What Have I Done?

I’ve been having a mid life crisis of sorts.  How did I end up here?

So many things I wanted to do with my life and really, I haven’t done most of them.  Where is my Oscar?  Where is my Emmy and Tony Award, side by side on my mantle?  Where is my mantle?

Like many over the age of, say, 35 (yes, let's say 35), I wonder where the time went.  And if I could have spent it better.  And if I had spent it better, been better, done better, would I be in a better place?  Like where I imagined myself to be when I day-dreamed at age 12?

Living in L.A., one is faced daily with the nagging feeling that one has not done enough.  That others are doing more.  That something is missing.  That maybe it's too late.

One big mind fuck.

My mind is in such a place right now.  I place my head against my pillow and close my eyes.  I scan my entire life and what I’ve done.  Like a meditation, my life passes before me as I breathe in and breathe out.  Images, memories, familiar feelings.  A home movie in my mind.  And what I’ve done - what I’ve experienced - isn’t so much about what I have printed on my business card or my resume.  

I’ve gone camping, I've skinny dipped, I’ve fallen in love, I've climbed trees, I’ve driven in a convertible with the wind whipping my hair and the sun on my shoulders, I've crashed that same convertible in to a barn hurting nothing but my pride.

I’ve awakened feeling rested and content, I've awakened hungover, I’ve spent sleepless nights excited about the following day, I've spent sleepless nights worrying, I've spent sleepless nights with the one I love, I’ve had orgasms - lots of orgasms - I’ve felt bliss, I’ve felt joy, I’ve experienced deep and profound peace, I’ve felt connected to every living thing in the world, I've felt connected to myself, to God; I’ve had transcendent experiences while acting, while singing, while meditating, while teaching, while making love, while laughing.

I’ve made an audience cry and an audience laugh and often I’ve made the same audience do both. I’ve known deep sorrow, I’ve felt alone and I’ve felt connected to everyone in the world through this suffering – through knowing everyone has suffered and everyone will again and how this very fact connects us all.  I’ve swam in the ocean, I’ve been stung by jellyfish, stung by bees, stung by others’ words; I’ve wanted to end it all and I’ve also wanted to share my bursting happy heart with the world. I’ve eaten food off a taco truck, a dosa truck, I've eaten food off of someone’s body, been handcuffed by my own volition, gotten sand in my shoes and my pants, danced till my lungs hurt, won a spelling bee, won acting awards (no Oscar yet), won someone’s love, won $10 from a Lotto ticket, made money, spent money, lost money, ridden a horse, ridden a pony and ridden the family collie when I was 3.

I’ve held kittens and puppies and baby horses and baby rats (yes, rats), and have loved, been loved, been grateful, been present, been hopeful, wished for more time and wished for less.

I've been confused and been filled with insight, had my cheeks pinched, my feet tickled, my hair pulled, my various body parts attended to with delight; I've been proud, I've been humble, I've been humiliated, I've tripped and fallen on my face in front of people (mostly on purpose while doing pratfalls).  I’ve written stories and songs and theatre and comedy and a poem that was published in Teen Magazine when I was 13.

I was a mime for three days, I've done experimental theatre and performance art for a non-English-speaking audience who understood about as much as I did.  I've sold sandwiches, sold flowers, sold cocktails, sold subscriptions to the L.A. Times; I’ve lived in San Francisco and Chicago and Manhattan and at least 15 places in the Los Angeles area.  I’ve spoken bad German in Germany, bad French in France, bad Spanish in Puerto Vallarta and Hollywood and Mr. Garcia's Spanish class.

I've found $20 on the street.  I've found myself and lost myself when I didn't mean to and when I did.  I've hated myself, loved myself, felt deep abiding compassion for myself and for my heart and how I yearn to be of service to myself and to others this lifetime and how I have felt there is still time.  There is still time.  Another half of a life – or more – to taste strawberries and drink cheap champagne and dream new dreams and squeeze my boyfriend’s ass when he gets out of the shower.   Or it could end tomorrow.  How lucky I've been if this is where it stops.

I've lived a life.  A life of details that are not insignificant.  Many of these details occurred while I've been biding time waiting for my life to be better, to be different.  And some of these details could not have occurred at all without my surrender to the present moment - without me falling in love with whatever is right in front in me.

Who says I haven’t done a thing with my life?  Not me.  But I may feel different tomorrow.  And so it goes. 

More Metta, Please!

In honor of Laker Ron Artest officially changing his name to Metta World Peace today, I thought I'd write about metta.   Not the man named Metta, but metta.


