Floral Notes and Bardo: Be Befuddled or Change

Posted on January 28, 2015 by Travis Newbill

Floral Notes and Bardo: The Creative Chronicles of a Shambhala Mountain Resident is a regular feature on the SMC blog in which a member of our staff/community shares his experience of existing as part of Shambhala Mountain Center.

Guitar music is floating out from the room across the hall. It enters through the vent in the bathroom, and also seeps through the door, and the wall.

I’ve been hanging out with the acoustic bass that Dorian gave me, and singing all over the place. My art is not quite a discipline these days, but it’s very much part of life. It’s a joy, and it’s very easy.

Joshua encouraged me to be a minstrel. He said if he ran this place he’d pay someone to just walk around all day and play music — maybe a clarinet or guitar.

I asked him about finding time for dharma study and music. He said: “Study, and then play what you studied.”

Funny… I’ve been doing that — taking a phrase from the text and then singing it all day. It’s been beautiful.

I wondered about “Travis” music — Will all of my music here be so… formally dharmic?

“The circumstances will determine what kind of music you make. Be amenable.

And, about the general frustration of not being able to find the time…

“You have two choices: you can either be befuddled, or you can change.”

The art is going to come out. If it is being suppressed, it will forcefully re-aggange the surroundings in order to make space for itself.

Funny… that’s been happening also. I recently, quite simply, decided that I’d extend my morning meditation session by 30 minutes, and also add an hour of art-making to my morning right afterwards. When I sat down and looked at the calendar, there’s no reason why I can’t do that and also get my work hours in.

And… be flexible. Some days, he said, the thing to do will be to just go deep into the music. Other days, maybe not.

I told him about my ongoing efforts to schedule out my whole life to ensure that everything I want to do happens.

“Schedule is good, and breaking the schedule is better,” he said with a huge grin.

— January 21, 2015

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Travis Newbill is a curious dude on the path of artistry, meditation, and social engagement who is very glad to be residing at Shambhala Mountain Center. His roles within the organization include Marketing Associate and Shambhala Guide — a preliminary teaching position. Follow Travis on twitter: @travisnewbill

Floral Notes and Bardo: Blobs of Impossible Tar and Joy

Posted on January 23, 2015 by Travis Newbill

By Travis Newbill

The appearance of muddy terrain — my toes have been squishing around, and there seems to be broken glass and blobs of impossible tar and joy mixed in.

It’s been a “glitchy” few days. That’s Heather’s word.

Technology on the fritz, wave-like moods, trouble concentrating, odd dreams, surprise interruptions of all sorts. Me thinks that Dön Season is upon us!

I’ve been doing alright, rolling with it. Trying to keep my mouth shut when it may well spew forth subtle toxins.

On another note — such a nice note, series of notes — art has been arising all over the place. Conversations with artist friends, spontaneous jams, piano music pouring out into the hallway in the lodge. And, I’ve blocked off some time in the morning to get into some music.

Last night, while Heather was under the weight of an ugly Dön, I pulled out my guitar for the first time in a while and offered some spontaneous songs.

Earlier in the evening, a nice social mixer with the Elephant Journal staff and the SMC staff, in the Shambhala Lodge, by the fireplace, with wine, chocolates, and delicious desserts made by the kitchen folks. Lots of loving toasts and conversations.

Good to connect with Waylon, a true sangha-homie and legendary Colorado character.

Meanwhile, continuing the contmmplations on emptiness. According to the Cittamatra school (via Khenpo Tsultrim Gyamtso Rinpoche):

“…when one wakes up, one realizes that there were no outer perceived objects other than the mind itself.”

And it’s like that with “waking” reality as well.

There’s lots that could be said about the “mind only” school.

Anyway, I’m going to study a bit, send out a big email broadcast, meet with the umdzes for lunch, do some Ikebana for the staff shrine room, do some chores at the Stupa, and the exhale into the day of rest. TBIF.

