Wholistic Fitness

When s(om)eone is suffering, there are spiritual dances playing…many times, many dances at once.

These Kali Yuga Days has brought forward suffering up front nearly everywhere in a much more highlighted way.  Even for those of us (still, barely like my Clan) living in the Paradise Bubble of Durango?

Simply being able to make the bare necessities of living where we feel Aligned,  a VERY SLIPPERY SLOPE to maintain if you are not one of the legions of rich (mostly white) folk that have swarmed my native town and have categorically changed the demeanor, face, and pace of our community.

One of the incidental fallouts of Durango chronically being on OUTSIDE Magazine’s TOP TEN PLACES TO LIVE AND PLAY among many other mags?    Our h(om)eless populace has grown explosively.   A main reason is that we have a local ‘soup kitchen’ – located a stones throw from my own home,  whereupon free meals are granted to all.  The rampant drug/alcohol addictions raging within many of these h(om)eless people spurs nearly daily situations whenever i walk my daughter over to the market, or when Sandra walks home after working two jobs in the oncoming early darkness of approaching Autumn.   These incidents are not positive, helpful, or encouraging to an almost 10 year-old girl.

“Daddy?”  she’ll ask, while squeezing my hand harder as we walk/jog rapidly past another drunk/drugged out h(om)eless Being on our way home after he/she shouted obscenities at us.

“Yes, Baby Girl,” i reply,  attempting a calm, clarity to my voice as an inner voice makes me want to pick her up and sprint for home…

“How come the homeless have no home and why are they so angry?”

{Conscious Breath}

(at my age?  ilg should have the wise nubile succinct answer to her precious Dharma question…i flounder mentally…)

“Well, {Another Conscious Breath so she can hear me default to Conscious Breathing}…
that?  First Daughter?  Is a fantastic Dharma question and one that Daddy has NO easy answer to.
Reckon the most honest answer is?  When the White Man came to Turtle Island?  We did not have the spiritual maturity
needed to Listen, Respect, and Abide by the Natives who lived pretty harmoniously and sacredly here.”

“Daddy?”

“Yeah, Precious One?”

“I am sooooo happy you are my Daddy and that Mommy is my Mommy and that San San {Sandra} is San San and we are Blessed enough to have two homes and so much love and money enough to eat food and grow our own garden!”

{Ilg, on the verge of tears…knowing that we are only in Durango still via Food Stamps and unfath(om)able amount of everyday work at several jobs and rely upon our c(om)munity and sangha and friends to keep Dewa growing up in my own hometown as per my and my Dad’s dying wish.}

” Daddy Loves you soooo much and am soooo proud of you!”  is all ilg could muster for a response.

Later on, during a mealtime of garden grown Kale and freshly caught Trout,  ilg was being to invoke a little more breadth to the homeless plight in our town courtesy of a quick review of my Tibetan Teacher’s words from my Naropa days.  Thus ilg spoke to Dewa;

“When someone is suffering and you don’t know how to help?  My Teachers told me to put myself  in his or her place. Imagine as vividly as possible what i would be going through if i was suffering the same pain. Ask yourself: ‘How would I feel? How would I want my friends to treat me? What would I most want from them?’

Precious Daughter?
When we exchange ourself for others in this way, we transfer our cherishing from its usual object, ourselves, to other beings. So exchanging ourselves for others is a very powerful way of loosening our own wants and releasing the heart of our Divine compassion for others.”

Feeling nearly prideful for my dharmic rebound,  i looked at  Dewa.

She was smiling.   At It All.