"What the hell does his first name mean?" you may ask. We all know what his new last name - World Peace - is, if not in reality, then at least in theory.  


And while world peace may not be something that can happen overnight,  metta is entirely possible right now, right here, in this very moment as you read this blog or pump gas or say hello to your nosy neighbor.  And it's impact could very well lead to world peace!  


Ron - oops, Metta World Peace - might be on to something. 

In Buddhism, metta is a Pali word (maitri in sanskrit) and is one of the four brahmavijaras - aka the four immeasurables or higher emotions of:  metta, karuna, mudita, upekkha.


Metta is loving kindness, karuna is compassion and mudita is appreciative joy - like when your nosy neighbor gets a bonus at work and buys a brand new Lexus.  You're happy for him, right?  Right?  Hellooo?  And finally upekkha, or equanimity - that unflappable, even quality you maintain in the midst of whatever is thrown your way, like your neighbor's tendency to point out how your crappy '83 Honda Civic is on its last legs.
 
We cultivate these higher emotions, these sublime and limitless qualities of loving kindness, compassion, appreciative joy and equanimity in our meditation practice so that they become second nature.  Practice may not make "perfect", but practice makes a happier, fulfilling, more peaceful life for yourself and those around you.

Metta is many things: unconditional friendliness, warm-heartedness, love, the wish for others to be truly happy, caring for others and expecting nothing in return.  However, there is a return on this kind of stuff.  Try it and see.


When we engage in metta practice, we practice sending to others loving kindness and the wish for their happiness.  We practice metta in our meditation and we practice it as we move through our daily lives.


And what Easterners have known for thousands of years, the West is slowly starting to recognize. Metta practice helps us with everything from chronic pain to better focus to general well being, a sense of connection with others and improved relationships.  


Personally, metta practice has helped me to not just feel warmth, love and forgiveness for those who have hurt me, but has actually changed how people respond to me, changed my relationship to myself and others, and therefore, changed my reality.


But sending metta to myself has been truly transformational.  As I got over how incredibly foreign and uncomfortable it was for me to send loving kindness my own way - whether I thought I deserved it or not - more of my inherent goodness began to shine through.  My creativity enhanced, my humor increased and so did my willingness to take risks, dream big, love deep.  I waste much less time on self loathing.  This is enjoyed not just by me, but by those around me as my best friends and boyfriend will attest.  How we treat ourselves is how we treat others.  Duh, right? 


And there is no way I would have been able to go in to countless seedy bars and comedy clubs each night making people laugh without a heart filled with metta.  Whether faced with surly, unhappy comics...or a surly, unhappy audience, booker, producer, etc...I've experienced transformation whenever I carry a desire for all those around me to truly be happy.  Because, look: when people are happy, they're less of an a-hole, you know?  And so am I! 

So go ahead.  I dare you.  Wish for those around you to be truly, completely, utterly happy.  True happiness that comes not from outside gain or reputation, but from our true nature - within.


Metta lives in all of us; it is part of our true nature no matter how obscured it may have become over the years for us.  When we practice getting in touch with it, we start to trust it's always there and easily accessible. 


If you want to give metta practice a try, all you need is a comfortable, quiet place to sit.  Turn off your phones and give yourself 15 minutes.  Soon, you and your neighbor will be throwing back jello shots and Googling videos of cats.  Or porn.  Whatever brings you together.

Metta (loving-kindness) Meditation

Your heart

See, feel or imagine your heart as a glowing orb of golden light at the center of your chest. Feel its warmth, see its glow.  Don’t worry if it’s just a sliver of warmth and light.  And if you can’t tap in to it at all, simply trust it is there.  Whatever you have is enough. As you breathe in, this light gets brighter and warmer.  As you breathe out, that light and warmth from your heart spreads throughout your entire body. Allow yourself to relax and enjoy this feeling.  Continue breathing in, allowing your heart to get bright and warm and then breathing out, spreading this warmth and light throughout your body from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. Do this as long as you like before beginning the sequence.

Being who is easy to love 
Now bring to mind a being that is easy to love. Usually this is a child or pet, but can be a friend or family member if you like. This is a being who, when you think of them, instantly and easily warms and opens your heart.  Feel your heart get bright and warm. Send this warmth and light, this loving-kindness, to that being, along with the wish for their genuine happiness.  There is a limitless supply of this loving-kindness within your heart. 

