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My son died of an overdose on August 28th, 2022, and as I walk the bank of this loss, it often becomes dangerous and frightening. Was it my fault, someone else’s fault, will I survive this pain? Each time (sometimes after a long time) I build a raft to to a safer bank. Sometimes the raft/story is healthy and healing and involved surrender, acceptance, and wonder. Sometimes the raft is toxic and full of blame. Whatever the nature of the raft I build, it gets me to another bank and I get some rest from my pain and fear. If I were to carry whatever raft I have built along the new bank, when my my fear and pain return I would first use the same raft/story to attach myself to the fear and pain on that side of the river, thinking it was armour when really it is a story that cannot guide me through the new experiences and memories that are scaring me. Eventually I would try to cross to a new bank. I have noticed about my grief that the rafts that get me past one layer of loss are not sufficient to cross the next layer. The raft sinks in the water and I along with it. An example is the brief period of time when I thought my son’s father was to blame. The story paused my fear briefly until I realized that I had chosen my son’s father, so I was to blame for that. The raft disintegrated. When I travel this journey building a new raft each time I become overwhelmed, I am able to be unstuck and instead to grow and learn to appreciate the life I have lived and still be refreshed in the moment I am living. I am able to cherish my son’s life, his death, and this time when he is with me in some other way that I continue to explore. I am not trapped in anger, blame, or sadness, although I do visit with all of these, and my rafts become more strong, beautiful, and nurturing with almost every construction. Peace be with you. 💕

Thank you, Jagdish P Dave. This brings me to think about my teaching practice. When you write about serving others I sense an optimism that your service is helpful. In my teaching practice I am often fearful that I am not doing it right or that I am causing harm even though my intention is to be of service. Next time I am feeling fearful I will draw my attention to being radically optimistic in the present moment and trusting in my spiritual practice to guide me.

For me bearing witness is being judgement free. There is always an outcome of every action, and on some level we are aware of that reality; even when we are in the present moment and free of any intention for a specific outcome. Radical optimism is the idea that whatever happens just is, and we do not need to concern ourselves with the outcome and whether it is good, bad, or what we want. In the case of enlightenment we are often motivated to engage in the path because we want to be free of the pain of our existence. This is not radical optimism, because it assumes that the pain of existence is something to be escaped or avoided. Last summer my son died at the age of 17 after a two year battle with drug addiction and the pain of his existence that led him to feel the need to escape. I am in the process of experiencing intermittent tremendous grief. Sometimes when I experience the grief I am in part making the time and space because I want to process the grief and move to the other side where it is not so painful - this is materialism. Yesterday I was having a particularly difficult time with the pain. It was my son's un-graduation day - his peers had their graduation ceremony. As I was allowing the present moment, including the pain of the loss and the details I was associating with it, it occurred to me that this was his only un-graduation day, and that I would never feel this quality of pain, this particular experience of loss, again. And over time, as has happened with my grief over the loss of my father who died almost 30 years ago, I will not feel pain of this intensity about my son anymore. And suddenly rather that being in that painful moment because I want to get to the other side of my grief, I was in that painful moment because that painful moment was, and I was, and my son was, and so it was. And I was there just because there is where I was. And that is a radical optimism. That our moments, no matter the quality or hues, are there for what they are, not ... [View Full Comment] For me bearing witness is being judgement free. There is always an outcome of every action, and on some level we are aware of that reality; even when we are in the present moment and free of any intention for a specific outcome. Radical optimism is the idea that whatever happens just is, and we do not need to concern ourselves with the outcome and whether it is good, bad, or what we want. In the case of enlightenment we are often motivated to engage in the path because we want to be free of the pain of our existence. This is not radical optimism, because it assumes that the pain of existence is something to be escaped or avoided. Last summer my son died at the age of 17 after a two year battle with drug addiction and the pain of his existence that led him to feel the need to escape. I am in the process of experiencing intermittent tremendous grief. Sometimes when I experience the grief I am in part making the time and space because I want to process the grief and move to the other side where it is not so painful - this is materialism. Yesterday I was having a particularly difficult time with the pain. It was my son's un-graduation day - his peers had their graduation ceremony. As I was allowing the present moment, including the pain of the loss and the details I was associating with it, it occurred to me that this was his only un-graduation day, and that I would never feel this quality of pain, this particular experience of loss, again. And over time, as has happened with my grief over the loss of my father who died almost 30 years ago, I will not feel pain of this intensity about my son anymore. And suddenly rather that being in that painful moment because I want to get to the other side of my grief, I was in that painful moment because that painful moment was, and I was, and my son was, and so it was. And I was there just because there is where I was. And that is a radical optimism. That our moments, no matter the quality or hues, are there for what they are, not for what comes next, not for what they will gain or create for us. The trap of spiritual materialism is that we do not get to be entirely present with what is because part of our awareness is focussed on what will be, what is good, and what is bad. Materialism fractures the moment and limits our experience. Acceptance, non-judgement, surrender, and appreciation can help us to experience our spirituality and the wholeness of our being, including our very human circumstances, in the moment in which they occur, whether they are painful, joyful, or anything in between. [Hide Full Comment]

Thank you for your advice and support Shyam, David, and Shaila! Much love to you all!