— January 16, 2015

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Floral Notes and Bardo: Blabbering Universe

Posted on January 20, 2015 by Travis Newbill

By Travis Newbill

There’s a lot that could be said about the voice.

Pictured: Lake Shunyata

We’re studying the Progressive Stages of Meditation on Emptiness. At this first stage, the Shravaka stage, we’re investigating our experience in search of a separate, independent, lasting “self.”

In my meditation I indulged and played with the voice that was articulating — internally, somehow — the teachings on no-self that I had the intention to contemplate.

I wanted the voice to say these things about the five skandhas, form, feeling, and so on, and the voice obliged. The voice says whatever I want it to say. So I had the voice say all sorts of things to make sure this was the case. The voice sounds like the voice that my body produces out of my mouth when I wish to speak.

What the heck is this voice?

And what hears the voice? Who is the voice speaking to?

It seems like this voice, and the knowledge of this voice, the hearing of this voice, is what I think of as the self.

The teachings say there is no lasting, continuous anything. That a flame is not the same flame from moment to moment. Okay…

This voice, somehow, is familiar. It’s like a companion. Companion to whom?

It keeps me company? Keeps who company?

I assume that the rest of the people in the room also have a voice that I can’t hear.

What’s the deal with all of this?

If the voice isn’t real, why is it so distinct? What is my relationship with it? What do I mean by “my”? What do I mean by “I”?

Will the voice continue when I die? Seems like, probably not.

Blabbering universe.

Will the voice exhaust itself?

What’s the word?

— January 13, 2015

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Floral Notes and Bardo: Eight of Us, Fine Tea, Jazz (and Later Dub)

Posted on January 19, 2015 by Travis Newbill

By Travis Newbill

Reflective ribbons on a passing train, a small one, which runs on imagined tracks through my forest hometown — a bit of a town — a bit of an echo, over and over, and the humble drummer plays along.

We had a lovely gathering at the Nubble Nest on Saturday afternoon — eight of us, fine tea, jazz (and later dub) through the small speakers, and small booklets full of big wishes. Some frustration because it’s not always so easy to have big dreams.

We reflected on 2014 and looked ahead to 2015. It was fun, though I didn’t go too deep. I was enjoying pouring tea, and I made a quik ikebana (Greg Smith calls it “quikebana”) with some flowers that Anna brought over. I ate plenty of chocolate and I made some aspirations for 2015.

I get confused about New Year these days because the lunar new year actually means more to me — it’s more significant in my world.

Anyway, I don’t quite remember what I wished for, and it may be bad luck to tell you even if I did.

I can say that I pretty much have lots of good things going, and I wish only to cultivate my life-garden further.

Meanwhile, I want to help a family member who is in a tough spot.

After the little party, Heather and I sat around the room, hugging and such. Scott came over from across the hall and played a beautiful Cat Stevens song for us. Heather knew it — Rebbi used to sing it for her when she was little. Cool family.

Later, after tea and lemon bars, I was in the bathroom brushing my teeth and I heard some music coming through the air vent. I grabbed my bass and walked across the hall to join in the jam for a bit.

— January 12, 2015

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Floral Notes and Bardo: I Think I

Posted on January 16, 2015 by Travis Newbill

By Travis Newbill

The tunnel towards glory collapsed
and I realized I was light.
The distraction of embarrassment became a choir of angels.
All along, it was just me and my guitar.

Steve Seely is teaching a class on the Progressive Stages of Meditation on Emptiness, and I feel tremendous gratitude for the opportunity to study with him. He has studied with Khenpo Tsultrim Gyaltso, who, literally, wrote the book on this subject.

Steve was glowing in our first class meeting, a couple of nights ago. He seems glad to be able to offer the teachings.

Just now, I walked out of the shrine room, leaving Steve all alone in there. He’d walked in a half hour earlier, and seeing that no one was serving as umdze, he took the seat. There were only a couple of us in there practicing. Then, the other person left and it was just me finishing my sadhana.

