Feel the Fear and Do It Anyway

I sat down last evening in front of my computer to connect with our Tuesday evening meditation group in Florida. In spite of the 3 hours time difference, and more than 3000 miles between us, I felt as close to them as ever, and we continued our study of Patanjali's Yoga Sutras. This text has survived more than two thousand years, and it explains how the mind – as an instrument of perception – gives rise to the sense of individuality.

By observing the mind, we come to know that we are not the mind, but rather pure consciousness itself. Think of your hand for a moment and ask the question: "Am I observing my hand or am I my hand?" Most of us will readily recognize that we are not the hand, but that we have a hand. The same is true with the mind. After nearly forty years of practice, I have become completely convinced of this fact. There is a place of perfect stillness, beyond thought, emotion and memory, pain and pleasure. This is the state called mediation, and I have found it to be the most effective method of surfing the inevitable waves of emotions we experience in life.

By transcending our individual consciousness and merging into something beyond, we experience peace. And each time we return, it helps us to see the perfection in all the pain and suffering that comes with individual existence. I have found no exceptions to this, and even the passing of my mother last year, although profoundly sad, was strangely perfect. There was deep sorrow, but also peace and acceptance.

When we're not connected to this place inside us, we experience fear. Over the past year, this is an emotion I've gotten to know really well as I've had to confront how many things in my life lie almost entirely outside of my control. Besides my Mom's passing, Radha had her final ear operation this past December, and for months I couldn't shake the intense feeling that she wouldn't survive the operation. I finally allowed myself to consider how I would go on with out her. Priorities shifted, and my love for her deepened beyond comprehension. I wanted to explore every facet of this fear and did not to use my mediation practice to try to transcend it. I decided for the first time in my life to make friends with fear.

I practiced preparing for the moment when I will pass from this physical reality back in 1972, when I studied at the Buddhist Dharma Center in Montreal. Yet, twenty-eight years later, it seemed more immanent. As the date for her operation grew closer, I was confronted by a dilemma: Radha needed my assurance that everything was going to be okay, but I was allowing myself to experience the fear of losing her. Fortunately our relationship is strong, and I was able to be there for her while still sharing with her the fear we both felt.

During the operation I was allowed to stay in the room where she would later recover. I quietly meditated and called out to friends around the US and Canada. The fear was powerful, and I kept open to it without being overwhelmed. I stayed present to the emotion just as I would comfort a scared little kid. Thankfully the operation was a success, but the knowledge remained that one of us will almost certainly outlive the other.

As my wife recovered with the loving care of our entire meditation community in South Florida, I strangely could not shake the feeling. Fear still held a fascination with me, but I did nothing to stop it, choosing intead to fully explore the depth of its offerings. For many months afterwards I allowed myself to breathe deeply into this amazing emotion. I made friends with it.

It is now May, and we have returned home to Vancouver after a successful season in our other home in the States. For the first time in the eight years of spending time in this wonderful city, Radha and I presented a program that would introduce ourselves to the community by offering a program called "The Three Biggest Blunders Facing You In All Your Relationships."

Fear tagged along with me that night, and even though I felt disappointed by my own performance, Radha was there to help make the night a special event. It was then that I finally embraced fear as a true friend. After a full year of remaining present and available to this important emotion, the fear dissolved into a feeling that everything is now perfect once again.

Radha and I before the event

More to come I am sure, but at this point I can say with certainty that I am not afraid of fear any longer.

Sweet Memories

It's a rainy spring day in Vancouver, pretty common for this time of year, but a change since we arrived two weeks ago – for us it has been all about beautiful weather and plenty of sunshine.

Anyway, I enjoy being inside with the rain pouring and find myself gravitating towards the warmth of our fireplace and oven. Baking becomes very appealing on these damp cool days. I come from a long line of pie makers (200 years that I know of), and I even discovered a restaurant in Virginia with my grandmother's maiden name that specilizes in homemade pies.

my mom and dad are on the far left

In spite of all the great pies, my dinners growing up were pretty bland. We were mostly a meat and potatoes kind of family, and my mother had sworn she would never marry before she met my dad. He was much older than her, and prior to meeting him she had spent all her time pursuing her nursing career. After they got married, though, her hidden talent for cooking began to surface. Rhubarb was abundantly available in the spring time, and Mom started making rhubarb pies with the most amazing crust.

