Tibetan healing practice; another reason to support Tibet and the Dalai Lama

The Tradition of Chö
Chö is a unique spiritual practice and a path to complete enlightenment. It can also be used as an extremely effective method for healing others in body, mind and spirit. The chief way it does this is by clearing the karmic obstacles and blockages arising from our negative interaction with others in countless past lives. Harming others through physical, verbal or emotional aggression results in a karmic seed, which ultimately ripens in various sufferings of body and mind. These sufferings are particularly of the kind that are not readily explained by our immediate actions, attitudes or life context. Rather, they stem from our taking of life, vitality, property, honor, confidence or hope from others. They may also arise from past actions, speech and thoughts, based on greed, attachment, apathy or egotism. Similarly, the limitless ways in which humans disrespect or despoil the material and spiritual forces of nature, the planet, or the elements (fire, water, air, earth) are the basis of numerous difficulties and life obstacles; socially, materially, physically and mentally

Clearing Karma
The way these many debts are repaid in Chö is by offering our most previous and closely guarded possession - our own bodies - to the universe. Our physical form is left behind, and our consciousness takes on a pure, enlightened form, appearing as the wrathful feminine Wisdom Dakini. One’s corpse is then transformed and prepared in a variety of ways so that each and every being receives offerings of exactly what they desire. The highest, enlightened guests are offered beautiful objects, nectar, divine sounds and so on. Humans, animals and other sentient beings receive food, shelter, happiness, a mate, love and whatever they lack or need. In particular, those whom we owe a karmic debt are repaid, and are given back whatever we have taken from them, or whatever eases their suffering. This may even take the form of our flesh, organs and bones, or whatever demonic beings may desire (thus causing our illness). While undergoing Chö ritual one may merely rest and relax, or one may visualize this process of paying back all debts, multiplied a million fold in our mind.

Thus, on one hand, by making exquisite offerings to enlightened spiritual beings, one creates tremendous positive karma that generates health, prosperity, happiness and ultimately enlightenment. On the other hand our negative karma and its consequences, is purified.

Note that Chö is not "exorcism," nor does it simply banish or aggressively attempt to destroy or hurt attacking or injurious entities. On the contrary, demonic or obstructing forces, and all those that have karmic debts with us, are satisfied and placated. They are healed and brought towards the spiritual path, giving up their negativity and rage.

The Chö Cycle
Healing Chö uses the profound power of sacred ritual, sacred sound and mantra, combined with the meditative power of Lamas and Anis trained since early childhood to perform these practices. The thousand-year history of Chö inherently carries extremely potent blessings, as it is connected to numerous lineages of enlightened beings, mahasiddhis, realized yogins and Archetypal Spiritual Beings (or Yidams). Chö particularly calls upon the enlightened Feminine Wisdom Energy, in the form of a Dakini, the Wrathful Black Troma.

While this all brings incredible vitality and veracity to the practice, its greatest strength lies in the leading force behind those rituals - Kunzang Rinpoche, a renowned Master of Dzogchen in the Ancient (Nyingmapa) School of Tibetan Buddhism. His own life reads like a fantastic tale: from the prophecies about his birth to the enlightened visions and experiences of his early childhood, and from his study with the greatest Lamas of the last century to his flight from Tibet, arriving at his recognition as a true living Buddha, a fully realized and enlightened being. those who meet him see a deeply loving and compassionate human being whose openness and wisdom illuminate his simple, straightforward approach.

Excerpted from a paper by Asa Hershoff

I find my Inner Runner

I finally had the opportunity to focus on 'space' yesterday; outer and inner. I spent much needed time on my apartment, reviewing and organzing all sorts of areas, finding trash treasures and new ways to bring the elements I love into view. I have been living in the same kind of space since my teens; a glorified studio, to work, read and regroup, to hide and heal. There is less division between outside and inside; plants are thriving. And as always, the images and art everywhere serve to mirror my inner landscape where anything is possible.

So I approached a run yesterday in the spirit of adventure without plan. I wasn't sure if I wanted to do a 6, 8, 10 or longer miler. I knew 4 days in a row was pushing it, but didn't want to pass up a beautiful day. Plus I had 2 pieces of blueberry pie to account for. I headed up Park Rd to Stirling. It gave me a mile to warm up and think about how far west I could go. A little sluggish, it wasn't long before I found my stride. On Stirling, I focused in on the long straight stretch and stopped at 56th for cranberry juice. At that point, with everything feeling fine, I decided to head over 441 to the Seminoles. The road back to Sheridan was a beautiful, full-out glide. One more stop at John Williams Park (city kept its parks open, County did not), and I continued east. Definite fatigue and miscellaneous aches and pains thru my feet and legs, but they shifted around. This seemed quite reassuring, as if all the small parts were working themselves out. Somehow, by the time I rounded up to Emerald Hills Drive, I found it, I settled in, with everything a-hum, and there was my Inner Runner.

