tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33478304960069817042024-03-12T19:02:11.655-07:00Learning to News | Occasional Reflections on LivingExploring what it means to live more fully, 'Learning to News’ shares ongoing reflections from Neil McKinlay’s life. Considering meditation, personal discovery, and everything else, ‘Learning to News’ explores the rich ground where everyday life and human spirituality intersect.
A longtime student of Dr. Reggie Ray, Neil works as a meditation instructor, personal coach, and intuitive guide and healer. He is also a father, husband, reader, and Bob Dylan fan - among other things.Neil McKinlayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09349957109453721481noreply@blogger.comBlogger41125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3347830496006981704.post-1306541486380355652014-02-08T22:28:00.001-08:002014-02-08T22:28:31.883-08:00Things Have Changed - Not
I am officially, unreservedly, unashamedly in love with Bob Dylan’s Super Bowl commercial. The YouTube version of this spot has, within seven days of its initial airing, earned close to eight million views; I personally have accounted for at least a dozen of this number.
The two minute piece aired during the third quarter of Seattle’s dismantling of Denver’s Broncos, by which point much of Neil McKinlayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09349957109453721481noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3347830496006981704.post-91977638150153421482013-11-01T16:46:00.001-07:002013-11-01T16:46:32.927-07:00The Next Step
How do I write what I don’t want to write?
These words have been lingering almost a year. The question invites me forward and, feeling their pull, I retract again and again. Just look at this blog; the most recent post is eleven months old. In the year prior to this, more than thirty pieces appeared. This is a sudden and dramatic downturn.
Life is not a neutral force. She is active, Neil McKinlayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09349957109453721481noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3347830496006981704.post-11711766661052625782012-11-13T21:26:00.000-08:002012-11-13T21:26:52.581-08:00Even In This
There is heart in this world. This is inherent, a given. It weaves through the fabric of experience like a precious, sentient thread. Whatever the situation, it is there and we know it. We sense it. We feel this in numerous ways - hurt, loss, tenderness, affection - the most fundamental appearance of heart in our lives, however, is love.
It is so easy to miss. I have a bad day, a difficult Neil McKinlayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09349957109453721481noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3347830496006981704.post-2789228277796239332012-11-08T10:07:00.001-08:002012-11-08T10:07:29.925-08:00Still I Have Not Meditated
A scene from several days ago. Morning sun floats into the kitchen. I stand, hips against the counter, hands immersed in warm, soapy water. It’s mostly quiet now; the silence that follows Caren and Samantha’s departing. I can feel it elsewhere, too. A sense of stillness outside after the hurry of others to school, to work - to somewhere, always. To somewhere.
I’m washing dishes left by the Neil McKinlayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09349957109453721481noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3347830496006981704.post-15488733534234011132012-11-04T14:33:00.000-08:002012-11-04T14:33:00.940-08:00I Feel So Different
A feeling like flight and me wanting out. Out of this moment. Out of this body. Out of this life. The tension born of this want grabs at the throat, the chest, the belly, reducing my ability to speak and breathe and eat. Elsewhere I have described life as a dance; these last few days this life, my life, has felt more like something out of Fight Club - me struggling for mastery over a foe that Neil McKinlayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09349957109453721481noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3347830496006981704.post-48586491333596327882012-10-24T22:25:00.001-07:002012-10-24T22:25:59.613-07:00A World Reborn
I’ve left the element on.
More and more this is what it feels like. I might be halfway down the street when the image appears: a metal coil burning red-hot in one corner of a faintly clean white stovetop. I try to convince myself it’s unlikely. Steeling my jaw, I force first one leg and then the other into my sense of its next step. The image has a pull like gravity, though. And this beginsNeil McKinlayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09349957109453721481noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3347830496006981704.post-7651515347731774152012-10-15T15:01:00.000-07:002012-10-15T15:01:01.341-07:00This Whole Life
An interesting thing happened in 1971. The Canadian Radio-Television and Telecommunications Commission (CRTC) began to require that all radio stations in this country devote a certain percentage of their playlists to Canadian content - material that had been written, produced, and/or performed by citizens of this nation.
Prior to this decision, such material was considered more a quaint Neil McKinlayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09349957109453721481noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3347830496006981704.post-21643762875441248492012-10-07T10:40:00.001-07:002012-10-07T10:40:10.419-07:00Contemplation 2
What follows is a short and by no means definitive contemplation on another of the ‘note cards’ that have appeared in my life of late. For a little more on these cards click here. For instructions on how to engage the practice of contemplation yourself, click here. I hope you enjoy.
