What I'm Reading: Feel-Good Book Five

When I lived in Washington, DC in the eighties, I met the meditation teacher Stephen Levine at a conference and bought his beautiful book, A Gradual Awakening. "Treasure yourself," he inscribed on the first page. I devoured the practical tips on meditation, the clear explanation of the benefits of becoming aware of "monkey mind" -- the mind's incessant chatter -- and found great joy in the guided meditations sprinkled throughout. 

One hot August day in 1988, I took this book and my lunch to the park at DuPont Circle for my lunch break from my job at the Institute for International Environment and Development. This park, surrounded by a large traffic circle and a magnificent fountain at its center, pulsed with life. Bike messengers, chess and checkers players, homeless people, others on break like me, and passersby filled the walkways and patches of grass.

Seated on a bench, I began to read the guided meditation on opening your heart in loving-kindness. I slowly read the words, "May all beings be happy. May all beings be clear-minded. May their hearts open. Slowly and gently let your love spread to all beings, everywhere."

"May all sentient beings, all feeling beings, may they be free from suffering. May they love themselves. May they come to their happiness. May they uncover the joy of their true self. All beings everywhere. Just let yourself sit in the light of this love, in this caring for yourself, for each other. Don't try to do anything. Just be. In love. In the light. May all beings share in this openness. May everyone experience this spaciousness, this openness of heart. may we all come home to our completeness."

As I read, sitting on the park bench in the summer sun, still wearing a sweater from the cold office, I felt the words crack my heart wide open. I ate my food, a delicious, peanut butter sandwich that I chewed slowly, appreciating deeply. I took in the others at DuPont Circle and loved each and every one, open to their sadness and their joy. I took in the whole city of Washington, DC.

My heart opened out to the country, touching my brothers' lives where they were, and my other relatives and friends. My heart opened out to the Americas -- including my parents who lived in Colombia -- and then to the world. As I meditated, tears of utter bliss streamed down my cheeks. Deeply, amazingly at peace with the whole universe. I saw my part in it, feeling the presence of a powerful force whose language is love.

All too soon, it was time to walk back to work. The world around me seemed to vibrate with life, with love. I felt wide open to others, to everything, deeply grateful for this beautiful life. 

But as hard as I tried to maintain that openness, it slipped away. It's okay, though. I know where to find it again; inside the covers of A Gradual Awakening.

PS My book Courage Without Grace takes place in DC, and Josie spends a lot of time in and around DuPont Circle. Here's Josie.

"For the first time since arriving in DC, I had hope. Pedaling past the many pigeons and bicycle messengers at DuPont Circle, I admired the park's fountain with its chalice-like shape, three sculptures, and low pool. On the Taft Bridge, I snapped pictures of my stone lion friends. The expressions on their regal faces looked pleased, as if they knew things were looking up for me and were glad to play their part. 

 Still giddy with new hope, I turned up my street, standing as I pedaled up the hill. Something rumbled nearby, and I checked behind me. I nearly fell over when I saw the black motorcycle. Dear God, will that man never leave me alone?"

Share Your Lions Here

 In writing my book, Courage Without Grace, I was able to revisit, at least in my mind, some of my favorite things about Washington, DC, and the statues ranked high on that list. Iconic monuments are visited by millions each year (well, maybe not in 2020) and fountains and men on horses can be spotted throughout the capital. Then there are the unobtrusive guardians, like the lions who flank the Taft Bridge. 

From Courage Without Grace: "I crossed Taft Bridge along Connecticut Avenue, high above Rock Creek Park's tall trees and winding road. Four huge statues of lions guarded the bridge: two on each end. I loved seeing their shaggy stone heads uplifted over huge outstretched paws, and called to them each time I walked by. Their magnificence, reminding me of the loftier aspects in life, always lifted my spirits, and I took photos of them often."

The lion pictured here is an original, created in 1906, but the lions in DC now are replacements installed in 2000. They are just as impressive, and I look forward to visiting them during my next trip to DC. 

I'm not sure where my fascination with lions came from, but I see them everywhere. In front of houses and businesses, carved into walls in downtown Pensacola, for sale in stores, the list goes on. We even have a pair of our own. A few years back, my sister-in-law gave them to Chris and me, and they stand in front of our garage gym. I just noticed today, taking this picture, that there are lions carved on the lions! 

When fellow writer Diane Skelton learned about my love for lions, she told me that
the lion is one of the symbols for her husband's fraternity, Sigma Alpha Epsilon. To SAE, "The Lion represents courage, strength, and heart. They are associated with radiant solar energy. In astrology, with the sign Leo, they remind us to take time to relax and bask in the sun and to enjoy the warmth of our accomplishments. Because they live and hunt together, Lions can also symbolize strength in our family and friendship ties." How inspiring is that?!

Do you have a lion in your life? I'd love to see pictures of the lions by your front door, in your neighborhood, or ones you've seen in your travels. I look forward to seeing much more of these symbols of courage, strength, and heart. 

My second novel, Courage Without Grace, will be released online at Amazon.com, BarnesandNoble.com, Kobo Books, Google Play, and iTunes on March 30, 2021. Check out The Existence of Pity here!