“… it was one of those cold, clear winter nights. As my college library closed its doors, I began to trudge up the steep hill to my dorm. My body was exhausted; my heart was heavy with grief as my mind pored over the events of the past year. I’d lost my father, who’d been battling brain cancer for two years. My grandmother, who had been living with our family for twelve years, had recently passed on. And then a month later, one of my best friends died in a tragic car accident. I’d been plunged deep into the river of old age, sickness, and death—and I was trying to swim or at least stay afloat.
Halfway up the hill, I heard a loud thought in my mind: 'I don’t know if you can take this much pain.' I stopped and stood still. Who was talking and who couldn’t take the pain? I turned within and looked for who was talking, but to my surprise found open space. My thoughts quieted and my heart broke wide open. The weight of my despair lifted, and I felt not only relief but also pervasive joy, wellbeing, and love streaming through my being. Tears ran down my cheeks, and I laughed and cried at the same time. I looked up at the stars sparkling in the boundless night sky, feeling connected and supported.
As I stood there, breathing deeply, I noticed that my usual sense of self was gone, yet I felt fully embodied and alive. From that night onward I could feel the grief, but there was more space and compassion to help me feel my emotions without being overwhelmed. I even remember thinking that I, too, would die one day—but even that seemed okay. Something had changed and a new process had begun. I realized that I had the freedom to choose to do anything with my life...
I shared my experience with a few close friends, but no one could relate... After that night I began trying to find ways to intentionally shift my consciousness. This exploration proved to be a long and winding road, where I often stumbled toward the light. Eventually I came to realize that the most important and common aspect is relief from the burden of an anxious and dissatisfied “self.” I wondered, is this relief a temporary state? Or is it possible that the sense of love, wellbeing, and unity is the potential foundation of who we are, always present underneath our chattering mind?
I went to graduate school and was offered a traveling fellowship to Sri Lanka, India, and Nepal. There I had time to meditate and meet remarkable people who discussed their experiences and journeys freely. When I returned, I trained to become a psychotherapist who combines meditation with psychology, and I worked in community mental health for many years. I started seeing a psychotherapist for myself, got sober, and married the most amazing woman, who is the love of my life...
A friend gave me a book and told me that the author and I shared the same way of talking about awakening and embodiment. I went to meet and sit with the American-born meditation teacher Adyashanti, who soon after invited me to join him in teaching a modern, nondual approach to awakening... This approach emphasized the possibility of awakening in the midst of everyday life.
I had studied this type of approach with my first teacher, Tulku Urgyen Rinpoche, in Nepal…During a meeting with Mingyur Rinpoche, Urgyen Rinpoche’s son... He said, “I would like you to teach Sutra Mahamudra.”… He emphasized how important it was to include contemporary science and to find ways to make awakening more available to people… One of my teachers, Dzogchen Ponlop Rinpoche, says, “The meditation of Sutra Mahamudra has a tradition of skillful means that contains profound methods of directly pointing out the selfless and luminous nature of mind.”
A modern Sutra Mahamudra approach starts with mindfulness meditation, which has been proven to reduce stress, and then continues to the next levels of meditation, including effortless mindfulness and heart mindfulness, which relieve deeper levels of suffering. Today, I draw on examples from these and many other meditation traditions in my teaching, in what I consider a modern human being lineage...
Once there was a fish who had heard tales of the Source of Life, which would bring whoever found it their heart’s desires. The fish swam to every corner of the ocean, asking: “Where is the Source of Life? How can I find it?” She kept getting pointed toward different tasks and to more remote parts of the sea — farther, deeper, higher.
After many years of seeking, the fish arrived back at the place where she had first started. Entering her home waters, she encountered an older fish who asked, “What is going on with you, my friend? Why do you look so worried and dejected?”
“I’ve spent years looking for the Source of Life,” the fish explained. “I can’t even begin to tell you how many things I’ve tried or the number of places I’ve searched — all in vain. I don’t suppose you know where I could find it?”
The old fish smiled and said, “I’ve heard many names for the Source of Life in my day, but the simplest is ‘water.’”
~ Loch Kelly, Shift into Freedom: The Science and Practice of Open-Hearted Awareness
Photos:
~ Loch with Mingyur Rinpoche
~ Loch Kelly
~ Tulku Urgyen Rinpoche
~ Loch with Adyashanti
~ Loch with Mingyur Rinpoche
~ Loch Kelly
~ Tulku Urgyen Rinpoche
~ Loch with Adyashanti
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