She took me in a great leap of confidence and wrapped me in the music. We took off down an empty road the holiday had cleared out. The circular stride of my feet and the swing of my arms, tucked efficiently in to my body, beat out against an invisible drum of air somewhere mid-point before me, and once again the eperience of running as drumming came alive. I melted all boundaried into the soaring light and sky around me, the air in a steady whoosh as it carried me along. I've had stretches of good runs, great runs, but nothing that felt like this; I went on till the end of the run, till I made it home in this state of transformation. I somehow started the run on a quest for survival. I ended in a great ball of light.

We never know when the moment arrives. We train to be ready for it, however. We use our disciplines, whatever they may be, to crank open doors wide enought to let the energy flow when summoned. Most of the time, we don't even know we've made the call. But something else in us does. It gets us ready. It makes sure that days and days are put in of gritty mornings along lonely roads, deep in deepest thought, pairing away at any unnecessary doubt which can cloud the impact of bliss. We must be ready to receive, to embrace, to run with it, carrying it along from point to point until it is ours to carry no more.

The Courage to Care; A Thanksgiving note

I ran a tough 8 miles today, hours of sitting at work exacerbate the soreness of higher mileage, but as I got closer to the end of the run, I found new gas in the tank and took the last mile in an easy, long length of high strides. I felt the pressure of December looming, and what it will take to keep my focus in training. There are many distractions in my head as I meander my thoughts about work and life taking shape, always in flux. But the start date is a certainty and a commitment. I found a calling in my feet that took me from momentary moods to the ability to take heart in my long-term stability and good health. I found the courage to care about myself in an entirely new way. The strength and stamina running gives me provides more energy to care about my clients, co-workers, and loved ones. The struggle that was negotiating my way through life has become the adventure of seeing what the road will give me today.

You runners out there, you know who you are, I must thank you for your support. Cheryl, Marlon, Dave, the uber-runners who have marathons under your belts, who cruise through your miles as seasoned veterans, you have been incredibly generous to me. I fell in love with running through your eyes, and encouragement. And as the community of readers out there sees it through mine, I hope to transform my vision of running into accomplishing commitments to care about what matters in life. Transform yourself! Allow your lion's heart to run into the world full of foolish pride and certainty that anything is possible with your good faith, your vision and your love. We will all be standing, cheering you on.

These are Beautiful Days

We are different, in essence, from other men/women. If you want to win something, run 100 meters. If you want to experience something, run a marathon.

Emil Zatopek

Thanks, Marlon, for the quote, and congratulations on your marathon.

After a rest day yesterday, I completed a stunning 8 miler today, complete with mild temps, beautiful clear air, and enough winds to make it challenging on the way back. My legs were still a little sore from the weekend mileage, but I felt strong overall, and re-inspired to give my all to this effort. I feel uplifted by forces unseen, the accumulated time of trials and triumphs, the honesty of my spirit connected to others who run, who ran, or who wish me well in my life.
These are beautiful days, and I cherish the sound of my heart beating hard in my chest when I hit those strides which seem lifted from the earth; taking flight in my heart, I see my dreams taking shape.

Romancing the Run

In the same way we forget the pain of difficulties, but tend to remember sweet times, I find myself romancing even a tough run. Today I headed out after sleeping in, intent on catching up on much needed rest. Heading west, I worked through the initial miles worth of foot cramping and fatigue. I went long. I wanted to work out whatever was pent up inside me; and the day was with me- clear, mild temps and breeze. I ran without music, and listened to the chatter in my head. I found the niche of warmth in the movement of miles stuck in the middle of the run, and loosened up. I think it was 16 today, felt like it anyway, and the toll it takes is now catching up with me. I ate all day, rested between chores. No matter the intensity of the effort, I kiss this run with my heart. And ready to do it all over again soon.

The subtle energies, often none too subtle in running, seem magnified....and it feels as if all my spaces are filled with light and rhythm....the quiet pause between the beat of my heart, or my footfalls, seems eternal.

First 'cold' run

I wasn't that keen on training this morning, after a very busy week and already logging 42 miles. I floated on my fatigue last night and decided to let my mind make itself up over night. The cold air settled in; our first strong front of the year. At 5, with the thin black pre-dawn sky about me, I packed up and made my way out. By 6:10 I found my feet and rounded up Bayview. The chilly air brushed up my skin in small prickles of electricity, my pace was brisk, the dawn was just breaking. By Ocean Blvd the white caps out on the ocean were alight with the early sun. I took Sunrise in a steady gait, a little tired. Las Olas and boats crisp against their peers. Rounding the corner into Victoria Park. The long meandering road up to Sunrise hugs a strip of park on the Intercoast the neighborhood is named for, full of lazy morning dogs and owners, a few walkers, and lovely lush landscaping. The last crossover at Sunrise is flush and easy....when I come in, the attention of all the other runners is elsewhere....but I'm persistant in my vision of early movement in the dawn....