I am currently trapped in a web of hurt I experience from one person. I can see my word 'trapped' as a language of self-pity, but I can't let go of the feeling. This person has been in my life from birth, and while they have had many positive influences on my life, they also subtly sabotage me every chance they get. I am afraid to / wise enough not to allow this person in my life, and yet my body is riddled with memories of them that continue to prevent the flow of love and instead generate pockets of fear, defensiveness, and danger. I am working with a therapist to let these feelings go, and I haven't made any progress except to be more aware of the extent to which this person's poison is thriving in me. I can forgive them logically, I know that we are all doing the best that we can, but I cannot let go of my fear, which means that I have not actually forgiven them. I have many others that I have forgiven, but I am stuck on this one, and I know that it is detrimental to my well being and it prevents me from truly living my purpose. Advice welcome! Thank you.

I love the idea of using our waiting moments as opportunities for spiritual practice, and that through that practice we can relax and become more aware. I have had many moments when I have been able to achieve this while waiting - it is a beautiful feeling that transforms constriction to freedom and fills my heart with joy. I also notice that at times this practice does not seem to be available to me because there is something I am afraid of. There is some feeling of pain, loss, inadequacy, fear, or regret that I am unconsciously busy hiding from. I can go through days, weeks, or months where my body wiggles through the few meditation sessions I attempt, and I run from instead of rest into the spiritual freedom offered by the waiting moments. Reading this article helped to remind me to allow what is and be present in the many small opportunities that I have every day. It takes courage to allow awareness and acceptance. May we find it every day.

In a society where many people are severely limited by social pressure including what they do for a living, what kind of car they drive, the kind of language they use, their clothing, and their friends, many people have a limited concept of self because the self is defined by what others have told it to be. I have concluded that I chose my marriage, which happily ended in divorce, to protect myself from freedom because my husband was confident about telling me who to be, what to say, what to wear, etc. I was afraid that if I practiced freedom by expressing my authentic self, I would be alienated and ostracized for being too weird. Ultimately I realized that maybe my husband could make me be a person that was "successful" and looked good at his side, but my soul was not going to survive. Now I practice freedom by meditating, journaling, painting, and doing other practices that help me connect with my authentic self or my soul. I then do my best to honour my soul by standing my ground and speaking my truth. I am in a relationship with a man who is also learning to honour his soul, and we have noticed that we need to let each other be free and make independent choices. This has required that I do personal work to let go of fear, loneliness, competition, and jealousy. We are still working on it, but we are finding that the more freedom we have to follow our own hearts, the deeper our connection when we come together. I used to think that couples that spent time apart were not in a healthy relationship, but my new experience has shown me the opposite: I need time apart to develop my relationship with myself, and he needs the same to develop his relationship with himself.

I became a teacher because I had some teachers that I didn’t think liked me, and I thought I could save my students from that experience by loving every single one of them. Over my 23 years teaching that has remained a priority, and some days I feel like I’m making a positive difference, while on others I am afraid I am unwittingly causing harm. I like the phrase ‘know better, do better’ because it reminds me to just keep trying, but it doesn’t always make me feel better. Wanting to make a positive difference to others is a huge goal that I won’t always achieve, and it takes a certain strength to keep going. I have a student with autism and delayed speech, and a lot of what he needs from me is the space to find his own way, be his own leader, and somehow connect with others at the same time. Yesterday he told me he made a drawing for me that he forgot and would bring to the next class. It was me on a bike, him on a bike, and another friend on a bike. I talked with his Mom about it later and she said that he’s made a bike gang and I’m in it. I think I’m helping him to know he’s not alone, and he is doing the same for me. I think it’s ironic that in my attempt to make a difference to my students I come back to thinking of myself (am I enough? Am I doing this right?). I practice returning to the present moment whether I’m with the kids, reporting, assessing, or planning for the kids to overcome this. The mountain will not get climbed if I am only questioning the climbing of the mountain.

I have experiences of closing the gap which tend to come during meditation, but can also come in moments when I just let go. The more I am finding time to close the gap, the more the gap closes for me. I am a near constant hair twirler, and sometimes I will get a moment of clarity when I go to twirl my hair and choose not to - I then experience a blissful moment of rest and awareness. Most recently, I have experienced closure of the gap when I imagine I am dancing with my son who passed at 17 years old on August 28th, 2022. I have had many thoughts about how he is no longer in a physical body and so can't experience dance the way we used to (he always danced with me, even in his teen years). At first it made me feel sorry for him, but then I started exploring the idea of dancing without my physical body, and so I close my eyes and dance with him without my physical form. It is a beautiful lightening experience of joy, and I believe he is guiding me in this new practice.

Thank you for this reflection, Noel. I think the cure for hopium is acceptance and the belief that whatever happens, we will handle it (maybe not always gracefully, but we will handle it). I think the yoke is resistance to what is and getting trapped in protecting our egos. When we can accept the way things are and choose our actions from the heart with our higher purpose, we can find a way that aligns with our soul’s intentions and feel at peace with the way things are.

One way I can think about this is that hope is a desire to change the way things are, and in that desire to change the way things are, there can be a lack of acceptance for what is. In my experience, I must first accept the way things are without fear, despair, or sadness. Then I can be the change I want to see in the world rather than hope for the change I want to see in the world.