Finally in touch with her inner baker, Gracie started taking advantage of all the delicious fruit growing in our yard – peach,cherry, plum,and apple – as well as the strawberry fields near our home. Mom displayed her creativity by unique combinations like apple-rhubarb, plum-cherries, and peach-strawberry.

Its still too early for many local strawberries here, but the rhubarb is in the markets . The forecast has called for rain again tomorow so maybe I'll buy what I need to make an apple-rhubarb pie for our Victoria Day picnic ,but tonite I think we'll walk over to Aprodite's for pie and chai:

Better remember our unbrellas along with my memories of warm days filled with the sweet smells of home baking...

Grandmother's Pie Crust (slightly modified for healthier eating)

2 cups flour (unbleached & wholewheat pastry)
1/3 cup unsalted butter
1/3 cup oil (canola)
6 tbls. ice water


1) With a pastry cutter cut the butter into the flour.
2) Combine the oil and water than add to flour mixture.
3) Stir with a fork until combined, there will be lumps of butter.
4) Separate into 2 balls.
5) Roll flat between 2 sheets of wax paper
6) Cool in fridge while you make pie filling

Disagreements Are Invitations To Go Beyond Our Stories

Recently on our Facebook page (Gary Gopal Radha Bello) a fellow yogi named Lawrence, who also lived at the Integral Yoga Institute in New York City back in 1972, took a strong position against my posting an Earth Day prayer to mother nature. I was shocked by the firestorm that followed:

the conversation looked like this at times

Forty postings later, I was delighted by the many different stories contributed by various other friends and acquaintances. It had never occurred to me that there is an entire segment of the population that considers it “idolatrous” to appreciate the feminine force behind creation.

The good news is that, in spite of the controversy, Lawrence appreciated my relaxed style of engaging him about the issue. Although I agreed with the reactions from most of the people sharing their points-of-view, I had no intention of preventing Lawrence from sharing his comments on my profile page. Rather than being closed-minded or dogmatic, my wife and I invite those who disagree with us to share their ideas - we learn so much from these interactions.

As the debate continued, I was reminded of our days in Vermont during the 80’s and 90’s when we directed our non-profit meditation retreat center. More than a few of our students were critical of our propensity to spend time with those who did not follow our life style nor beliefs. We explained that these individuals tested and challenged our commitment to the practices, and that we actually experienced a deeper understanding and appreciation of our own path when questioned by others. How can we grow if we only associated with individuals who agreed with us?

We discovered early on in our practices that disagreements were invitations to go beyond our stories, so Radha and I have trained ourselves (with the assistance of mentors like Swami Satchidananda, Ron Kurtz, and others) to pay attention and notice our reactions to opposing views. We respond by pausing whenever we find ourselves stuck in an opposing story during a disagreement. The last thing we want is to have our stories prevent us from remaining open to opposing viewpoints – without making the other person wrong. Our Enlightening Moments relationship tools have proven to be a valuable asset to the individuals, couples, and groups we coach.

a Blissful Disagreement in action

Avoiding disagreements, or forcing your opinion on others prevents us from learning and growing. Think of a surfer sitting on his board in a wave-less ocean – she may be floating steady, but I would hardly call it surfing. We view disagreements as the huge swells that challenge us to move beyond our comfort zone. Our spiritual practices and our life experiences have taught us the importance of staying open-minded when disagreements arise.

For us, conflicts are invitations to notice the self-limiting nature of our stories. If everyone agreed it would be dull world, and we would remain stagnated in the illusion that we were a finished product rather than a growing, living organism. This posture of curiosity and acceptance of opposing views has added to our success, and that has kept us young in thought, open to new ideas, and always available for a passionate debate or disagreement.

Try the following exercise as a means to experience a disagreement as an invitation to go beyond your story:

Remember the last time you had a strong disagreement with a business associate, friend or family member. Determine the actual facts of the situation (as in who said what), and then, get clear about why you reacted. Your reaction is what we call your story. Finally, ask yourself what was the invitation hidden in that situation?

Gary and Radha are thrilled to be back home in Vancouver