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It was 1985, and just in time for puberty I got some good lessons on the power of Love. I learned that you don’t need money, that it don’t take fame, and furthermore, that you don’t need no credit card to ride this train. However, like pretty much everyone else, I still got stuck on the idea that Love is (1) what you’re obligated to feel for your family members, or (2) the fortuitous result of circumstances being just right.
Given that it’s pretty much the best feeling in the world and one of the prime motivators of human behavior, it’s unfortunate that we often tend to think of Love as an elusive thing. Something to be chased and held onto tightly, something that can be taken away. And, sadly, certainly not something we can experience at will.
Being immersed in a world in which the idea of looking for Love is so prevalent, it’s been hard to break myself of the habit of thinking this way. But I no longer believe it’s true.
About 15 years ago, I was at a meditation retreat, and every once in a while the facilitator would ask a question. No verbal response was required . . . the question was just meant to sink into the consciousness of the participants. One of the questions was, “What is your greatest power?” Whereas most of the questions spurred a stream of thoughts, and sometimes the hope that I had come up with the “right” answer, this one hit me differently. My mind didn’t have a chance because my heart answered immediately. It said, “Love.” And I had a sense that this wasn’t just my greatest power, it was our greatest power.
Maybe you’re thinking, “Why should I care about the realization that you say came out of your heart at some woo-woo meditation retreat? Speak for yourself – my greatest power is that I can shoot fire out of my eyes.” Yeah, yeah. I know what comes out of my heart isn’t as credible as a double blind study in a peer reviewed journal. And if you thought that was woo-woo, let me give you a little perspective. Part of my training in Chinese Medicine was to learn qigong – the art of perceiving, manipulating, and cultivating life energy (Qi). After years of playing with Qi, you don’t question it when your heart talks to you.
Anyway, I’m not asking you to take my word for it, but please hear me out. In the years since then, I’ve kept listening to my heart and I’ve learned a little about Love. I still have a ways to go in terms of living in accordance with what I’ve learned, but I know enough to point others in the right direction. So, here it is.
First, we think of Love way too much as a noun. And Huey Lewis, bless his heart, didn’t help break of this habit. We like to treat Love as a thing. To be deserved, to be earned, to be won, and to be lost.
Love can be a noun – in that it’s a quality of being – but in my experience, it has nothing to do with deserving or winning. Love just IS. Love is our native state. It’s who we are. We can pile on so many beliefs and affectations that we lose sight of it, but we can’t change this most fundamental fact. Our minds may get confused and put conditions upon Love. But Love is always there, within us, able to be accessed at any moment, even when it seems utterly far away.
Now for the verb form of Love. This is where our power comes in. To Love is what we were born to do. Love is an expansion. Love never excludes. And the more we embrace this notion, the richer our life becomes.
The function of a confused mind is to separate everything. When you have the honor of spending time with children you notice how they (especially the tiny ones) haven’t learned to separate everything into countless discrete entities. And when you really see this in them, it’s awesome. Not just because it’s so beautifully uncontrived, but because you know you used to be that way.
But we teach them to separate, with names and labels, and we place such importance on it that Love is a natural casualty of the process. With a million separate words and ideas, and billions of separate people, it’s understandable that we’d think that Love, too, is separate from us.
Maybe you use the word God for what I am calling Love, but I think we’re talking about the same thing, and the same sense of separation between God and themselves exists in the minds of most people who use the word God. When we believe that God, or Love, or whatever word you like, is something separate from us, it becomes a conditional thing in our lives. And we invent the conditions that preside over that relationship.
But, not only is Love not separate from us, Love itself is the mender of separation. Love fills in the gaps that create separation. Like a warm ocean waiting on the other side of the door, the moment we open the places we’ve restricted, Love rushes in, saturating all the parts of ourselves and the world that we haven’t accepted, and in so doing, unites what we tried to separate.
So, I urge you to Love as a verb. When we take deserving out of the equation, we’re suddenly surrounded by an infinite array of Love-worthy people, plants, animals, and stars. And also Love-worthy dirt, garbage, and smog, by the way.