You* 
Bring to mind yourself.  See yourself standing before you.  Not you when you have your act together, but you as you are right now, with all your quirks and faults.  Feel your heart’s brightness and warmth.  Send this warmth and light, this loving-kindness you have generated, to yourself, along with the wish for your genuine happiness.

Family and friends for whom you are grateful 

Now bring to mind a family member or a friend that are you are grateful for, living or dead, and do the same. If you like, continue to bring to mind as many family members and friends as you like, doing the same.

~ If at any time, you lose contact with the warm, bright feeling of loving-kindness, recall the being that is easy to love, contact that feeling, and then continue. ~

Stranger 
Now bring to mind someone you don’t know; a person who you’ve recently seen at the store, on the street, standing in line somewhere.  Send them that same bright, warm loving-kindness from your heart along with the wish for their happiness.

Difficult person 
Now bring to mind someone difficult.  It doesn’t have to be the most difficult person in your life.  Perhaps it’s simply someone who has rubbed you the wrong way.  Send them this same bright, warm loving-kindness from your heart along with the wish for their happiness.

All beings everywhere 
Now imagine the light from your heart getting bigger and brighter and shining through the pores in your body. You are now glowing and shining this light of loving-kindness from all directions: your front, your sides, and your back. This light and warmth from your heart continues to grow and shine out more and more and it reaches all beings in your neighborhood, then your city, then your state, the country, the continent, around the world, the universe and beyond. Send this warm, bright light and loving kindness you have generated, along with the wish for their happiness, to all beings everywhere.

 After awhile allow the image of all beings everywhere to fade...

...And simply rest in this light and loving-kindness.

When you’re ready, bring yourself back to where you are now, to your body, to your breathing and open your eyes.  

* Metta is sent to yourself after the being that is easy to love fans the flames of your heart and gets your metta going.  This is because sending it to yourself creates a foundation from which you can send it to others and move through the world with a heart full of metta. Students often have a hard time sending metta to themselves (just do your best!) and often forget this part. Here in the West, we love our self loathing; we are under the delusion that we need it.  Don't forget this part!

~ ~ ~

I'm Full Of It

­­I am full.  Of shit perhaps?  Maybe.

But I also feel filled to the brim with words and premises and punchlines and ideas for jokes that I don’t give a crap about right now.  Full of dates on a calendar and schedules and appointments and to do lists and plans for building the life of my dreams!

I’m exhausted.

But this is in stark contrast to another life, where I spent many years stuck. Years and years holding back, fearful and not doing much toward getting unstuck.  I worked, came home, watched TV and complained about my life.  I call this sticky, stuck-y chunk of time The Couch Years.

 
During The Couch Years I was not saying yes to life.  When life came calling I said:

“How did you get this number?” and promptly hung up.

Finally, the desire to become unstuck had become greater than the limited comfort of being stuck.  Armed with my new found meditation practice, more clarity and my rediscovered gut…and I was OFF!  Off the couch and running. 

At first it was a slow jog, but in recent years it has become an all-out sprint.

So much to do!  So much to be! Answer the call!  Got to say yes to life after years of saying no!

Then in 2008, a life-threatening health scare landed me in the hospital and after almost kicking the bucket, I fully felt the preciousness of life.  I was filled with a desire to live fully, even if my fear and doubt decided to tag along.  Nothing could stop me.  I ramped up my comedy schedule more and more, getting up to do comedy every chance I had.  And I started teaching meditation on top of my job as a massage therapist.  Writing and working and teaching and performing and keeping up with my Facebook page and emails and texting while driving (whaaaat?) and cramming 28 hours worth of stuff in to 24 hours a day.

And then I met my amazing boyfriend!  I decided sleep was overrated as I added sheer bliss, romance and love on to my plate.

And this past year I re-invented my meditation workshops in to Comedy Karma and Creativity Karma, delightfully filling my schedule even more. Wake up, meditate, go go go, love, work, make people laugh, teach, work, make my boyfriend's cats laugh and keep saying yes to life.

People remarked: "I don't know how you do all of this!" and "You're always so busy!"

The Couch Years seemed long behind me.   In fact, I forgot I even had a couch. 

Oh yeah.  I forgot about balance.

This hit me like a ton of bricks a couple of months ago when I got slammed with a bad flu and found myself…on the couch.

I realized something.  After all those years of saying "no", now it seemed all I was doing was saying "yes".  Balance is knowing when to say yes and no.  When you have your eye on the bigger picture, saying no to some things becomes a yes to other things you value.
  

Thank Buddha for my meditation practice.  Otherwise I don’t know how I could have done this schedule and all this craziness the past several years.  

