Month: July 2025

Posted on by joseph mauricio

THE PASSING

 

Love may be an eternal flame. But you and I are just sparks. We illuminate the journey and pass into the dark night.

We will die. Our great love destined to last forever will pass. The best poems will pass. The Buddha passed and Buddhism will eventually pass. Even the Beatles who’s songs seem to reinvent themselves will eventually fade out. The “me” we’ve come to know, cherish and protect will pass. Very few will ever know when. Even condemned prisoners facing a given execution date have reprieves, stays and appeals that change the date so many times, that many most die of natural causes at an ungiven time. Even patients on their deathbeds, don’t know how and when the actual moment will come. Suicide is an act of fearful control, playing god with pills or knotted bed sheets. Even then, do we know when the moment will come and how it will feel? Nothing can move faster than the speed of light, and none of us while living can know our own death.

Looking objectively, this seems a pretty lousy deal. Who would make such a bargain? Were we drunk? An inebriated fetus in the Vegas womb gambling blindly on life?

We come into this world, clinging to our new existence grabbing onto shiny objects as they pass. This will continue through our life as though life is defined by everything we capture.  Maybe we might halt the flow of time by hanging onto reeds on the shore. This drive to exist is deeply programmed into us as a primal imperative. And in our desperate gripping to “be” few of us consider the fact that tour being will one day be stolen, often without ceremony or warning.

But yet, do we really not know? Somewhere inside we get it, don’t we? As deeply programmed as our drive for survival is, the knowledge that the ice below us is very thin is unseen and unspoken at every moment. Every fear, dark dream or shadowed room, speaks to the actual fear that lies within us. The very rebirth of spring heralds the coming thaw when the ice of our pretense will thaw and we will fall into darkness eternal. So, without ever thinking it, we strategize, plan and plot to avoid the inevitable. Too fearful to let go and live, we are always running, hiding, apologizing, explaining and rationalizing. Living in our head, we bargain against catastrophes we imagine, all the while knowing somewhere that one of these will come true.

Contemporary songwriter, Jason Isbell, wrote If We Were Vampires, and life was a joke, we’d go out on the sidewalk and smoke, and laugh at all the lovers and their plans. I wouldn’t have the need to hold your hand. This is stunning … maybe, he continues, time running out is a gift. I’ll work hard till the end of my shift. And give you every second I can find and hope it isn’t me who’s left behind.

So, death without warning is a raw deal, but would immortality be better?  If we won every hand while sitting at the cosmic card table, wouldn’t we soon lose interest? Wouldn’t the game become less meaningful, even from the start?

The question of our impermanence—and what it means to us—is central to the Buddhist path. Dying may be the fundamental statement of life. As one traditional Buddhist slogan reminds us: Death comes without warning. This body will be a corpse. In particular, the life of beings is like a bubble that can burst at any time. This slogan is one of the “Four Reminders, That Turn the Mind to the Dharma” and is recited every day, often in the morning, and even on birthdays. Buddhism not inherently morbid. In fact, this reminder comes after we contemplate the preciousness of our human birth, a slogan that ends “now I must do something meaningful.” Our life is short. But the life around us is plentiful, powerful and poignant. It was here before us and will continue after we’ve gone. Yet so much of that life is held at bay because of our fear. Maybe the issue is not death as much as the way we allow fear to dominate life. Buddha had his students look at suffering and fear as primary conditions of human existence. He did this so that by accepting life as it is, we can begin to learn about the life that is actually here. It is that life that becomes the roadmap to our liberation. If we don’t see the truth we can’t understand the condition.

By looking directly at our existential situation, we are not only confronted with the tragedy of life, but also its preciousness. Facing death awakens us to the value of life. Acknowledging that we don’t know how or when this life will end is naturally frightening—especially to the part of our mind that seeks control. But meditation is the process of uncovering and letting go of that fearful need to control. It is not death that keeps us sequestered from life, it is the need to control our life. However, letting go of control does not mean letting go of our agency. In fact, as we develop awareness and the ability to pay attention to the preciousness of this moment, our agency becomes more potent, not less. When we find ourselves gripping, coercing, manipulating—trying to hold on to impermanent aspects of life—we can pause and recognize that impulse as a common human frailty. Then, we can look within and remember control is futile. Control might preserve some aspects of the life we’ve already had, but it does nothing to allow us to live now. And living now is so very important to our health wellbeing and development. We cannot control the future, but we can wake up now and direct ourselves toward our purpose. This is how we gain agency by letting go.

This life is a passage that leads …

well, you’ll have to stay tuned.

