits, our judgment is only somewhat controllable. In much the same way it requires effort to not look up when someone says my name, if I am accustomed to cursing like a maniac when I see a fly, changing this pattern of behavior will be difficult. That said, the first step of changing a habit is, of course, discernment — noticing that I am doing it. (F.Y.I., this is the basis of cognitive behavioral therapy.)

Discernment — what I notice — is not in my control.
Judgment — what I do with what I notice — is in my control.

To discern the world as it is — with me, my emotions, and my mood as a part of that world — this is something I do automatically and will probably continue to do until the day I die.

On the other hand, judgment — something that I do frequently, something that I occasionally get a little rush from doing, and something that I can sometimes discern that I am doing while I'm doing it — is optional.

I pray we all ease up on ourselves and the world, and judge less.

Amen.

With love,

Rabbi Brian

And, if you care to, click here to see comments on the streetprophets site where this article also went up this week.

(18/40) Change

A Spiritual Exercise About Change

If the only constant is change — as paradoxical as that might seem — it would behoove us all to learn how to deal gracefully with it.

Think about it, do you really want to go around with the mindset that change is bad?

To help us learn about our response to change, I have come up with a simple spiritual exercise.

For the rest of the day, change your cell phone ringtone or put your watch on the opposite wrist.

Now, each time your phone rings or you look at an empty patch of skin instead of finding out the time, notice of how you react. Your reaction to this change is going to inform you as to your natural, pre-wired response to change.

(For many people, their reaction to change is frustration and/or confusion.)

But, change is just change.
Change isn't inherently good or bad.
Change is just different.

See if over the course of the day you can learn from yourself and accept both change as well as your reactions to it.

With love,


Rabbi Brian

And, if you care to, click here to see comments on the streetprophets site where this article also went up this week.