The thing about meditation is it gets you in touch with the experience of vast spaciousness so that creativity can blossom and form can come in to being.  You begin to know the difference between your gut and fear.  Meditation strengthens your mind so that you become very focused and very effective, wherever you place your mind. And there are countless other fruit it bears...

So my meditation practice has contributed to my being able to accomplish and do so much: alertness, focus, concentration, personal power.

But I still have lots of opportunity to practice the other things my meditation practice helps teach me: relaxation, openness, spaciousness, trust.

Trusting that things will unfold, rather than my having to jump in and make them happen.   Rather than wanting results now.  Or losing sight of the present moment.  And gripping tightly to outcomes.

Enjoying what is, and acting from a place of enthusiasm and joy, rather than trying to make up for lost time…for all that time on the couch.

 So I've cut back on performing and the gigs I'm saying yes to.

Comedy Karma workshops are on hold till June.

And in a couple of days, I’m leaving for ten day silent meditation retreat.

I want to start trusting that I won’t go back to the couch.  Between the highway and the couch there is a path of balance.  The couch in itself is not “bad”.  The couch can be a healing, resting place when used in balance with action.  Stillness and action.  Rest and movement.  Balance.

My intention is to empty out so that I can make room for the next steps on my path of balance.  To empty out so that insight and creativity can arise.  So that the familiar experience of oneness with the Universe can fill me up.

 
Shamatha is a foundational practice I’ll be using while on retreat.  Buddhist meditation includes shamatha (tranquility) and vipassana (insight) practice.  Shamatha is key to creating a strong, focused, tranquil mind so that one may have lasting insights in to the nature of mind and the nature of reality.

Follow your breath.  No need to change it or "do" anything; just watch it.  Hold it tenderly.  Remain on the breath and after many, many breaths and the breath drops away, remain on the spot where you perceived the breath.  Be led in to experiencing emptiness.  

For instructions on doing shamatha at home, click here

Breathe In, Breathe Out, Breathe Easy

Whenever a tragedy occurs, like the earthquake, tsunami and impending nuclear meltdown in Japan, there is a collective grief that hangs in the air.   Everyone feels it.

What do we do in the face of such suffering?

We might turn away.  Or obsess over CNN.  Or feel overwhelmed, guilty, helpless, numb.  We may become more self absorbed as a defense to such enormous grief and then think: "How can I be so obsessed with my little life when there's bigger fish to fry in the universal pan?"

In Buddhism, the first Noble Truth that "life is suffering" is not a proclamation that "life sucks".  It's a truth urging us to be more willing to face suffering squarely.  To really look in to its eyes.  When we practice this, we can handle anything that comes our way.

There is a belief – especially in recent years – that we must think only happy thoughts and to avoid, avert and distract ourselves from what is.  We avoid "bad energy" at all costs and after awhile, we're living like ostriches, with our blindfolded head in the pink sand, believing that this will attract shiny happy things in our lives.  This way of living can actually create more fear.  It can make us live smaller.

And facing suffering, understanding suffering, doesn’t mean being glued to the TV watching horribleimage after horrible image for hours on end.  This, actually, can be a hysterical indulgence after a certain point.

So what do you do?

You could donate to The Red Cross, you could call to make sure friends and relatives are safe, you could organize a benefit.  But beyond this, what the hell do you do in order to understand such suffering on a deep level?  I don't know completely.  But I've been doing Tonglen.

Tonglen is a beautiful practice for suffering.  Basically, you breathe in suffering and you breathe out relief.  You actually relate to suffering, rather than turn away.  Rather than worry and obsess.  Rather than wish things were different. 

The Buddhist path is one of fearlessness.  When you truly feel that nothing in life can touch your inner sense of grace, deep peace and happiness, you become braver in life.  You take risks.  You live bigger.  You're happier.

Funny, that.

So.  What to do in the face of such suffering?  When there is seemingly no compassionate action you can take in the moment?  Try Tonglen.

 

Heart of Bodhicitta:
Get in contact with your open, loving, wise heart.  If you have trouble with this, just think of you at your best.  This heart is from where all your good deeds have ever sprung.  This is a place of spaciousness, wisdom, stillness, clarity, compassion and loving kindness.  A collection of all that is good in you.  Trust me, it’s there.  If you don’t think you have it, borrow someone else’s.  Hell, Angelina Jolie’s will work.  Or Mother Theresa.  Or your great grandma.  But see it as a beautiful orb of light in the center of your chest.  Maybe golden light, or pure white light.  However this resonates with you, get in contact with your heart of bodhicitta, your inherent goodness and compassionate wisdom that is there.  Rest your attention here for a while.  Count to ten breaths.

