Sunday Journal Prompt

“You can change your relationship with time.”

– Dr. Deepak Chopra, The Ohio State University Stanley D. and Joan H. Ross Center for Brain Health and Performance Lecture at Mershon Auditorium
 

Decades ago, my now-deceased mother studied in California with Dr. Deepak Chopra, known for his insights on the blend of Western science with Eastern medicine. For the past month, I’ve been alerted to news of his visit to my town by email, social media and posters—at work and at the yoga studio where I practice. So I went to listen.

The talk focused on neuroscience, biology, memory, stress, aging and ways to reduce inflammation. What most stood out to me was his discussion about time, saying that we can change our relationship with time. “Time is a human construct.” We view it as linear, but time is cyclical, like tides, he said.

Though I’m still wrapping my mind around this idea, part of me connected to it. In my hands was my mother’s copy of one of Chopra’s books in which she had highlighted lines that resonated with her. When I reread that book, I feel as if she’s speaking those particular lines to me. I’m grateful for the insights they offer on who she was and what mattered to her. Yesterday I underlined phrases that resonated with me; perhaps my future self will read those as messages from my former self. I see the phrases that are both underlined and highlighted as places where Mom and I meet—as if we’re having a meaningful moment in a conversation 12 years after her death, making a new connection that transcends the traditional boundaries of time.

What is your relationship with time? How might you view it differently?

  

 

 

Sunday Journal Prompt

“There are two ways of spreading light: to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it.” 

- Edith Wharton

I’ve been on a bit of a high lately, as I’ve been blessed to be in touch with loved ones near and far in honor of my birthday—a chance to “be the candle.” Though the celebrations have passed and I’m refocused on grading end-of-term papers, I’m still feeling the light.

 

As I read and respond to final analysis papers written by my students in the honors program, I feel such a sense of joy for them. Many had come to my office early in the semester to confess uncertainty or fear about their research projects. Breaking out of the five-paragraph mold and exploring a new approach to writing contradicted all they’d been taught. Months later, they’ve proven to themselves that they could master what they initially resisted, as their work reflects curiosity and sophisticated thinking. I view my feedback to them as an opportunity to be “the mirror” that reflects their light, a chance to celebrate them and the progress they’ve made.

How can you spread light by reflecting the candles around you?
 

Sunday Journal Prompt

“Each night, when I go to sleep, I die. And the next morning, when I wake up, I am reborn.”

 - Mahatma Gandhi

 

For many, Easter Sunday represents rebirth. While we typically associate the holiday with the resurrection of Christ, some say the word for Easter stems from Eostre (or Ostara), an ancient Anglo-Saxon Goddess symbolizing the rebirth of the day at dawn and the rebirth of life in the spring.

Here in the Midwest, the snow has melted and our winter coats are no longer needed. At the university where I work, students play Frisbee on the grassy Oval and engage in leisurely conversations with one another in the sun. Before an event hosted by two of my colleagues, one of them cut this sprig of spring to bring nature indoors.

 

 

What part of yourself would you like to be reborn this spring?

 

 

 

Sunday Journal Prompt

“Space is always here, already here before your noticing of it.” 

 - Radiance Sutra #20
 

As part of my yoga teacher training program, I spent a month journaling about a translation of one of the 112 tantra yoga teachings, known as The Radiance Sutras. I chose to interact with one that related to something I struggle with—the idea that I have enough time and energy to do what I want to do. Beyond my home and work projects, I want to spend meaningful time with people I love, travel, develop a side-business and write books I’ve sketched out.

“Space is always here,” the Sutra assured me. It refers to space as a presence that gives me permission to be who I am in the worlds in which I want to express myself and encourages me to “rest in this vast expanse, friends with infinity.” Midway through the month, I found myself sitting taller, feeling more space in my body. I breathed more deeply, rediscovering often-unused lung space. I became more aware of how I spent my hours and more accepting of the quiet time and rest I need—space to recharge myself. Next I noticed I was more open to the surprises that postponed other plans, such as a request to substitute teach for a friend having surgery. By the end of the month, I began to trust that I have the space for what I’m meant to do.

What arises when you think about space in your life? How might you approach it in a way that frees you?
 

 

Sunday Journal Prompt

“There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.”

– William Shakespeare

 

When I rediscovered this quote, my first inclination was to contest Shakespeare. What does he mean, nothing is bad? Just look at the front page of a newspaper. Horrible things happen daily; heartbreak surrounds us. However, when I focused on the latter part, “thinking makes it so,” his message became more clear. It’s not what happens but what we make of what happens. How are we reacting to our own lives? How are we spinning things?

Buddhist teachings distinguish pain from suffering, referring to suffering as the “second arrow.” In other words, we can’t escape the first arrow—physical pain from an injury or the emotional pain of loss of, say, a relationship. But are we also stabbing ourselves with a second arrow? Are we adding to our initial pain through obsessive thoughts of what we or someone else “should have” done? Do we pile on anger? Do we add third, fourth and fifth arrows? Or, after grieving, do we shift our thinking toward rebuilding our future?

How can you reduce the effects of “the second arrow” of suffering we tend to add on to our pain?