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Sing to the mountain
“Thank you”
The world echoes
We are joined in love. What we consider ‘Neil McKinlayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09349957109453721481noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3347830496006981704.post-43030471693598961032012-10-05T12:17:00.000-07:002012-10-05T12:20:52.165-07:00One Day Later
One day later. My ipod is out, buds rest in each ear. The tiny screen before me glows, telling me what’s playing. I know this, though. It’s Dido, again. ‘White Flag’ for the second or third time. I feel like crap.
Yesterday was a gift. It was as if a moment of grace opened in all directions and swallowed me whole. In Amazing Grace Kathleen Norris writes of one such moment: “God’s response toNeil McKinlayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09349957109453721481noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3347830496006981704.post-43506771807909187992012-10-02T22:31:00.001-07:002012-10-02T22:31:06.367-07:00This Life Is Good
“I will go down with this ship
And I won’t put my hands up and surrender.
There will be no white flag above my door.
I’m in love and always will be.”
- Dido, ‘White Flag’
I step outside and know I’m not going. The sky is clear glass and the air sharp with autumn’s edge. Their touch as I come into the evening is a caress. Stroking a cheek, grazing my heart, the intimacy brings a sigh, Neil McKinlayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09349957109453721481noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3347830496006981704.post-65265158855831780082012-10-02T09:59:00.000-07:002012-10-02T09:59:11.161-07:00Contemplation 1
Over the last few years, a number of fully formed verses have come into my life. Because of how these show themselves - three lines in length, most appearing upon small, rectangular cards - I often describe them as ‘note cards’. Because the content of these tends to provide guidance on living in a fuller, more open way I also refer to them as ‘warrior cards’.
For a long while I thought Neil McKinlayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09349957109453721481noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3347830496006981704.post-36688309692439152622012-10-02T09:47:00.001-07:002012-10-02T09:47:28.997-07:00How to Contemplate
“Who understands the inner meaningAnd how can I come to the same understanding?”- NaropaHow do we come to “the inner meaning”? Most our lives are occupied with surface meanings - pat answers and shared understandings that have little resonance, little ability to shake us up and transform. The lineage of Chogyam Trungpa - whose stream of descent flows directly through the great scholar Naropa -Neil McKinlayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09349957109453721481noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3347830496006981704.post-19335394498605212642012-09-26T22:00:00.001-07:002012-09-26T22:00:36.026-07:00The Old Ways
It’s late and I don’t feel ready for sleep. This day’s been a tough one - long with powerful undercurrents of dissatisfaction eddying through its minutes and hours. Feeling sorry for myself, I see a lot wrong in my lot. ‘If only...’ has become a mantra through much of this. ‘If only...’ I brood again and again. You can pretty much fill in the blank following these words; not much has been Neil McKinlayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09349957109453721481noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3347830496006981704.post-48738130994448862452012-09-12T21:47:00.000-07:002012-09-12T21:47:19.534-07:00Ordinary People
“Because of ordinariness, magic is possible.”
- Chogyam Trungpa
One thing I appreciate about the films of Mike Leigh is the ordinariness of his characters. Even when living through unusual circumstances, Leigh’s subjects in movies like Vera Drake, Career Girls, and Secrets and Lies are everyday people. That the director invariably casts actors who, to all appearances, share these Neil McKinlayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09349957109453721481noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3347830496006981704.post-31227768393263653382012-07-24T12:15:00.000-07:002012-07-24T12:15:17.470-07:00Do the Training, Welcome the Opportunities
Our household has no cable access. One of many pleasures that has come to our household as a result of this fact is the experience of exploring the local library for DVDs. Wandering up and down the stacks, all three of us has allowed ourselves to drift, have our attention drawn by a colorful spine, a recalled title, an unexpected shiver. This process has brought home shows I’m sure not one of Neil McKinlayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09349957109453721481noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3347830496006981704.post-38058251280125318352012-07-19T16:00:00.002-07:002012-07-19T16:00:34.201-07:00Let Myself SingMy daughter bounced home from singing class. “We listened to ‘Mister Postman’!” she exclaimed, energy bubbling through her features. She had stopped walking in order to tell me this and could barely contain her excitement. In fact, she couldn’t - standing there, her feet shuffled and arms swayed as if music were pulsing through her bloodstream, pumping from her heart.
