Category Archives: inner light

We’re All Fired Up!

In the First Foundation of Mindfulness the Buddha taught about the elements — earth, air, fire, water — in a way that helped his students understand their own nature.

It is said that he gave a whole lesson about the elements to his son Rahula when he sensed that the young man was being a little too proud of his finely formed body and how much it was like his father’s. Speaking to his son, he went through each element one at a time, saying something like, ‘If you develop meditation that is like the earth (fire, air, water), arisen agreeable and disagreeable contacts will not invade your mind and remain. Just as earth receives clean things and dirty things — excrement, urine, spittle, puss and blood — and the earth is not horrified, humiliated or disgusted by this, develop meditation that is like earth for when you develop meditation that is like the earth (fire, air, water), arisen agreeable and disagreeable contacts will not invade your mind and remain.“ Wow, was Rahula a remarkable son to patiently listen and actually learn from what his father was saying as he went through each of these elements using the same words over and over again? I don’t know about your kids, but mine would find some way early on to get out of that awkward situation of their parent talking about excrement, urine, spittle, puss and blood. Gross. I can hear mine saying, ‘I get it, Mom. Gotta go. Love ya.’ Ah well. Different times and after all, he was the Buddha. Like Rahula, we may be proud and vain about some aspect of our physical body. Like most women of our day, we have dissatisfaction about other aspects of our body, resulting in feelings of self-loathing, shame or envy of the bodily attributes of others. When we allow ourselves to simply rest in the awareness of the elemental nature of the body, how it is composed of earth, fire, air and water, we relax into a deeper understanding and acceptance of the true nature of being. This body is made up of all the elements that make up the rest of the world we live in. It is not separate. It is a natural intrinsic part of all that is. Now that’s relaxing, isn’t it? Sure we need to take good care of our bodies with good health care, nutrition, exercise, hygiene and grooming, but we can let go of any idea that this body is who we are, that it is a cause of either pride or shame. It is simply a physical manifestation, like a tree or a raindrop, made up of the same elements and from the same source. Given the cold of winter here in the Northern Hemisphere, it’s a perfect time to do a meditation on the element of fire. We experience fire most often as something outside ourselves. We enjoy the warmth and beauty of flames on a log fire or atop a candle. We use fire to heat our food. We enjoy fireworks exploding in the sky. We have a healthy respect for fire and like to keep it safely contained. Here in California we have a season of fire storms that consume forests and communities. When the first of the winter rains come, there is a visceral sense of relief in my body. That threat is lessened and I’m always surprised to feel how much I had been bracing myself against it until I felt safe again. But perhaps I shouldn’t be so surprised. Fear of fire is a natural animal instinct. No other creature but humans puts fire to work instead of shying away of from it. Imagine with what what trepidation early humans began to tame fire for heating and cooking. Do you remember learning to tame fire? I remember a few fiascos: trying to light an oven and getting my eyebrows singed, for example. Some of us have frightening memories of fire out of control. Some of us have been burned and may have visible scars to show for our interaction with fire. I was happy to hear that all students who were in class this week had very pleasant associations with fire — campfires, roasting marshmallows, candlelight dinners. I have those too, but also scary ones. What about you? Pause to ponder your relationship with fire. Allow memories to arise and fall away. Notice any emotional component and any physical sensation that arises with these memories and emotions. If some strong memory with physical/emotional impact comes up, take a moment to write it down. Respect whatever comes up, give it time to formulate and inform you. Is there anything in this memory that answers questions for you? It doesn’t have to be a direct memory. One student mentioned the movie Bambi as something that came up when thinking about early associations with fire. That forest fire! Poor little fawn! As young children we were very impressionable and empathetic. We ‘experienced’ in a visceral way whatever we saw happen. For example, my first real understanding of the power and danger of fire came from watching a movie about children trapped in an elevator with the orphanage on fire. I only have that image: the metal gate, the screaming children, the smoke. I have no idea what film it was or what was the outcome. But it has stayed with me and informed me at every turn. Throughout my whole childhood I was obsessed with safety from fire. My mother bought fire escape ladders for my bedroom in every house we lived in. She didn’t buy one for my brother. ‘He can jump,’ she said. This was not proof that she loved me more than him, just that she wanted to assuage my fear and let me sleep at night. She wasn’t worried that the house would burn down in the night, but she knew I did worry, and she wanted me to be able to sleep. I was so hyper-aware of the dangers of fire that I passed a fire safety test at school with 100% and became the school fire chief, in charge of four deputies (all boys!) and I was empowered to decide when we should have fire drills. I would go to the principal and tell him ‘Tuesday at 1:10’ And on Tuesday at 1:10 everyone left the building when the alarm went off. — everyone except the janitor in the basement by the alarm bell and my deputies and me in the hallways observing how the drill went and timing it. Then we would confer and divide up to go around to all the classrooms giving reports on how we did. That experience empowered me, as if I was taking charge of my fear of fire by helping to assure that the students could get out of the school in a timely fashion, away from the fire. What are your stories about fire? How did they or do they still affect you? But fire is not just an external thing. We carry fire within us. Food as fuel, burned as calories, units of energy, effort expended in fiery activity. Our brains are firing up all the time with electrical charges. Inner fire may seem harder to access in a meditation on elements. We can focus on the warmth of the body, the warmth on our skin, the warmth inside. The body generates heat constantly. Notice right now this heat, in the body. It is what indicates we are alive, this heat. Without life, the body is cold. Systems shut down and the body stops producing heat. So can we feel a deep appreciation for the fire within as we sit here, just noticing? In youth we had to learn how to strike matches, build campfires and roast marshmallows without burning them to a crisp. But hopefully we were also learning how to tame our inner fire. All that excess of youthful energy, all those raging hormones like volcanic eruptions, lightning strikes and wildfires. Sometimes they just got totally out of control, didn’t they? How often did these inner fires, in ourselves or in other kids we were with, lead to some kind of disaster? Fire and all the other elements are known for their ability to purify. Think about fire and purification, how it consumes and turns all to ash. Think of all the religious and cultural significance of fire. Ash Wednesday for Christians, for example. One of my students brought up several literary references, including the ring of fire in the Magic Flute. As we begin to recognize the fire within us, we develop ways to cope with it, some skillful, some not. An important part of our practice of meditation, explored more thoroughly in the Fourth Foundation of Mindfulness, is learning skillful means to tame and give purpose to the fire of our nature without dousing out the flames. We may discover the way this inner fire becomes like a radiant inner light that helps us see more clearly and helps us connect with others in real and meaningful ways. Exercise
As you sit with this fire element, notice what arises. As you go about your day, feel the energy within you as you move. Feel the force of your aliveness creating an energetic chain reaction within yourself and out into the warm community of all beings.

