Why you? Why not? Life is sacred—for everyone, not just monks and mystics. But to feel it and see it, there are things you can do, things that bring out the wonder and connectedness of everything in life. It begins with your intention, looking in. And it’s furthered by your attention, looking out.
One of the gurus I went to hear in the seventies was a man known simply as Stephen, who started a commune known as “The Farm.” His teaching I remember most was this: Attention is energy. What you put your attention into, you get more of. He meant it literally too, giving a whole new meaning to “What you see is what you get.”
At the same time, attention requires openness: open eyes, open mind. Being open to the sacred allows you to recognize it when it appears.
And finally, attention means pay attention. On Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, a ram’s horn called the shofar is blown for all to hear. Its piercing sound is meant to wake us up—to life, to who we are, to how we want to be.
And so, with intention and attention, I started writing this book. And the more I wrote, the more recipes I found, and the happier and more radiant my life and I became. What I didn’t become was much of a cook. Like Mom, I’m the roast-a-chicken type, and the recipes I’ve written are that simple, with most of them passed on through stories.
So here they are . . .
So here they are, my recipes for a sacred life: some from family and friends, some from teachers and writers, some made up along the way . . . but all tested, tried, and true. They lift me up when I’m feeling down, help me look out when I’m focused within, and lead me back to my center, the moment, and the joy of a sacred life.
I’m sure there are many here that you already know and just needed to be reminded of (writing them down helped remind me). Some are old-fashioned things your parents did or you once did and then forgot. Some will seem just right, while others you might not like at all, and that’s okay (if you don’t like fish, don’t make fish for dinner). But what I hope is this: that you find a few that will add to the wonder, love, and sacredness of your life.
Those are the ones to follow. Those are the ones to keep.
Part One
BASIC
INGREDIENTS
It’s the basics, the footwork,
the where to begin . . .
A GOOD DAY TO DIE . . . OR NOT
Our culture is not too keen on death and dying. Truth is, neither am I. Perhaps I’d be more open if we could end our days by just fading into the night—after a great dinner with folks we love. I also find death much more acceptable on days when I’m feeling immortal than on days when I’m wondering, with anxiety, why I still have that peculiar pain.
This lapse of faith leads me to read many books about the cycles of life and death. Then I study other cultures that seem to have a deeper awareness of this sacred circle, like the Native Americans. When Chief Crazy Horse went into battle, he proclaimed, “It’s a good day to die!” Some American Indians still say it, every day, to be ready for death and to live their best life.
So I started saying it myself in my morning salutations, after blessing the sun, the earth, and all around me. And when I open my arms wide and look out at the sky and mountains, I often feel it: It is a good day. A good day to die. To merge with the universe and see what comes next. I especially feel it on blue-sky days when the crows are squawking and the trees are in bloom. Yes, I think, if I have to die, this would be a good day for it. (Notice I’m still using the “if”?)
Then, one morning, while my eighty-something mother was visiting from Philadelphia, she came out on the patio and sat down nearby, just as I was doing my morning “hellos” to the world. She regards my diverse spiritual practices with some bemusement, but tries not to intrude when I’m at it. Still, she’s also curious, which spurred her to move closer to hear.
“Hello to the birds and the deer,” I said, arms open wide.
“Don’t forget the squirrels,” Mom interrupted.
“Hello to the flowers, bushes, and trees.”
“You have some beautiful trees,” Mom said. “Really.” Finally, I spread my arms even wider and announced,
“It’s a good day to die!”
“Well,” Mom chirped in, “it’s not a bad day to live either.”
She had a point. So now I end my blessings like this:
“It’s a good day to die!” I say.
And then, with gusto, “It’s a good day to live!”
THE WHERE TO BEGIN
Deepak Chopra is known for his many books of guidance. The one I like best and keep at my bedside is The Seven Spiritual Laws of Success. It’s a small book with short chapters that tell it like it is: Do this and you’ll get that. And if you follow his advice, what you’ll get is “harmony with nature,” “success in every endeavor,” and “an experience of the miraculous.” Not bad.
In chapter 1, Chopra presents the first law, “The Law of Pure Potentiality.” Here, he shows us how to create the openness that can lead to fulfillment. It’s a simple recipe—only four things to do daily—and when I first read it, it seemed easy:
Have a time of silence and stillness when you do nothing at all. (Sounds good!)
Meditate. (Check!)
Spend some time in nature—say, watching the moon rise—and feel the beauty and perfection of the universe. (Got it!)
Practice non-judgment throughout the day, beginning with an intention like “Today, I will not judge.” (Right!)
Ready to go, I began meditating on a daily basis, even if only for five minutes. I also remembered