Try silently saying “I Love you” to the person bagging your groceries, to the person who just cut you off and made you miss your exit, to the person on the tech support line who tells you, “I’m going to have you turn off your phone and then turn it back on. Maybe that will fix it.”
But don’t forget about the person whose body you’re renting. That character has been doing so much misguided stuff to get more Love, and all along you had the power to unleash it upon yourself. Go for it.
Love,
Dr. Peter Borten
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Last week Briana and I had a deeply gratifying experience. We led the first training of our advanced life coaches – we call them “Illuminators” – and it went amazingly well. They really lived up to their name.
Even before we developed the curriculum we had a sense that these people would be “emissaries of light” – shining light into their communities, seeing the light in their clients and calling it forth.
They were already a bunch of bright souls when they arrived, but the processes we did together helped them shed whatever veils may have been dimming their light, and they were truly luminous by the end of our time together. The biggest overall shift for the group probably happened during the breath work we did together – a technique known as “conscious breathing.”
Through simply breathing into all parts of themselves, many of our students were able to gain clarity on longstanding problems or release decades of pain. Some asked how it was possible that such dramatic transformation could be possible just through breathing. First, it’s worth pointing out that there were a few other factors: There was a safe, loving space being held by Briana and me, by our helpers, and by all the participants. There was an atmosphere of trust and an intention to heal and grow. There was music. (We should never underestimate the power of music to affect us and promote opening.) These factors amounted to a ritual – a container with a stated purpose – rather than just a bunch of people breathing.
Finally, there was the breath itself. To me, it makes perfect sense that we should all possess a profound tool for healing. The way we breathe can alter our circulation. It can change our thinking and shift our mood. It can alleviate pain. It can open our awareness to parts of ourselves that we’ve kept hidden. Plus, it’s free and it’s always available.
This is an especially good time of year to remember your breath because autumn is the season associated with the lungs in Chinese Medicine. It’s also a phase when we’re prompted to let go, like all the trees around us. Fall is such an apt name, since the sun falls to a lower arc in the sky, the leaves fall, and there’s a natural decline of light and energy around us. It’s common to feel a little somber at this time. But if we stay mindful and don’t cling to what’s changing – instead just breathing through it, watching it, feeling it without resistance, noticing its beauty – it can be a graceful process that helps us to go deep inside ourselves. During a period that may seem like a loss, there’s an opportunity to become keenly aware of what can never be lost. And every breath offers the same opportunity.
So, the next time you’re struggling with an unpleasant thought or emotion, I encourage you to try breathing into it. Take just a minute to drop into your body. While focusing on this thought or emotion, see what feeling arises in your body. Invite it to be here, even if it’s unpleasant. Try to get a sense of its shape, its weight, perhaps even its color or texture, and then take a breath into that feeling. Imagine it inflating and deflating with your breath. Stay with it for a few breaths and notice what happens. Does it change? Does it call you to look at something within yourself? Can you be brave and see where it takes you?
If you have a little more time, you could try taking ten to twenty connected breaths into whatever pain or problem is on your mind. It’s sort of like a mini-cleanse. Lie down on your back without a pillow. Set an intention to open this issue and receive clarity on it – or just to be energized and cleansed.
Inhale fully, letting the breath fill your belly first and then your chest. At the end of the inhale, without pausing, let the breath immediately fall out of your lungs (rather than pushing it out). At the end of the exhale, again without pausing, immediately start the next inhale (belly to chest). When you’ve inhaled fully, without pausing, let the breath immediately fall out of your lungs again. And so on. As you breathe, imagine that you’re drawing light or universal life energy into yourself, pulling it deep into every cell, into all parts of your consciousness, and into any hidden nooks and crannies.
This style of breathing is called “connected breathing” because each inhale is connected to the next exhale, which is connected to the next inhale, without any pausing or holding. You can do this form of breathing either through your nose or your mouth. Mouth breathing tends to be stronger, and may have a greater ability to help you access old information and emotions. If you don’t feel comfortable doing that on your own, have a friend join you, or stick to nose breathing. After ten to twenty breaths, return to normal breathing. Since you’ll be hyperventilating, it’s possible to feel a little woozy, so stay reclined until the feeling passes. Notice what shifts or arises as a result of this opening process. Are there parts of you calling for even more opening, or even more light?
