We all wish to experience life in terms of expansion, abundance, and growth. However, it is a fact of existence that life naturally also includes its opposite: contraction, loss, and retreat. Much as our hearts and minds want to experience only the positive, sometimes the negative is unavoidable as the circumstances of our lives changes and we rearrange our connections with friends and family.

Big death and little death—elements of change.
Physical death, in particular, is one of those unavoidable events we usually approach in a negative way. Many experts on grief and loss refer to physical death as big death. No one is immortal while in the body. Big deaths are part of our lives over time as we lose loved ones to the inevitable consequences of simply being alive.

We live in a world defined by money and control — at least that’s the world that subconsciously holds sway over our lives for most of us. We have been conditioned to accept that money and control are what make it possible to live a good life, provide for our children, and as the most sought after means to gain recognition and acceptance within our society.

To be sure, having money and control mean having power and influence, and the extremely wealthy often do hold the public’s eye more often than not. Working hand in hand with money is the exercise of control. Money doesn’t mean much if one has no control over external forces. Money is often highly prized as a way of gaining desired control over one’s privacy, life experiences, sense of accomplishment, and emotional fulfillment. We often base our happiness on on money. We often feel hopelessly unfulfilled due to a perceived lack of it.

It wasn’t too many years ago that I found myself on the slopes of a beautiful mountain ski resort, zooming down the run on skis that had no decals on them, using poles with no sign of their maker, wearing clothes with no visible logos sewn onto them, protecting my eyes with goggles that had no branding artfully worked into the fabric of the headstrap.

When I finished my run, I entered the lodge where several, indeed a clear majority of people, were also wearing clothes with little or no corporate labels. There were no vid screens blaring out advertisements for lift tickets, local restaurants, or vacation packages. No ads promoting snow-conquering cars or winter tires.

Continued from Confessions of a Spiritual Couch Potato : Part II: With slight raspberry overtones, this deliciously simple book never fails to leave me with whispers of its sweet after note. It was the perfect complement to the first four courses. I read a few of my favorite passages and settled down for a long overdue session with myself that required only my presence and willingness to sit in silence . . .

Coming out the silence of the fifth course, I gradually became aware, first of my breathing, then my body, and finally the world around me. Soon enough, my head was filled with the usual chitchat that I often likened to a tree full of monkeys arguing with the parrots next door. I caught myself thinking random thoughts about TV, snacks, and my favorite beer.