Her mention of this Neil McKinlayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09349957109453721481noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3347830496006981704.post-12522973988147340522012-07-09T15:49:00.004-07:002012-07-09T15:49:57.201-07:00A More Positive Message“I would think,” someone said to me recently, “you would want to send a more positive message.” He was referencing my writing of late which, while addressing a considerable range of topics and themes, has returned again and again to the difficult: abuse, trauma, depression.
Given this recurrent subject matter, I can understand where my companion was coming from. On the surface, not one of Neil McKinlayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09349957109453721481noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3347830496006981704.post-2834967488357986682012-06-12T14:01:00.000-07:002012-06-12T14:01:20.910-07:00Sacred Depression?
It seems a good question. Depression has been a recurrent companion these last months. Given this frequency of appearance, it seems fair - perhaps even incumbent upon me - to ask, to put Chogyam Trungpa’s assertion to test with this painfully familiar experience. Is depression sacred?
I have to admit no immediate answer here. Is depression sacred? I just don’t know. What might that Neil McKinlayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09349957109453721481noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3347830496006981704.post-52689800662424287652012-06-06T14:28:00.000-07:002012-06-06T14:28:04.284-07:00Three Reasons For Parents
I occasionally write for a local magazine entitled Island Parent. It's fun putting pen to paper for a family-oriented audience. Family is, after all, where I spend a great deal of my time and do much reflecting on the meditative journey. Creating something for Parent also has an element of challenge to it. How can I communicate something real about Neil McKinlayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09349957109453721481noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3347830496006981704.post-75934359188562550662012-05-25T12:20:00.000-07:002012-05-25T12:20:57.087-07:00Chimes of Maitri Flashing
Interesting things have been happening in my meditation practice. I am speaking specifically of my ongoing work with maitri, a term which can be translated as 'unconditional friendliness'. When doing maitri practice, we open our hearts and hold a difficult aspect of ourselves in loving warmth. Rather than push away or fight to alter a sense of personal impoverishment, for instance. we all thisNeil McKinlayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09349957109453721481noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3347830496006981704.post-75614725427146288222012-05-23T22:07:00.000-07:002012-05-23T22:07:45.361-07:00Truth and Reconciliation
One of the things that attracts me most to the teachings Chogyam Trungpa is his insistence all life is sacred. In this view, whatever we are doing - cooking, cleaning, shopping, lovemaking, fighting, gardening, working, playing - whatever we are doing holds the power of wakefulness. When fully embraced, all our lives contain within them the appropriate and necessary opportunities we need to Neil McKinlayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09349957109453721481noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3347830496006981704.post-22952792915182003152012-04-24T12:27:00.000-07:002012-04-24T12:27:58.282-07:00Finding Your BeautySynergy Magazine is a Nanaimo-based publication intended to promote the exchange of ideas and inspiration between like-minded individuals. A friend first pointed Synergy out to me; I was impressed to find something like this so close to home. I prepared a short piece for their March/April issue and had it accepted. As always, I hope you enjoy the read:
My daughter had an interesting way with ‘Neil McKinlayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09349957109453721481noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3347830496006981704.post-74364658264935955752012-04-17T18:38:00.000-07:002012-04-17T18:38:13.413-07:00Swept Up In The WindIn many ways, Tanis was typical. She walked into our first class with no meditation experience at all. “I’ve read a little in magazines,” she claimed. “Heard people say things.” By class four in the series, however, she was arriving early. Whisking into the room with a smile lifting her features, she spoke excitedly while setting up her cushion. “I’ve been looking forward to this for days!”
AsNeil McKinlayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09349957109453721481noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3347830496006981704.post-29184598907354450402012-03-19T14:58:00.000-07:002012-03-19T14:58:37.099-07:00Emptiness on E Street“And the poets down here
Don’t write nothing at all,
They just stand back
And let it all be.”
- Bruce Springsteen, 'Jungleland'
On the evening of Friday March 9th, Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band played Harlem’s Apollo Theater. Arguably the most famous music hall in the United States, the Apollo holds a significant place in the careers of Ella Fitzgerald, Billie Holiday, the Supremes, Neil McKinlayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09349957109453721481noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3347830496006981704.post-13363735264321726352012-03-13T13:00:00.000-07:002012-03-13T13:00:05.906-07:00The Practice of Not PracticingI haven’t meditated in three days and I feel guilty as hell. While revealing in a great many ways, this is not a particularly helpful attitude. Feeling bad about my recent lack of practice, the fact becomes something I want to hide. I want to put distance between the two of us and have already come up with several strategies that might achieve this aim. ‘I’ll meditate more than usual,’ I tell Neil McKinlayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09349957109453721481noreply@blogger.com0