Meanwhile, during this season of diminishing light, I encourage all of us to consciously notice all the light that remains. When we pay attention to it, it grows. Not just sunlight, lightbulbs, and candles, but also the moments of grace that appear – like the flipping of a light switch that brings insight during a time of confusion. And the luminous people we encounter, who brighten our day. And most importantly, the light within ourselves – our inner Illuminator – that fuels our passion and lets us see through the drama to the deeper story of love throughout our world.
Be well,
Peter
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I had been hearing about an impressive tai chi teacher named Gregory Fong since moving to Portland in 1997. It was about five years later that I convinced Briana to join me one evening and we drove to Chinatown to check out his class. Sifu (“master”) Fong, as everyone called him, was probably not more than about five feet tall, but there was something intimidating about him. He welcomed us warmly, then said, “I have two questions for you. First, do you like pain?”
Do I like pain? What is the appropriate answer here? I mumbled something like, “Maybe if there is a good reason.”
He smiled. “Question two. Do you like to work hard?”
Oh boy. I thought about asking him to define the word “like,” but instead responded with, “I guess?”
He chuckled. “Alright, you don’t know if you like pain or hard work. Just sit down on that chair then.” He pointed to a wooden folding chair against a wall covered with framed portraits of Chinese men. “Rest your hands on your thighs. Don’t lean back. Lift your feet off the floor just high enough for one sheet of paper to fit under them. See you later.” And he walked away for a long time. You can try that right now if you’re sitting.
Years later, having done a lot of hard work and endured much pain in his classes, I reflected that I did in fact like to work hard. I still didn’t like pain, but I had learned the difference between avoiding it versus using it and finding a way through it. And I decided that those two questions are useful preliminaries before almost any endeavor.
They came to mind as I was thinking about the upcoming launch of our Sacred Expansion course. It’s a required program for all of our life coaches, and worthwhile for anyone interested in growing beyond their self-imposed limitations and releasing blocks to having an exceptional life.
In the context of Sacred Expansion, if I were to ask, “Do you like pain?” what I mean is, are you willing to voluntarily experience discomfort as part of discovering what’s holding you back? Are you willing to experience the tension of psycho-spiritual growing pains? Are you willing to be uncomfortable in the short term in order to release the long term discomfort you’ve gotten used to? Are you willing to use your pain to initiate a breakthrough?
As for the question “Do you like to work hard?” what I mean is, are you willing to stick with the work of unraveling your inner knots even when it’s difficult? Are you willing to choose a higher purpose – for instance: freedom, peace, spiritual connection, joy, service to your species and planet – over and over and over? Are you willing to break some habits? Are you willing to challenge your own thoughts? Are you willing to explore parts of yourself you aren’t comfortable with? All of these tasks represent a certain form of work.
By liking hard work, I don’t mean that you get points for having a hard life or that there’s merit in making things unnecessarily difficult. In fact, a core principle Sifu taught was that hard work and peace aren’t mutually exclusive. We can be at ease while simultaneously working our hardest. Regardless of the form that our work takes, there’s no getting around the importance of consistent effort in the direction of our dreams if we want them to come to fruition.
If you’ve even thought, “I know I have greater potential than this” or, “I feel like I’m missing out on my superpowers” or, “If I could release all this baggage, I could finally feel free!” read more about Sacred Expansion. We’d love to have you join us.
Be well,
Peter
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It was 1985, and just in time for puberty I got some good lessons on the power of Love. I learned that you don’t need money, that it don’t take fame, and furthermore, that you don’t need no credit card to ride this train. However, like pretty much everyone else, I still got stuck on the idea that Love is (1) what you’re obligated to feel for your family members, or (2) the fortuitous result of circumstances being just right.