Breathe In Suffering:
Now see the suffering of another, perhaps a loved one, as a black cloud.  It’s hot and thick.  Breathe this black cloud of suffering in to your spacious, open, loving heart.  Your heart uses it for fuel and…

Breathe Out Relief:
...As you breathe out, exhale relief to those in suffering in the form of this beautiful light from your heart.  Exhale compassion, loving kindness, stillness, expansive clarity and wisdom.  All that is limitless and true in your heart of bodhicitta.  Let these qualities touch and relieve those beings who suffer.

In, suffering, out, relief.  In, blackness, out, light.

We want to not do such a thing, right?  I mean, breathing in suffering?  Are you nuts?  Try it anyway.

Breathe in the suffering of others.  Focus on a single being at first.  Perhaps a woman who has lost her child in the tsunami.  A nuclear plant worker.  A dog who cannot find its master, roaming the devastated shoreline.

Breathe in your own suffering; your own resistance to life, your resistance to your meditation practice, your resistance to washing the dishes after dinner and the fight you always get in to with your loved one about it.

Breathe in the truth of life; that we all have suffering of some kind or another, taking various shapes and forms that are no more and no less suffering.

Breathe out the truth of inherent wisdom, kindness, compassion, spaciousness, stillness, clarity.

Eventually, with this practice, you begin to hold suffering and bodhicitta together, in the palm of the same hand, neither fearing and averting, nor attaching and preferring.  It’s all of it.  Just like life.  

I do Tonglen for myself, for loved ones, for a woman with a suffering face in line at the grocery store.  For my parents, who did the best they could.  For ex boyfriends who didn't do whatever they didn't do.  For those who have caused harm to me.  For those to whom I've caused harm.  For a dear friend who's going through a breakup.  For an entire nation that is ravaged by loss and devastation. 

And I begin to be able to face the un-faceable.  And I begin to know there is something else there alongside all that suffering.

And low and behold I find I can truly handle whatever comes my way more often than not.  This breeds a trust that is always there.  Well, most of the time.   And so I keep practicing.  In and out.   In and out.

Distracted Thought...Or Devastatingly Brilliant One?

I teach meditation to a lot of artists, writers, comics, actors.  So I'm often asked what to do if, when you sit to meditate, creative ideas come forward.  Do you treat them as monkey mind and get back to meditating?  Do you sacrifice your day's meditation for the creative flow of ideas?  Do you set the ideas aside, trusting they'll be back later?  Just let them float by and label them as "thoughts"?  Or, in this case, brilliant, creative, innovative, the-world-must-know-of-this thoughts?

 A meditation practice opens you up to your creativity in a way that is astounding.  When we still our mind on a regular basis and "empty out", we then become a channel for inspiration to fill us up on a regular basis.  Suddenly we know exactly what to do with all those thoughts that seem to overflow in our minds.  It's like our mind is a closet that gets a makeover: because we've created some space, we now know just what to do with everything.  Many thoughts we let go of, like a purge to the Goodwill for unwanted thoughts.  Others are seen in a new light and appreciated.  And of course there is now space for new, amazing thoughts.  Except now, perhaps, we choose the thoughts that we let hang around in our closet more wisely.

When I create my most weird and fun and authentic and smart material as a comedian, I've usually meditated earlier.  And I notice my meditation practice gives me the discipline when I sit down to write, to actually write.  So when I sit down to meditate, I meditate.  Well, most of the time. 

Whenever we sit to meditate, the intention is to meditate.  But sometimes, creativity will come forward as soon as we get a little quiet and we may be inspired to get up and have a
creativity/writing/brainstorming session instead of a meditation session.

This is really the practitioner's call. The mind will always find something to take us away from our meditation, something more "important" (the dishes we have to do, that call we need to make, the worries that parade through our mind) and sometimes it can take the form of something noble like a "brilliant idea".

If it's a trickle of creative ideas, trust that they will be there when you finish your sit.  Keep letting them pass by like clouds and bring yourself back to the object of your meditation.  Chances are, if they're worth it, they will be clear and calling to you after the sit.  Really.

Let’s say the ideas are not a trickle but a stream. If you have a strong practice and know the difference between the monkey mind throwing poop at you and true inspiration, open your eyes and jot down some notes.  Keep a pad of paper (I do!) next to your meditation area and with discipline, open your eyes, jot down your notes and then set them aside.  Just as we set aside thoughts when we do certain concentration based meditations, do the same here.

