Touch and Go helps us meet our thoughts more gently and return our attention to our breath. Touch and Go feels more gentle like a badminton game and less intense like tennis or racquet ball.

Sometimes I feel foolish sitting in meditation when the world is literally on fire or my personal life needs tending. When this happens it helps me to remember that practice helps keep us tender. Towards ourselves, each other. Part of being tender is being open to experiencing what is happening. In our local world, in our global world. We are reminded of our interconnectedness. We are inspired to help create change for the benefit of all.

Arriving to our practice can feel like trying to park a car that's going 70 MPH. Sometimes, we bring a lot of "stuff" to our formal practice. We take out seat and there it is! Sometimes, the stuff we bring has a sense of momentum, speed, and urgency to it. When this happens, it can be helpful to first check in with ourselves. To note feelings, thoughts and overall being-ness. Take a few deep breaths. In this way, we can welcome ourselves with some gentleness, thus setting a softer attitude towards practice and what may be arising.

We are here. We are capable of great things. Practice is not a kind of magic trick but maybe there is something magical in what we discover. For example, that we are not our thoughts.

It's a brave thing to sit in front of our own mind. To STOP. We may find that in taking such a pause some things become more noticeable. For example, the voices in our head. Coming into stillness can help us reconnect with the more wise, kind, and loving voices often muted by louder, more negative ones. We come to remember that we are already good enough, whole and worthy.

Things can be intertwined. Good and bad, sweet and sour. Even our emotions. Certainly, we may have a preference but if we take the view that such things are constantly in relationship with each other then we are more inclined to work with things as they are. Otherwise, we risk throwing out a part of ourselves instead of working with the whole of ourselves.

When we start to work with the habits of our minds we may find a sneaky kind of aggression towards ourselves. The kind that diminishes our confidence, our motivation to try something new. The list could go on....But what if we were to investigate a little? What if we were to question why it is we are so hard on ourselves? What lies beneath these habits?

To begin our seated practice, we are invited to stay. It almost feels counter intuitive given our conditioning to be always on the move. To be constantly narrating the story of our lives, rather than experiencing it. I find a little humor in this instruction. I imagine a race car arriving at the starting line only to then be instructed not to hit the gas and GO!

Our puppy, Nacho, is about to be one-year-old. There was quite a bit of patience, love and training involved. And, much like in our seated practice, the hope is that we are training him in such a way that he enjoys being with us! When we hold our practice and our "puppy" within the cradle of gentleness we meet each other as we are and, in doing so, continue the cultivation of gentleness.

Sometimes we may find we are holding more than allowing. We feel more tension than ease. At such times, it may be helpful to take the view that we can hold our practice within a cradle of gentleness. When we feel physical discomfort, we can gently adjust our posture. When we find ourselves distracted we can gently label the experience "thinking" and return our attention to our breath. When we notice we are being aggressive with ourselves, we can notice that, too, and take a fresh start. There can be strength in being gentle.