Reflecting on a symposium

I attended a symposium in mid-April. Following are my notes about and reflections on one of the panel discussions. You can find the traditional takes on the conference, and the presenters' materials, as well as a treasure trove of resources at the Symposium Website.

My notes, however, in poetry form, convey something different, something unlike a typical set of notes from a conference. I listened and watched utilizing the practice called contemplative observation -- seeing what the senses perceive, how the mind reacts with thoughts and feelings, and which body sensations the whole experience evokes. The contemplative education department at Naropa University teaches the practice, developed by Richard C. Brown. It helps integrate the benefits of a meditation practice into daily life. Most importantly, one learns as much about oneself as about the events taking place in the surrounding space.

It is somewhat like Birding with Buddha, observing contemplatively "to see beyond ordinary thinking to a wordless awareness that unites us with all phenomena in the all-encompassing process that life is" (Harper, 2011).

So, it may sound a little crazy, and it is, but that's what keeps the practice interesting. Enjoy!

Life symposium -- see, oppose, breathe, rest, accept

Perception

The room a mix of art deco drab brown and tan

Participants -- black and dark shades of blue and gray

The speakers all men, the audience mixed, but mostly men

The first speaker’s tenor is witty and frank

His voice, high-pitched as he admits his earlier naïveté, plaintively advocates letting things sit and allowing people to "bolden-up" (which he knows we all have in the last ten years)

“Congress screws up when it tries to deal with the future, rather than settle disputes of the past”

Ambiguity is slack in the system; he likes that

Reflection

Me too

Perception

We sit around large round tables, all facing the stage, quite still, some heads bowed, like mine while I type

Sipping coffee

Reflection 

Barely breathing, shallow, cramped breaths

I remind myself to breathe; I forget to breathe

I notice that my shoulders are hunched

I lower them 

They creep back up

When the speaker makes jokes I laugh and some of the tension dissolves

Then it comes right back

I wonder, “Am I the only person in jeans?”

Ah, a guy, an earring, and jeans

Breathe

I am not at home with these still black, blue and gray guys

But only moments ago -- embraces, kisses, laughs and joyful chatter graced and filled and expanded and warmed the space

No one else is really here

Only old friends; 20 years of practice

Twenty years of practicing… what? And what for?

That sinking feeling

I’m overwhelmed

What did he just say?

Fear of missing an important and relevant fact

There’s just too much

See, I'm holding my breath – oh that helps…

Ah, but there's a different way to see, to hear, to know

I straighten up; I breathe, raise my chin, raise my eyes

The room is still the same

It's still, really still

Quiet

Thoughtful

Everyone here cares, even industry

A lot

I could not have seen that before clear seeing, heart knowing

Register wants to amend Section 108

My opposition, a surprise

I don’t care, do I?

I wish not

Breathe -- I do

I see that now

Suddenly I notice -- my clothes so tight around me

They squeeze my chest, my arms, my legs, my back

When the speaker says “I saved this!”

I smile

I smile, laugh and really listen

I do not feel so overwhelmed

I lose self-consciousness

I don’t feel squeezed

But then preoccupation returns

Perception

He’s ranting

Reflection

Does he not see

So SNCC is defunct – so there is no one to complain

His risk is zero, or close to it; he need not worry so

Sit down; shut up

I need to move around

I have been sitting too long

Perception

Rick Prelinger – wearing a tux? No, but

Polished silver hair, parted down the middle

A fabulous sense of humor

Security through obscurity; he collects ephemera

Reflection

Ephemera, like the color of his hair, my skin, our positions, our health

Like thoughts, like feelings, “like clouds in a windy sky” as Hanh (2006, p. 53) says of feelings

Hmmm

He collects ephemera; not wanting to let it go

It’s what librarians do; saving things for others to see, to touch, to feel, to listen to, to learn from – ordinary prajna

I lean against the chair back

Breathe easier

The puzzle is so complex; my part of it so small; I smile about that; not so much to worry about after all

But people who want to remodel their homes must petition the copyright board in Canada for permission to reproduce their own blueprints

How screwed up is that?

Perception

Prelinger makes the 1%/99% argument

The third speaker to make it

We get it, but…

Reflection

He is the best, making his argument so eloquently, still, outside this room, no one will listen to him

Congress will solve the 1%’s problem

The rest of us be damned, and we will be ignored

Whether we speak eloquently, with wit and charm, or yell and rant and curse them and their horses and dogs and children

This is the way it is here

I read today about icebergs making slow slides into the sea, speeding up more than we thought

And so it will go, all of it

Concluding Reflection

Observing a panel session at a conference in this way, contemplating, not just listening to, what is being said, but also the manner of its presentation, the attitude of the audience, the engagement across the divide between podium and floor, and my moment-to-moment formulation of various responses to it – in my body and my mind, my thoughts, feelings, sensations, the ups and downs of the flow of my energy – this is priceless.

Aware of my self, of the space, of what is going on across the field of sense perceptions, I come to a new understanding of how to communicate with those with whom I work who want to know about copyright law.  I think differently with the part of my brain that does not always need words to inform me, I trust in a process other than analysis and synthesis to respond to others. I see that ordinary analysis and synthesis, while quite valuable, are nevertheless dualistic, so they are not all there is.

Contemplative observation allows me to glimpse the field of being where we’re all really in this together. Presence is the key. "When someone opens completely to what they are experiencing, the personality -- which is an activity of judgment, control, and resistance -- disappears for a moment" (Welwood, 2000, p. 103). And I need those moments of full presence, those glimpses of clear seeing to help me touch lightly the sadness I feel when I think about all the pain we experience, the achingly beautiful world we share, and how we must all let it all go, one by one. I can balance with this a little better each day. I am so grateful.

The ultimate practice here is learning to remain fully present and awake in the middle of whatever thoughts, feelings, perceptions, or sensations are occurring and to appreciate them, in Mahamudra/Dzogchen terms, as Dharmakaya -- as an ornamental display of the empty, luminous essence of awareness. They are the radiant clarity of awareness in action (Ibid., p. 106).

References

Hanh, T. N. (2006). Present moment wonderful moment: Mindfulness verses for daily living (2nd ed.). Berkeley, CA: Parallax Press.

Harper, G. (2011, March 8). Zen birding. Lifelong learning. Retrieved from http://georgiaharper.blogspot.com/2011/03/zen-birding.html

Welwood, J. (2000). Dialectic of awakening. In T. Hart (Ed.), Transpersonal knowing: exploring the horizon of consciousness (pp. 85–106). New York, NY: SUNY Press.