Stop ~ Release ~ Feel

a daily practice and equinox workshop

Artwork by Shen, www.illuminationsbyshen.art

Each morning, as I am moving from sleep to wakefulness, I try to remember to Stop in the midst of thought-momentum, to Release whatever storylines have emerged, and to simply Feel. 

There’s a lot to feel these days. For me, though I’m blessed right now with so much love and a deep joy for the flourishing of my family (something life has shown me I can’t take for granted), there is always grief in the mix in those early hours.

Because so many people I know are struggling. And not so far away countless people have lost lives, loved ones and everything they own in earthquakes and floods.

Because scientists from the Earth Commission tell us that the Earth’s health is failing in seven out of eight key measures: we are reaching tipping points, seeing more and more permanent damage of life support systems at a global scale. 

Yet even still, it only takes a moment of paying attention - to the morning birds, the way the sunlight slants through the window, to the softness of wet grass underfoot - for the heart to break open in wonder and joy.

There is so much to rage and grieve. And there is so much to love and celebrate. Both together, often equally. Always all at once.

Our default reaction to painful emotions is to go into a story of blame, shame, fixing or fussing. When this happens reactively, without allowing the feeling first, we tend to be at best ineffective and at worst violent in our response.

Our default reaction to delightful emotions is often to grasp onto them, panicking already at their loss. We are unable to taste the sweetness when our attention is already searching for ways to possess it.

When instead we Stop (pausing to come into the body and breathe, cultivating curiosity and care), Release (letting go, just for now, of the storyline) and Feel (whatever is here to be felt with wonder and tenderness), we remain present.

This isn’t an invitation into apathy. When we Stop, Release and Feel, the heart remains soft and the mind remains open. A soft heart and open mind is able to respond rather than react. We know what to do.

This morning, I woke with joy and grief, side by side. It was joy that gave me the courage to stay present with grief. To rest by its side and feel it fully. But it was grief which pointed me to the courage in us all, alive at a time when it’s no longer possible to hide from the effects of centuries of living as if nothing were sacred.

Joy and grief together birth compassion. What a time to be alive! The turning of the great wheel from darkness into light. Optimism too: I believe we can do this.

Equinox workshop

Next Saturday the 23rd is the Equinox. No matter where you live on Earth, the day will be equal to the night. Equality isn’t equal amounts of the same thing: it invites us instead to remain equally open to all things. The light and the dark, the joy and the grief, the fear and the hope. Life and Love.

Because together the sum is greater than the parts. Grief and rage, in the arms of joy and hope, crack our hearts open to reverence and grace. We can’t choose day and deny night, but when we open to receive both, we receive Life. All are flavours and faces of Love.

And so we Stop, Release the story and discover that it’s safe to Feel everything. In feeling, we are blessed with a soft heart and an open mind which light the way for what is ours to do in this precious world. Love and Life become one.

I will be honouring the Equinox by offering a workshop at Love Supreme Projects with my dear friend Shervin Boloorian, a world-renowned, virtuosic sound healer and musician living on the other side of the world in Bali.

There will be other times where you will be able to practise with one of us individually, but who knows when the magic of this rare coming together will happen again. What I do know is that I will come with my gifts and he will come with his, and we will create something greater together. The magic and mystery of equality.

Together we will create a space for you to Stop, Release and Feel with so much tenderness and love that you emerge with a soft heart and an open mind to know what is yours to do in this precious world.

Reserve your space here 🌗

I leave you with Thich Nhat Hanh’s exquisite poem, Please Call Me By My True Names. I first read this poem when I was 23 years old, after working with the Tibetan community in India for a year, and before attending my first 20 day silent meditation retreat. Alongside those sacred stepping stones, this poem opened the door for a radically new way of being in the world for me. I hope it touches you too.

Don’t say that I will depart tomorrow —
even today I am still arriving.

Look deeply: every second I am arriving
to be a bud on a Spring branch,
to be a tiny bird, with still-fragile wings,
learning to sing in my new nest,
to be a caterpillar in the heart of a flower,
to be a jewel hiding itself in a stone.

I still arrive, in order to laugh and to cry,
to fear and to hope.

The rhythm of my heart is the birth and death
of all that is alive.

I am the mayfly metamorphosing
on the surface of the river.
And I am the bird
that swoops down to swallow the mayfly.

I am the frog swimming happily
in the clear water of a pond.
And I am the grass-snake
that silently feeds itself on the frog.

I am the child in Uganda, all skin and bones,
my legs as thin as bamboo sticks.
And I am the arms merchant,
selling deadly weapons to Uganda.

I am the twelve-year-old girl,
refugee on a small boat,
who throws herself into the ocean
after being raped by a sea pirate.
And I am the pirate,
my heart not yet capable
of seeing and loving.

I am a member of the politburo,
with plenty of power in my hands.
And I am the man who has to pay
his “debt of blood” to my people
dying slowly in a forced-labour camp.

My joy is like Spring, so warm
it makes flowers bloom all over the Earth.
My pain is like a river of tears,
so vast it fills the four oceans.

Please call me by my true names,
so I can hear all my cries and my laughter at once,
so I can see that my joy and pain are one.

Please call me by my true names,
so I can wake up,
and so the door of my heart
can be left open,
the door of compassion.