It can be rather sad to be the only one in the shrine room for the scheduled community practice period. I hope that it wasn’t disrespectful for me to walk out like that.

The thing is, I am short on work hours for the week. I want to rearrange my schedule a bit to allow for even more time meditating. I live at a dharma center, so this seems totally appropriate.

Previously, I have taken on the informal role of Head Umdze. Basically, I took the lead on making sure that the umdze role is being covered on a regular basis. These days, the umdze coverage is spotty and it makes the whole container feel weak — to me, at least.

It is not my job to lead the umdze core. Actually, I believe it is someone else’s job. But, I think I can help.

So, here’s the thing of finding the balance between “letting be” and “trying to fix.” “Letting be” is often used in a positive way in the teachings, and “trying to fix” is used negatively. But, of course, we’re encouraged to try to help the world.

Susan Piver wrote a beautiful piece in response to the Charlie Hebrdo tragedy, and her great advice is to feel before acting. Perhaps, that way, it isn’t an act of aggression — trying to rid myself of the pain of witnessing discord. Rather, it would be an act of generosity, out of good intention, without attachment to outcome.

— January 9, 2015

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Floral Notes and Bardo: Sacred Training Ground

Posted on January 15, 2015 by Travis Newbill

By Travis Newbill

Illuminated, frosty song — anchored by the mournful howls…

Riding up the mountain road yesterday, on my way back to Shambhala Mountain, after having spent a couple of weeks in Florida, I had this baffling, beautiful feeling that I was entering another world.

I feel at home in this world. The energy here is tangibly different, heightened. Meditation practice is more powerful, and people are operating in a different way.

We had a community meeting yesterday, and I was struck by the way we exist together up here. The ordinariness of heartfelt, vulnerable communication is remarkable.

This is a different world.

And I feel connected to the suffering of my loved ones elsewhere. Florida was intense. Being there for so long (two weeks is a pretty long time to be in Florida, and a pretty long time to be away from here), I became unified, just enough, with what’s happening there. It’s my problem too.

Living here is not a way of escaping from those troubles, but a way of strengthening so that I can really help.

The way that I related with the situation down there was different than before. I felt much more able to be patient, compassionate, accommodating, and to refrain from reacting aggressively when I encountered something that I didn’t like.

I encountered a lot of things that I didn’t like. And I found that I could actually love those things.

In short, I feel reassured. The practices are working. The path is real. I’m inspired to go further. I believe that I can help this world, and deepening my commitment to the path is the best way.

Shambhala Mountain is a sacred training ground. My life here is good — I am so well taken care of, and I’m growing a lot.

My heart was erupting with gratitude and joy as I reconnected with Heather, and felt myself landing — here at home, on the mountain, in my nest. It felt great to receive food from my friends, to open the dharma books, and everything.

— January 8, 2015

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Floral Notes and Bardo: Find the Others

Posted on December 20, 2014 by Travis Newbill

By Travis Newbill

Just now, on my way out the door of the lodge to walk up the hill to work, I realized that Seth Godin and Terrence McKenna both say this:

FIND THE OTHERS

(Later I learned that Timothy Leary may be the source of that phrase.)

Anyway, walking up the path, as I was saying to myself over and over FIND THE OTHERS, I see Avajra John coming up another adjoining path. As we approached each other, we put our palms together at our foreheads. Then he said:

“You know, my take on it is that the transcendent Shambhala is just behind a very thin veil.”

He grinned widely. I thanked him.

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Just before all of this happened, while sitting in the shrine room, I decided that I ought to meditate more in order to tune into what’s going on here more fully.

All signs have pointed towards YEP.

— December 18, 2014

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Floral Notes and Bardo: Complete in Process

Posted on December 19, 2014 by Travis Newbill

By Travis Newbill

This all consuming glow, inviting me to go forth from self concern, to love perfectly. A work in process that is never incomplete.