The world wants to take us down a lonely road, a hard road. We fight for our right to find our own way, against the pressures and pitfalls. I waited many years through the confusion to hear my footsteps on the morning winds, coming across oceans and swales of winds, punishing and sometimes neutral in their presence. When the light suddenly emerges, it takes the wind into it, and the way into the distance can be apprehended...I feel, now, the trust in movement....and the balance it takes to sustain. We have only a little ways to go. The day is still with us. The tide can be turning even now.

About the Beach

I wasn't planning on it, but suddenly, after 3 days of being cooped up in a classroom, I took off for a run at the beach. Parked at Dania peer. A bright, clear, windy, mild temps day. A day when you can run at any point because even mid-afternoon, it's perfectly comfortable. I did my World Run day run yesterday, not sure if it was 10, felt like 10, 5 out and back, full of fast energy again, like today.... Apparently, not running for 2 days was a good break. I cruised the roads, and today, swept down the Broadwalk, focused on the narrow track of brickwork that hugs the beach. The beach was spotty with bathers, and the surf was wicked fast up onto the sands, whipping green and full of foam, crashing against itself. I wasn't planning on it, but I soaked up enough sun and wind and ocean to fill my eyes with raw beauty. Enough I hope to put soft steps into the runs I do this week. We're back to it, now, routine training. Hopefully nothing alters this but what needs to be done. Between times out, back, and- beyond.

No one Runs the Same Miles

Ryan Hall blew the pack away at the Olympic Trials for the men's marathon, Saturday. Ryan Shay, also a team contender, collapsed and later died after 5 miles. Martin Lel, of the fleet-footed Kenyan champions, took the NYC Marathon today for the men, while Paula Radcliffe, my girl, 8 months from having her baby, blows off her competition for the women's win. At the Trials, my boy Abdi, as well as Meb, didn't fare as well, and Alan Culpeper, hands out a DNS. Khalid, Dave's guy, threw himself at the leaders for an alternate spot on the Olympic team. Many others, young, gifted, swift, also champions, never made it to the front of the pack.

No one runs the same miles...they say there were men and women in their 80's running New York. The super, uber-athletes may lead the way, but the course is full of unlikely runners, every stripe and level of ability. And the crowds that go crazy when the leaders pass will still be screaming for them too! Their adrenaline and excitement pushing the energy way up, where a tired runner can hook onto and crank out another stretch of race.

I watched both events; I can't believe I will soon, one day, feel that experience. I ran long today, probably about 15 or more, picking a route that would give me a few good long straight stretches to practice stride and rhythm. It was punishing, and I've been tired for several days. My feet and legs ached the entire time and it only increased. I was out a ridiculous amount of time, even with my stops, and I laughed at a few points about my goal of 5 hours for Miami...sometimes I wonder if I'll ever make it at all....

I watch the elite run their best miles, their pretty miles, miles with smiles. I watch them work through what I know is discomfort and stress if not outright pain. The ones churning like torpedoes, as Khalid did, and the ones, like Ryan, who flew like a fast wind, just inches from the ground, in a ballet of speed; elegant, long strides, easy arms, unwasted movement.

Where are we running to? That place in our heads that belongs to us. We wait for the moment when our bodies are too busy to notice that we are fixed somewhere around ourselves, as if what we are is actually the instrument that carries us, body and all, down the road. That feeling that we are indeed in good hands, our own, and the world is bearing us up on our feet so we can go longer, or faster, or stronger. The sense that anything can happen between the start and the finish, and its up to us to find out.

No one runs the same miles, and all the stories that NYC will generate this weekend will fill many editions of news reports, magazines and conversations.... I have a story too; I have a belief that nothing prevents me from putting myself on the line, and testing my commitment to unraveling my love of this endeavor. It's a mystery to me- and that tells me its full of grace and beauty and truth. It has transformed me, and allowed me to see within myself, direct and pure, in a way I never could before through my head. It has taken my heart and given it courage and confidence; it has proven me more tenacious than I even hoped.

The "I can do it so can you" line I use for my clients over the years in regards to changes, and the many significant ones I've been through, is particularly poignant with running. We assume there are rules and expectations that must be met. But the bottom line is, if you love to move and get out there, anyone can run. The most democratic sport; it encourages anyone, any age, any disability or ability to participate. I can do it because I watch the crowds behind the leaders and see myself. Soon I will be in a pack with other wanna-be's and we will be havng the time of our lives winding through the streets of old Miami. I will run for the Ryans, the wheelchair champs, the teams raising money, I will run for the oldsters and the young guns. I will run for my own family to bring energy to their challenges, and to meet up with some of my own.

But mostly, I will run because I can. Because I'm curious about my miles. Can I have that moment of effortlessness like Ryan? Will I triumph like Paula? I can aspire to be my own hero.

Blessings, and Happy Trails, Ryan Shay. We'll be 'tapping' you too, if its OK. Thanks for your incredible life.