Posted on by joseph mauricio

CONNECTING TO ORDINARY MAGIC

The Ordinary Magic of Synaptic Receptivity and Connection.

As I walk down the street, or through a garden path, as I drive to the store or wander through the park, I become lost in my head, waging battles no one can see. This self obsession creates a moat between me and the life all around me. As I work out the details of my goals, the small and ordinary things of my life are passed by unseen. As though the birds and flowers and trees are less important than I am.

Children have a natural inquisitiveness. They are one in the joy of learning to learn, when everything is a discovery; the unbridled joy of discovering their own feet. When did we forget to be amazed by our own feet? When did we get so mentally complex that we forgot to be amazed at all?  When did we become so self-important that the very ordinary things of life became inconsequential? With meditation practice, we can reclaim this synaptic receptivity—the openness and willingness to connect deeply with the world around us. This is the ordinary magic of connection, allowing us to notice the moments that connect us to life, as it happens, in real time, all around us.

We usually cloud our connections with an overlay of bias, judgement, misapprehension. This misapprehension stems from the mind referring to itself in a limited loop, rather than connecting out to the life that is there. The mind wants what it wants, and so it limits information gathering to only that which supports its thesis. Instead of an open and childlike wisdom gathering, many adult minds are limited and dull. With regard to healthy brains, this dullness is a choice.

 

Isolation, Habit, and Self-Limiting Patterns keep us locked in cycles of ignorance.

Albert Einstein’s brain was ordinary in size and structure, but it had a profound synaptic receptivity—an openness to learn, notice, and connect. During his lifetime, Einstein’s ordinary mind had developed an extraordinary amount of neural connections. Is genius was making connections others missed. His mind had developed a willingness to learn.  We often lose this willingness. We replace connection with isolation and curiosity with self-limiting beliefs, compulsions, and habits. We look for answers we believe we already know, filtering reality through prejudice and bias. But the remedy is right in front of us. Literally. Here in the unspecial ordinary moments of life. By training the mind to notice even the inconsequential things, we are connecting to life itself, as it is. The mind loves connection. It learns and accumulates knowledge, but it is the ability to connect to new things, new ideas, new moments that physically develops its structure. This keeps it young, regardless of chronology.

A fundamental tenet of recovery from substance addiction is connection versus isolation. Isolation breeds addictive behavior, which further isolates us. This applies to all of us, regardless of substance use.  Attachment to habitual thinking and compulsive behaviors closes the mind’s receptivity. When we over-stimulate certain neural pathways through repetitive behavior, the options around those pathways begin to atrophy. Our world becomes narrow, centered on hunger, fear, and the constant search for comfort. The trajectory of this mind’s development is toward dullness and depression. Chogyam Trungpa referred to this trajectory as heading toward the “setting sun” as opposed to the rising sun of awakening.

This is neurosis: isolation that absorbs our attention and keeps us from noticing reality; birds building nests, clouds moving across the sky, or squirrels in frantic mating dances. We are drawn into fantasies, believing self-limiting stories: that enlightenment is beyond us and that the beauty of the world is unavailable until we sort the papers on our desk. A setting sun mind remains frightened, hungry, and disconnected.

 

Training Synaptic Receptivity Through Humble Openness 

Recovery from isolation is possible. It has been proven that an act of surrender, originating in desperation and defeat, can grow into ongoing acts of opening. This can be to actively thwart ego’s acquisitiveness and developing its inquisitiveness.  Instead of grabbing onto fantasies, we turn our mind to what’s here. Magic happens in the small ordinary places we are often too self-important to notice. As meditators, we employ the repetitive, simple behaviors to frustrate ego and retrain the mind to be here with what is; the breath, the body, the moment.  We are turning the mind to be inquisitive about life beyond the cushion. By directing our minds to see life as it is, we are positioned to see what we are becoming. We are facing the rising sun of possibility.  We train ourselves to be open, perceiving without bias, as if we were a pure lens, opening to the sacredness of ordinary moments.

In Meditation, each time we see ourselves caught in fantasy, we are strengthening our capacity to recognize what the mind is doing. Without judgment, we simply notice and return to the present. This choice to return builds neural pathways for connection and wakefulness. Recognition and returning render intentionality and agency. Realizations come and go, but our life is all around us, offering countless moments to build connectivity. Coming back to the present—even to the simple presence of the breath, our body, or our feet on the ground—builds the openness needed to experience the grand possibilities of mind.

To develop synaptic receptivity, we need connection. Connection to the breath, to the moment, to the ordinary magic of life around us. We learn to see the world, like Einstein did, as something to be part of, not to grab or conquer. When we have the humility to open to each moment, as it is, we discover that the beauty of the world in every step.