If the creative thoughts are a flood, then perhaps you must get up and devote yourself fully to a creativity session rather than a meditation session.  Let it out!  Let it flow!  Enjoy it!

And then have the discipline to sit back down afterward and actually meditate.  Otherwise your monkey mind will begin to convince you each day, as you sit to meditate, that you have a new brilliant idea that must be attended to immediately.  Or that you MUST get up and Google yourself.  Or finish rearranging your underwear drawer.  And if you get in the habit of always interrupting your meditation session, you won't get very far in your practice.  You may get far in the screenplay and that's great!  But after you honor your flood of creativity and those re-writes on the third act you just immersed yourself in...sit back down before the day is through!  Balance, baby, balance.  And Googling yourself is never as fascinating as you think it's going to be.

Building a meditation practice that works with your creativity, your schedule, your temperament and your style is worth it.  It takes some determination and discipline, but once you're in the zone, it'll inform everything you do in your life.  And it'll be a large part of the reason you're having incredible creative downloads in the first place! (OK, now you can go Google yourself.  You know you want to.)

La Connection

A little over a week ago, I did a gig at The La Quinta Country Club.  La Quinta is an affluent resort town just outside of Palm Springs.  And I was to be the comedy entertainment at a 13 year old’s birthday party. Not for the 13 year olds in attendance – although I do have a joke about how lame 8^th grade is that’s been totally killing since 9^th grade – but for the 13 year olds’ family and family friends in the next room.  I have to say, doing stand up for the kids looked more promising when I first arrived.

 

Let’s just say this was not my demographic.  It was a lot of parents and grandparents.  I would have thought a comic who talks about being a mom would be best for the gig, but hey, I’m not one to turn down some dough in exchange for some dick jokes.  Which brings me to dick jokes.  Not that I really have any.  Comics sometimes like to refer to doing stand up as “telling dick jokes” in an attempt to belittle what we do.  After all, we’re just hired clowns telling dirty jokes, right?

Looking at the crowd, I worried.  These were white, upscale, conservative folks, many over the age of 60.  Again, not my demographic.  How would I connect to them? 

My job as a comic is to connect to people.  Making them laugh is good, too.  But first and foremost, I believe that good stand up is all about connection.  Bringing the room together.  Helping everyone there feel a connection not just to me but to each other.  And those connection moments of “aha!” where we realize we’re not alone in being human, sound like laughter.

The stage was set apart from the audience and the first two rows of tables were empty.  About 50 or 60 audience members sat at the back of the room sipping wine and I stood on a little stage waaaay across the other side of the room.   None of this is conducive to connection, let alone comedy.

I started out testing the waters…the jokes that usually go over well were met with stares and polite chuckles.  There was so much staring.  Ugh.  “TV has ruined peoples’ enjoyment of live events!” I thought.  Or maybe I sucked.  It’s all possible.  I looked at my watch: 2 minutes down, 43 minutes to go.

And I experienced that moment of: “Oh just give up” mixed with “I wish this was different/better/at least not as awful as it is”.  

But by having a meditation practice, I've learned to meet the moment, work with what is and remain curious and determined.  Wishing things were different, feeling bad for myself and resisting what is compounds suffering.  Meet the moment.  So I decided to meet them. 

From now on, I insist on doing comedy flanked by desert landscape paintings.

And by minute 3 I hopped off the stage, walked past the rows of empty tables up to the full tables and began talking to them.  Suddenly they realized they were not at home watching T.V. and sat up straighter, their eyes glinting, perhaps with fear and the chilling thought: “I hope this comic doesn’t talk to me.”  But I did.  And I learned so much!   Paul and Dina have been married a long time and Paul knows her cup size but Dina’s long forgotten it.  Shelly is in her 50s and single and has made a new year’s resolution to meet a man who will remember her cup size.  And Jenny is a saucy 70 + woman with five kids and five grand-kids she adores, all of whom have watched her cup size grow over the years.

By minute 10, there was a sort of cohesiveness to the room; everyone had been seen, acknowledged.  They loosened.  I loosened.  I had thought I needed to keep it clean, given the crowd, but I dropped an F-bomb early on to test the waters.  OK, good.  Now let’s talk about sex.  Aha.  Yep: everyone does it, has done it or wants to do more of it.  Like Shelly, whose new year's resolution involves doing a lot of it.  We’re all joined by relationships - to our spouses, significant others, our families, to each other.  Connection.