Happy Solstice!

Winter Solstice

The following is a poem I wrote nineteen years ago. At that time I was frustrated because every celebration of winter solstice, a natural phenomenon that has great meaning to many people, was focused on the return of the light. As a Buddhist practitioner, learning how to be present with what is here and now, I could see that was is present right now is darkness. This is the shortest day and the longest night in the northern hemisphere. (Happy Summer Solstice to you in the southern hemisphere!)
Since then this poem has been shared at many a winter solstice celebration. Feel free to share it, keeping in mind that in the spirit of taking only what is freely given we always include the poet’s name on any poem we share with others.

In Celebration of the Winter Solstice

Do not be afraid of the darkness.
Dark is the rich fertile earth
that cradles the seed, nourishing growth.
Dark is the soft night that cradles us to rest.
Only in darkness
can stars shine across the vastness of space.
Only in darkness
is the moon’s dance so clear.
There is mystery woven in the dark quiet hours,
There is magic in the darkness.  
Do not be afraid.
We are born of this magic.
It fills our dreams
that root, unravel and reweave themselves
in the shelter of the deep dark night.
The dark has its own hue,
its own resonance, its own breath.
It fills our soul,
not with despair, but with promise.
Dark is the gestation of our deep and knowing self.
Dark is the cave where we  rest and renew our soul.
We are born of the darkness,
and each night we return
to the deep moist womb of our beginnings.
Do not be afraid of the darkness,
for in the depth of that very darkness
comes a first glimpse of our own light,
the pure inner light of love and knowing.
As it glows and grows, the darkness recedes.
As we shed our light, we shed our fear,
and revel in the wonder of all that is revealed.
So, do not rush the coming of the sun.
Do not crave the lengthening of the day.
Celebrate the darkness.
Here and now. A time of richness. A time of joy.

– Stephanie Noble

This time of year the darkness provides an opportunity to slow down, but do we?
If we take a slower pace, if we give ourselves our meditation practice and then extend that sense of timeless awareness that arises from it into our experience of this season, it does indeed become merry, joyous and filled with an inner light.

The poem talks about ‘our own inner light’ — what does this mean?
We often talk in class about our inner wisdom, our Buddha nature, our most authentic self — well this inner light is the same. Our inner wisdom has the quality of light. First metta, loving-kindness, has the infinite quality of light, shedding light everywhere, not picking and choosing who is worthy of the light of our loving kindness. This kindness and it’s companion compassion (karuna) arise naturally as light and spreads without effort. So light is very much a quality of metta.

Awareness also has the quality of light. When we develop awareness we are casting light in the darkness of our habitual thoughts and patterns. This is both a floodlight of awareness, when we understand our interconnection with all that is; and a spotlight, when we are able to focus on a particular aspect of something and discern what is going on more clearly, seeing previously hidden connections and associations, seeing how assumptions we have relied on don’t hold up when we are really paying attention and noticing. We can see more clearly and more deeply with this light of awareness.

One morning this week, I awoke at 5 AM and, thinking it was later, I got up and opened the curtains so that the sunrise would lighten the room as I meditated. But what I discovered was the stars shining so brilliantly in the western sky, stars that I am not used to seeing there. I am no astronomer, but I could see that the constellations were in a very different position, and also that the sky was very far from sunrise. Even as dark as mornings are this time of year, I could tell it was very very early. But I was drawn to throw on some warm things and go outside and stand in the deep darkness with those brilliant stars. And they were so bright that even the neighbors’ bright security lights across the street could not dim their brilliance. And I really felt the truth of the poem, how ‘Only in darkness can stars shine across the vastness of space.’

This is a very special season, both a season of sharing and celebration, and a season of quiet. In this season of darkness the faintest light of awareness can be more noticeable, more amplified.

In this season the sense of joyous loving kindness can bubble forth and express itself in such good will and generosity, reminding us of our truest nature. We can find our true selves under the tree of being! The greatest gift of all.

So I wish you all a very Happy Solstice! May the awareness of your inner light bring joy to all the holidays you celebrate — Hanukkah, Christmas, Kwanzaa, New Years Eve — and all the moments in between the celebrations, when you are a celebration unto yourself.