The ordinary becomes the gateway to discovery. This is Magic.

 

Posted on by joseph mauricio

MINDFULNESS: A CONVERSATION WITH NOW

Mindfulness is a word that’s used a lot, perhaps overused, which means it has many permutations and applications. Today I want to talk specifically about  offering our attention to the present in order to soothe and heal ourselves. I’m not talking about the ruler-on-the-knuckles, look-at-your-homework attention. I’m talking about recognizing the connection we have with the earth all the time in everyday life.

When Lord Buddha became enlightened, he was asked how he knew he was enlightened and he touched the earth and said “the earth is my witness.” This act of humility was simple and profound. Enlightenment to the Buddha was not some grand state of all-knowing; it was a state of acquiescence, acceptance, and presence. It was not rising above our circumstance, but simply being here. We can reconnect to that state of presence, everytime we touch the earth by making contact with the present. Feeling our feet on the ground as we walk, feeling our hands touching the knife as we prepare our meal, taking any and every opportunity to interrupt the grand narratives we script with ourselves at the center and allow ourselves to be present with whatever we’re doing. And today I would like to introduce how we might do that in a tactile and definite way. This simple engagement will transform your life.

A practice common to many contemplative traditions is to turn our mind toward connecting to the earth as much as we can, as often as we can. I recommend a second step. Each time we make contact with the present moment we offer ourselves a moment to go beyond the mental assertion of that contact into the felt sense, the feeling, the emotional and experiential connection to what we’re doing. The practice does not need to be lugubrious or overly religious; we need pause only long enough to go past the mental assertion into the felt sense experience.

Paulina Oliveros, the sound shaman and musicologist, would have her students walk around the room slowly enough to fully engage their feet on the earth. Then she would instruct them to “listen” to the earth through their feet. Now, the literal-minded among us might furrow our foreheads on that one, but we’re talking about an experience of allowing. We’re allowing the information of  our contact to the earth to register.

We’re looking at two stages: the contact and then the communication. Feeling our feet on the earth is a very common contemplative practice, but I’m recommending a second stage where  allow ourselves to register whatever information there is in that experience. This is just a matter of holding our attention on the placement of our mind just a tad longer than we would in a normal mindfulness experience.

Some might ask, “how can I do that all day long? I’m busy, I have things to do, I’m important.” Well, so is your life, and actually learning to reprogram the mind to feel and experience your life is quite profound. But as a practical measure, we don’t have to do this constantly. Whenever it occurs to us to do so, or as a practice when we are alone. We come back to the present, feel our feet on the ground, and see if we can’t feel into the experience that we’re receiving.

This two-step process can be seen as a yin and yang application. Yang is the assertive, some say masculine, action, and yin is the receptive or, you could say, feminine action. So while yang places the attention, yin opens and receives the information. During our day, we can place our attention on something in the present and then receive and register that placement. This has a very soothing effect on the mind and body.  This soothing is quite transformative.

Doing this practice in retreat, I changed my mind configuration entirely. This very simple process might seem very ordinary, but is actually quite profound. It is certainly mood-altering and can allow us to stabilize the energy of our inner being.

 

Let’s test out a practical approach:

Come into a settled state. You don’t have to be in a deep meditative state, just generally be here. Place your hand gently but intentionally on your thigh.

  • There are two stages: we’re placing the hand, that’s Yang, and then give a moment to let Yin mind register whatever comes back to you. What comes back might be informational, such as the bottom of my hand is warm, while the top is cooler. It might be emotional, such as I feel connected to myself. Or it may have no words whatsoever and simply be an experience. Of the various ways that contact registers, this wordless state may be the most profound.
  • Now take your other hand and place it on your chest. Be mindful of how it feels. You may have a physical response, an emotional connection or you may have a wordless connection simply experiencing the contact. Or you may have all 3 levels; body (wordless), spirit (emotional), mind (informational). In any case, avoid scripting stories and having judgements about the experience. Just be with the contact.
  • You could gently drop your hands and just become aware of that. Then place your mindful attention gently but definitely on your feet. Then allow a moment for yin mind to receive the fullness of that contact. You might feel something, you might have an emotional reaction, or you may have nothing but an elongated sense of contact. In any case, you are changing your brain.
  • Now stop, shake out, and just drop back to your normal listening posture and smile. Give yourself a really big smile.

Applied mindfulness is allowing yourself to feel your moment, your hands, your feet, your seat and all the contact points to the earth. And know you are being held by the earth, loved by the earth, and that you are part of the earth.

Welcome back.