Given that it’s pretty much the best feeling in the world and one of the prime motivators of human behavior, it’s unfortunate that we often tend to think of Love as an elusive thing. Something to be chased and held onto tightly, something that can be taken away. And, sadly, certainly not something we can experience at will.
Being immersed in a world in which the idea of looking for Love is so prevalent, it’s been hard to break myself of the habit of thinking this way. But I no longer believe it’s true.
About 15 years ago, I was at a meditation retreat, and every once in a while the facilitator would ask a question. No verbal response was required . . . the question was just meant to sink into the consciousness of the participants. One of the questions was, “What is your greatest power?” Whereas most of the questions spurred a stream of thoughts, and sometimes the hope that I had come up with the “right” answer, this one hit me differently. My mind didn’t have a chance because my heart answered immediately. It said, “Love.” And I had a sense that this wasn’t just my greatest power, it was our greatest power.
Maybe you’re thinking, “Why should I care about the realization that you say came out of your heart at some woo-woo meditation retreat? Speak for yourself – my greatest power is that I can shoot fire out of my eyes.” Yeah, yeah. I know what comes out of my heart isn’t as credible as a double blind study in a peer reviewed journal. And if you thought that was woo-woo, let me give you a little perspective. Part of my training in Chinese Medicine was to learn qigong – the art of perceiving, manipulating, and cultivating life energy (Qi). After years of playing with Qi, you don’t question it when your heart talks to you.
Anyway, I’m not asking you to take my word for it, but please hear me out. In the years since then, I’ve kept listening to my heart and I’ve learned a little about Love. I still have a ways to go in terms of living in accordance with what I’ve learned, but I know enough to point others in the right direction. So, here it is.
First, we think of Love way too much as a noun. And Huey Lewis, bless his heart, didn’t help break of this habit. We like to treat Love as a thing. To be deserved, to be earned, to be won, and to be lost.
Love can be a noun – in that it’s a quality of being – but in my experience, it has nothing to do with deserving or winning. Love just IS. Love is our native state. It’s who we are. We can pile on so many beliefs and affectations that we lose sight of it, but we can’t change this most fundamental fact. Our minds may get confused and put conditions upon Love. But Love is always there, within us, able to be accessed at any moment, even when it seems utterly far away.
Now for the verb form of Love. This is where our power comes in. To Love is what we were born to do. Love is an expansion. Love never excludes. And the more we embrace this notion, the richer our life becomes.
The function of a confused mind is to separate everything. When you have the honor of spending time with children you notice how they (especially the tiny ones) haven’t learned to separate everything into countless discrete entities. And when you really see this in them, it’s awesome. Not just because it’s so beautifully uncontrived, but because you know you used to be that way.
But we teach them to separate, with names and labels, and we place such importance on it that Love is a natural casualty of the process. With a million separate words and ideas, and billions of separate people, it’s understandable that we’d think that Love, too, is separate from us.
Maybe you use the word God for what I am calling Love, but I think we’re talking about the same thing, and the same sense of separation between God and themselves exists in the minds of most people who use the word God. When we believe that God, or Love, or whatever word you like, is something separate from us, it becomes a conditional thing in our lives. And we invent the conditions that preside over that relationship.
But, not only is Love not separate from us, Love itself is the mender of separation. Love fills in the gaps that create separation. Like a warm ocean waiting on the other side of the door, the moment we open the places we’ve restricted, Love rushes in, saturating all the parts of ourselves and the world that we haven’t accepted, and in so doing, unites what we tried to separate.
So, I urge you to Love as a verb. When we take deserving out of the equation, we’re suddenly surrounded by an infinite array of Love-worthy people, plants, animals, and stars. And also Love-worthy dirt, garbage, and smog, by the way.
Try silently saying “I Love you” to the person bagging your groceries, to the person who just cut you off and made you miss your exit, to the person on the tech support line who tells you, “I’m going to have you turn off your phone and then turn it back on. Maybe that will fix it.”
But don’t forget about the person whose body you’re renting. That character has been doing so much misguided stuff to get more Love, and all along you had the power to unleash it upon yourself. Go for it.
Love,
Dr. Peter Borten
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