The key to Tonglen practice is to recognize the heart as an alchemical vessel where our relationship to our challenges is transformed. As we deepen into this kind of practice we realize we are apprentices of our own, ever-present wisdom.

It sounds romantic. It isn’t. Ask the caterpillar who symbolically surrenders to its own undoing in service to new life. Built into the caterpillar is the signature for transformation. To transform is to change from one form to another. Whether the causes and conditions come together for us to do so is another matter, but the blueprint for transformation lives in each of us.

Autumn is often a symbol of endings, yet I appreciate it as a time of renewal.

Fuzzy plants take flight, seeds and cones tumble from trees, small mammals gather food until the long fingers of spring light return. Mycelial networks spread underground in the dark connecting all manner of forest life together. The rich compost of fruits dying back, rotting leaves, the debris of summer growth all makes for a place where “darkness does its work”.

“Refugia” comes from the world of ecology. Refugia are places that survive the ravages of fires, floods, wind damage, etc. They are places where life not only survives but requires the destruction around them. They thrive on the intensity of the disruption. It’s often how I feel these days: I carry on because of the disruption, not in spite of it.

“If you could accept that perfection is impossible, what would you stop obsessing about?”

Rupi Kaur

A provocative question, yes? This quote appeared just at the moment I was having conversations with people with whom I work, who express themselves and in the most tender ways tell me they are broken. They feel broken if they are struggling in their relationships, or with their health, or in their work life, or their animal lives—something must be wrong and specifically, wrong with them!