Minute 25 and there were still some people holding back and I respected that.  I didn’t get in their face.  I didn’t ask them questions.  But I acknowledged them, included them.  Minute 30 and guards were dropped.  Laughter was coming easily and in my closing 10 minutes I managed to slip in my one, actual dick joke.  I witnessed several people laughing so hard, they were choking on their pinot noir.  There was no more holding back from them.  They were with me.  I was with them.  We were all connected.  They applauded heartily and loudly as I left the stage and I heard a few “woot woot”s coming from the AARP members in the corner. 

Simply put, this was a gig that required “crowd work”.  Call it what you will, but the job got done: connection, laughter.  Laughter, connection.  It was nice.  But what happened next was wonderful.

A man came up to me and excitedly asked for the microphone.  I handed it to him and he jumped up on that little stage.

“Now I want to tell a joke!”  he declared to the crowd and with that, he launched in to a rambling old-school joke.  He finished, looking positively lit up at the laughter in the room.  I sat down in front at an empty table, cheering and applauding.  A woman who had been sitting in the back of the audience came and joined me.

Another person stood up and said: “I want to tell a joke!”  And another.   And another.  Laughter, applause, connection.  These fledgling comics beamed.

A man grabbed the mic to tell his joke and he nervously began, “So a teacher ---“  but he stopped.   “Oh no."  He whispered.  "I’m so nervous, I forgot.”  

“Take a breath and trust that you know it."  I called out from the front row. "Take your time!  We’ll wait!”  He looked down at the ground, took a breath and his head popped up:

“So a teacher was in the classroom one day—“  

He turned to me in disbelief and delight and said:  “It worked!”  

And like a comic on his way to being pro he turned back to the crowd and reveled in finishing the joke.

And this kept going.  There were punch lines we had heard before, stories that were silly, jokes that were so old they were around way before Sally was born.  The mic was like a torch being passed to everyone. Maybe I brought them together.  Maybe I inspired them.  Or maybe after witnessing my 45 minutes they thought: ”Hell, I can do that”.  It doesn't matter what started it!  What mattered was that it was happening. Something had been kindled and fanned and flamed and now it was being tended to.  I was touched.  And if I had anything at all to do with it, then I had done my real job.  Not the "front" job I have, that of making people laugh, but my real job: connection.

It was getting late and I finally started to leave right after a woman got up and sang something so pretty it brought tears to my eyes.  And as I slipped out the door, paycheck in hand, I looked back at all of them, the people who I labeled “not my demographic.”  They looked so different now than they did before.  And I realized: we’re all each others’ demographic simply because we’re human.  There is so much that connects us.  And connection is what we crave.  As well as the occasional good dick joke. 

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Faith, Determination and That Monkey Mind of Mine

I posted a blog on 2/14 about how moving toward a goal is often like a drive to the beach.  If you know that's where you want to go, start heading West!

A fellow meditator asked me a question after reading that blog:

" Your 'drive to the beach' reminds me a bit of my rambling and distracting mind when I meditate sometimes. I start on the object: "the beach" and then find myself wandering off...
[What do I do] when my willy nilly mind gets the best of me?"

Great question!  Working with the distracted mind can sometimes lead to dullness in our practice and a mechanical approach.  We know we're to bring ourselves back to the object of our meditation each time we wander off.  But sometimes we’re simply going through the motions each time we pull our attention back over and over. We’re doing it by rote, but we don’t really have enough interest in the object of our meditation to want to stay there in the first place.  Here’s where faith and determination come in.

And here’s where I switch analogies away from “the beach” for a minute.  Our mind is like a very small child who wants to wander in to the busy, colorful street.  We have her by the hand and each time she pulls toward the street or takes a step in to the street, we lovingly yet firmly pull her back.  We do this not just because we love her and want the best for her, but because we have faith that this action is actually building toward something.  Each time we lovingly yet firmly pull her back she is gaining an awareness, a habit, a sense of the larger picture.  And some day she will know to do this on her own.  We have faith in this small action that is taken over and over and over again.  And our determination is fueled by this faith.  And we must have determination to build a strong meditation practice. 

In my classes, I talk about having “interested determination” in your practice.  Take an interest in the object of your meditation (the breath, an orb of light) and summon your determination to be there.  Let there be faith that the mere action of continuing to bring yourself back time and again is enough.  Not getting to some vast spacious place of bliss.  But the mere action of bringing yourself back over and over is perhaps – maybe at least for today’s meditation – what it’s all about.  Pulling that small child back from the busy street is no action taken in vain.