Making plans and letting them drop; keeping the tires off the line; big wave picks me up–flourishing. Then, I want that to always be the case. Then I fall off a bit, resisting all the way. Then, I let go. Then, things are simpler. Then, I have the space of mind to be organized again and flourish.

Meanwhile, chaos is terrifying, abundant, and the source of all great explosions of art.

Who am I to talk about the source?

Some artistic activity attempts to present a tidy package. Maybe sometimes it’s appropriate. Much of the time though, it seems that the name of the game is fluidity. Ever shifting life. The dharma influences the flow. And then it’s letting go and lots of improvisation.

Am I becoming what I want to become?

Am I on the road to success?

Oh… I am on the road!

— December 17, 2015

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Floral Notes and Bardo: “What’s Going On in Your Mind?”

Posted on December 18, 2014 by Travis Newbill

By Travis Newbill

There is less than before, there’s a spot in the sky, the sound of footsteps is becoming more defined, the idea of destination is folding in on itself.

Last night at dinner, sitting across the table from Annebelle — we’d spoken a bit, and now I was gazing over her shoulder. She asked me “What’s going on when you do that?”

“In my mind?”

“Yes.”

I did the best I could to describe it: space, clouds, jumbles of thought, relaxation. I have nothing to communicate and there is a bit of a panic to find something to say, then that dissolves. Eventually a sense of settledness, and at that point a new moment has begun.

Something like that.

That was a nice question for her to ask me. A real dharma-sister thing to do. A great SMC dinner conversation starter — let’s talk about mind, very personally.

Meanwhile, David and a few others were creating the Childrens Day shrine — which is sort of like the Shambhala version of a Christmas tree. And, on the other side of the room, there was community cookie decorating.

Heather made a whole scene with a pirate, his ship, an island, and a palm tree. It all began with the palm tree, which she made for me as a tribute to Florida — where I came from and where I’ll be spending Christmas, cosmos willing.

I spent most of yesterday working for Joshua at the Stupa. It feels really good to offer in that way.

I ended up eating too many cookies and had a little stomach ache. I went to sleep as soon as I walked in the door. Woke up at 5:30 for Qigong, dharma study, etc.

Looking forward to this weekend — writing retreat with Susan Piver! Many Christmas gifts to prepare before then.

Lots of icing on my cookies these days. Lots of cookies to chew. All most too much good fortune to bear — or, at least, to keep organized.

— December 16, 2014

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Floral Notes and Bardo: Never See That Buddha Again?

Posted on December 17, 2014 by Travis Newbill

By Travis Newbill

Genius anyway…

I woke up on Friday and enjoyed a lovely birthday — time with Heather in the morning, then beautiful Stupa session, lots of prayers for a good year ahead, lovely lunch outside, fun and games and art, surprises and hugs from the community, and finally a vegan ice cream Sunday, candles and gifts, tasty beer, at home with Heather to finish the evening.

Heather makes birthday cards for all community members when their days come around and generally promotes celebration of all possible holidays. So, for my birthday, I was in very good hands. Grateful.

Saturday, I was sitting on a bench downtown having some tea, gazing up at Red Feather peak to the west and decided that I could go up there if I wanted. So I stood up and went. I was wearing slip on shoes.

The climb was pretty steep at times, and I ended up on a big boulder that I will probably never touch again. I had a conversation with the forest. A wonderful view of the land, and behind me, a little cave. I placed a Buddha statue that ended up in my pocket earlier in the day. I’ll probably never see that Buddha again.

On the way back down my knees felt week, and I felt older than I used to. I’m thirty-two as of the day before the climb. I sang and felt joyful anyway. Maybe joyful because of the inevitable disintegration of my body… but not right now!

I went back to the nest, had some hot tea and did some reading — Born in Tibet. I’m feeling inspired by reading about Trungpa’s life in Tibet — how strict his training was, how intense his training.

Acharya Lobel told me what to do while I’m here: “Train.”

It’s been feeling good leaning into that a bit more.

— December 15, 2014

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