 

Posted on by joseph mauricio

ANXIETY

 

FACING THE FACELESS DREAD 

Ugh, I’m anxious. I’m so busy and sometimes everything wants my focus. This feeling makes me want to fix change or medicate … uh, something. Something unsettling I can’t identify. Like I’m waiting for an existential jump scare. Washing dishes is good at times like this. Hahaha – but I can’t bring my kitchen sink whenever I get anxious.

So, what is really going on when I feel this unsettling faceless electric dread? Let’s look at it.

Anxiety is a future-oriented state of apprehension in response to perceived threat, uncertainty, or potential negative outcomes. It differs from fear, which responds to immediate danger we can see and touch. Anxiety is fear directed toward unseen speculation, leaving us without a clear framework for resolution.

In anxiety, our nervous and endocrine systems are on high alert without a definable cause. We become cut off, alone, in a state of amplified readiness, scanning for danger that isn’t clear.

At its base, anxiety is natural, it evolved as a survival mechanism that heightens vigilance and prepares us to fight, flight, or freeze. Aside from being a neuro-alert system, it can direct mental focus and enhance performance. When I teach to businesses in the city, I remind people that a touch of anxiety likely drew them to this fast-paced life. As a performer, I’ve learned that a bit of stage fright sharpens focus and presence.

However, chronic anxiety can harm us deeply. It enlarges the amygdala increasing reactivity, shrinks the hippocampus impairing memory and emotional regulation, disrupts the prefrontal cortex, making it harder to calm ourselves, and dysregulates the nervous system causing tension, digestive issues, and sleep disturbances. These affects create a feedback loop between the mind and our nervous system feeding itself with catastrophic thinking, rumination, and the urge to control the uncontrollable.

So how can we train the body/mind system to work with anxiety, so it can guide us without taking control.

Anxiety, Self-Harm, and Compulsions

When anxiety triggers us, we look for an escape like a wild animal. We often reach for habits that soothe in the short term, but ultimately leave us vulnerable and deflated. As a rule, unconscious behaviors ultimately entrench suffering. We might pick our skin, pull our hair, clench our jaw, overeat, drink to numb, or compulsively scroll. Each action offers a brief relief from the discomfort but often creates guilt, physical pain, or more anxiety, trapping us in a loop.

These habits are attempts to manage the unbearable energy of anxiety in the body. They are signals that we need to pause, return to the present, and tend to the body and mind directly, rather than seeking to escape.

Pause before you Act on Anxiety

One of the most helpful rules I’ve learned is to Never act on anxiety.

When we feel anxious, there is an urge to fix, flee, or figure out what went wrong. We want to act, to get rid of the discomfort. But action from anxiety often perpetuate further anxiety, leading to impulsive decisions or words we regret.

Instead, just pause. Allow the anxiety to be there, look at it without feeding it. Then check your body. Are you ready to jump out of your skin? Clenching your fists or jaw? Tapping your feet? On the edge of your seat ready to start doom scrolling at the meeting?

When we pause, we shift from reacting to observing, from doing to being.

The Practice: Stop, Drop, Open

🪐 STOP:

When you notice anxiety, pause. Cut the loop of feeding your brain and having it frighten you in return.  Acknowledge anxiety’s presence. Feel your feet on the ground. If you are walking down the street, rather than speeding up to outrun the discomfort, turn you mind to include the body, slow your pace, and rejoin yourself.

🌿 DROP:

Drop your attention from the spiraling thoughts into your body and breath. Notice the sensations: tightness in the chest, clenching in the belly, tension in the shoulders. Take three slow, deep breaths, lengthening the exhale on each breath to signal safety to your nervous system.

If you are at your desk feeling anxious, take a breath and notice the chair beneath you, the sensation of your hands resting, your feet on the floor. Let your awareness drop fully into your body.

🪶 OPEN:

Once you have paused and acknowledged the body, allow your breath to soften the areas of tension. Breathe into the tightness with warmth, like comforting a frightened child or a barking dog. Anxiety is the body trying to protect a frightened part of you; so treat it with kindness or you will only make things worse. Boycott judgement. Dont think about “relaxing”. Just open and become aware.

Opening means allowing the breath to flow fully and letting the body gradually release its grip. You can place a hand on your heart or belly, reminding yourself:

“I’m here with you.”

When our mind and body are present, we are more complete, as though we’ve returned home. There may be fear, but we can handle it together.

This practice counters the cycle of anxiety feeding on itself. By not acting from anxiety, by stopping, dropping, and opening, you shift from reactive patterns to responsive presence. You do not have to get rid of anxiety to learn to live with it.  Just remember it’s stories are never real. Drop the narrative  and feel.

Welcome home.