I recommend bearing in mind the above before all else.  But some days we're just off the object more than we're on and we want to just leave the child at home!  

So...back to the beach analogy.  I look at it this way: the “beach” is a strong meditation practice.  The "road" is whichever practice we've chosen to do.  There are many roads that lead to a strong practice.  So if you’ve been doing, say, Shamatha (mindfulness with breathing, where the object is the breath) for several weeks in a row and perhaps today and yesterday and the day before you were off more than you were on, then maybe it’s time to invest in a new practice for a time. Take a small street.  Hop on the freeway.  But get on a different road.

When I have an unusually distracted mind, I do Tonglen.  I visualize my heart as a golden, glowing orb of light and home to Bodhicitta.  Bodhicitta is any compassion, loving kindness, awakened, enlightened part of my being that exists.  And if I’m having a crappy day and don’t believe any of that stuff exists in or on or around me, I summon my faith.  I have faith that I have some sliver of Bodhicitta within me and I see it as a golden orb of light in my chest.  

 

And then I see – as a black cloud - my distraction, my resistance (to the practice), my doubts (in the practice and myself) and my worries (about everything).  I breathe this black cloud in to my heart and my heart uses it as fuel.  My heart gets bigger, brighter, warmer and as I breathe out, this light and warmth spreads throughout my body.   I don’t try to analyze or figure out the contents of this black cloud of fear, doubt, worry, resistance, distraction and all-around suffering.  I simply breathe it in.  It fuels my heart.  Then I do this for others, sending the heart of Bodhicitta out to all beings.  I breathe in others pain and suffering and at some point, there doesn’t seem to be any difference between Bodhicitta and suffering.  And I enjoy this dance of everything, allowing for everything to be a part of my practice. 

Luckily the visualization and the fact that this is a moving mind meditation keep my monkey mind occupied.  Sometimes we have to throw the monkey mind a banana.  And Tonglen is one potent and nourishing banana for our whole being.

Whenever we switch to a new practice, it’s usually a good idea to commit to doing it for at least ten days.  Otherwise, our wiley self (ego) can convince us that this isn’t the right practice for us…or this one…or this one… or this one…and then the bell rings and our meditation session is over.  Oh, you rascally ego!

So maybe Tonglen is your practice for a little while.  In the meantime, you and your monkey mind...and perhaps all beings...have been nourished.  And we all need a snack on the way to the beach.

Perfect Can Wait

At the end of every workshop, we go around in a circle and state a creative intention and a personal intention for the week.  And last Sunday, after leading a fantastic day-long meditation/writing workshop, I vowed - in front of my students - to finally start a Comedy Karma blog.

As soon as the words came out of my mouth, I heard an inner voice (one of many that I have, thank you) say:

"How are you going to do that? Where will you find the time? This is going to be a crazy-busy week! Start panicking now!"

You see, I had visions of this blog being designed beautifully with just the right color palette and pictures and offering forth an incredibly inspiring and hilaaaaaarious first blog posting and angels and mokeys flying out of it throwing candy at the reader. 

After all, it's got to be perfect, right?  So where would I find the time to create a blog and then post an absolutely perfect first posting?  And also find time to pack, get an oil change for the car, return emails and calls that are piling up, meet with clients and do a comedy show before leaving town for a gig in Palm Springs in less than 48 hours?

And then I remembered to work with what is.  And to do the best I can.  And to release attachment to the outcome.  I talk to students about working with what is and doing the best you can, wherever you're at.  Meditation can be challenging - no one ever said it's easy - but we're up for that challenge when we work with what we've got, apply ourselves as best we can, are kind and loving toward ourselves and let go of how it's all supposed to turn out. 

And the repeated practice of this fills us with the confidence that we can take on anything, over and over again.  And we start to live a little more fully, rather than always waiting.  When we release our attachment to outcome - to the way things are "supposed" to look - it opens up a door of possibilities.

So here I sit, trying to get as much done as possible, chomping on dinner, painting my toenails, and typing away.  This blog isn't as hilaaaaarious as I'd like it to be and may not inspire anyone to meet their life differently and certainly no angels or monkeys were harmed in the making of this.  But it has had my full attention (well, almost full as I juggle hummus and bright red nail polish) for the past ten minutes.  And I'm proud of myself for summoning my determination to - as Nike urges - just do it.

Before I opened my mouth at the end of the workshop last Sunday, I was going to wait to start my blog.  But I didn't.  And now I kinda like what I wrote.  Funny how that happens.