Boxing, Breathing and Mindfulness

 

 

In Boxing I am learning how to breath_half

Many people wonder why I box–what is the attraction?

First of all (little secret) it is a terrific workout. In 40 minutes–I am dripping with perspiration and my inner core feels tight. When your sparring is complete, you feel just about every muscle in your body because boxing requires “mindfulness.”

Perfecting the art of boxing necessitates thoughtful timing, coordinated movement and the most important (to me) is breathing. I forget—to breathe.
I work hard, I volunteer with all of my heart, I commit to relationships and I devote to the “callings” of Creator but I forget sometimes to simply breathe. I do not know why I hold my breath but–I do. I hold my breathe during stressful times, I hold my breathe during challenges, I even hold my breathe during the rigor of physical pain. Mindfulness involves focusing on your present situation and state of mind. This can mean awareness of your surroundings, emotions and breathing—or, more beneficially enjoying fully the moment. Boxing has become my Zen.

The most beautiful thing about learning to box is that my son Samuel is teaching me. He is such a patient teacher. He reminds me during our workout “Mom breathe.” “Take a deep breath in and as you throw the punch– breathe out.”
It is important for your physical, spiritual and emotional well-being to breathe. There are many benefits of deep breathing include a reduction in blood pressure and stress, strengthening of abdominal and intestinal muscles and relief of general body aches and pains. Deep breathing also promotes better blood flow, releases toxins from the body and aids in healthy sleep. Samuel taught me that breathing enables me to pull through the 40 minute workout better—more efficiently and truth be told more enjoyably.

My son taught me that every breath I take invigorates the cooperative cellular engagement of my muscles, ligaments and ultimately my strength. Breathing helps me become aware and to focus. My son is teaching me to box so that I can defend myself. I was a victim of a horrendous crime not that long ago –which I am not ready to share until I can fully breathe. I love my workouts with my son. I have learned to breathe again. Breathing helps me to clear my mind; breathing helps me to restore my soul. Breathing helps me to exhale, let go and embrace my full strength.

Breathe,
Elizabeth Asahi Rising Sun Sato

#MINDFULNESS #BREATHING #BOXING #RISETOEXCELLENCE

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ME TOO

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Artwork (c) Still Dancing – Jonathan Labillois, Listuguj Migmaq First Nation Band in Gaspe Quebec

I cannot self-identify without bringing recognition and attention to the thousands of women and female children who have no voice because their voices have been suppressed, shamed and mutilated by societal ignorance, culture, tradition and self-indulgent greed that has not slowed or stopped no matter how devastating the statistics.

So let me be counted with those who are silenced, daily assaulted, abused and murdered simply because of their gender, only because they are women, solely because they are girls and strategically because they are elders—so many– too many silent victims of this horrendous epidemic of misogyny and greed.

My “me too” is for the 1,017+ reported cases of women and girls identified as Indigenous who were murdered between 1980 and 2012—a homicide rate roughly 4.5+ times higher than that of all other women in Canada. There are no statistics for the women who have been crudely buried, missing and dishonored in the manner which they were disposed.

My “me too” is for the 800,000+ women and children who are trafficked across international borders each year housed in cages and filthy apartments some in plain view countless other—not.

My “me too” is for 188,380+ American women who were victims of sexual violence in just a single year

My “me too” is for the 84,767+ assaults defined as forcible rapes according to national statistics from the Federal Bureau of Investigation and those cases ladies and gentlemen are just the ones reported. Why would any woman want to report a crime to a system that turns away from their suffering and pain?

My “me too” is especially for the very elderly, the unidentified victims of sexual assault and rape. The ones the U.S. Department of Justice describes as a subgroup of sexual assault victims—what? A sub-group? The elderly have been “hidden” from view, rarely, if ever, the subject of media attention, generally excluded from public policy designed to manage sex offenders, and neglected by scientists. These are our elders—why should they have to endure such degradation and dishonor in their golden years?

Me too, me too, me too.

I AM the voices of thousands and thousands of women, economically poor and some wealthy, women of all races, women of all academic backgrounds, women who are leaders and healers, women who are educators and doctors, women who are scientists and mothers, women of all sexual orientations and faith perspectives. Women who endure the rigor of bringing life in to the world including the very men who succumb to their own depravity to harm, the sacred giver of life—our women.

I cannot speak of my own pain and suffering unless I bring to light the pain and the suffering of those who have been silenced because I believe there is strength and healing in numbers.

Let us come together and raise our voices in unison for the voices buried and forgotten, for the voices still trapped and secluded.

ME TOO

Elizabeth Asahi Rising Sun Sato

Women in red: A stunning performance of the red dress jingle dancers honors missing women (Video)

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My prayer for Mother Earth

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artwork (c) Aaron Paquette (Metis Nation)

Nature’s birds are my alarm clock. I overslept this morning because I did not hear their song. I usually awaken before sunrise but there were no birds singing, in fact all of the animals were silent. Perhaps it was the dark grey almost black skies filled with smoke and ash. Maybe it was the suffocating atmosphere that has rendered so many of us sentient beings ill.

I opened the shades in the kitchen peering out the window disappointed the smoke had not dissipated. How long will this last? Its been two months of one wildfire after another breaking out in fury exchanging oxygen for dangerous carbons. I filled a glass with clean tap water as I routinely do wondering how long it will be before our water supply is contaminated? I treasured every last drop feeling overwhelmed from all of the recent disasters that seems to be escalating at an exponential clip. I started with my morning devotions lifting in prayers those up who were suffering, anguished and afraid.

In the blink of an eye any one of us could face a hurricane, earthquake, drought, famine, flood or fire.

My soul shuddered. Mother Earth is furious.

We have not heeded her repeated warnings nor respected her delicate balance. She has provided us with bountiful clean water, beautiful lands and pristine lakes to enjoy. Our gorges are filled with inexplicable wonders and our mountains share freely vital resources and joyous respite.

Just how much evidence and how many warnings do we need?

When will we fully comprehend we were choking her oceans with our trash? How many beautiful creatures of the sea do we have to videotape on our iPhones regurgitating toxic trash their bellies before we believe? What have we learned– better yet what have our children learned from our example?

When young teens mockingly throw fireworks for entertainment down a dry thirsty ravine defiantly igniting a fire that incinerates overnight what took Mother Nature centuries to lovingly create when will this get real for humanity?

Please tell me what was the straw that broke our precious earths back? What tipped the scale unleashing four hurricanes traveling at record speed to first Texas and now Florida where our nations Electoral College president-elect covets his most prized possession? Is this his fault? Was it his arrogant mocking of what credible scientists have been predicting for decades? Was it his absurd announcement yanking our nation from participating in meaningful collaboration with other nations desperately trying to reverse our inconsiderate actions? Is Mother Earth simply pissed-off at the lackadaisical efforts to genuinely recycle, repurpose and reuse to minimize man made pollutants that desecrates her beauty that angers her? Is Mother Nature simply fed up with our inability to see all she provided was for our own sustenance and pleasure?

How will we breathe? What will we eat? Where will we find fresh water to drink? What will be our shelter? This morning not only did climate change become very real for me, but the spiritual consequence of being ungrateful for the miraculous bounties of nature have awakened every fiber of my soul.

I can understand if you have never stood on a mountain top peering down on all the magnificence that graces our environment or if you never had the opportunity to be refreshed by the satiating taste of fresh water from a mountain stream or swam in pristine lakes. Yes– perhaps one would understand the disconnect. But if you have traveled across our glorious oceans to places equally as exquisite or been enriched by the many flavors of our earth’s bounty. I truly do not understand why we humans hesitate.

Brothers and sisters if you have watched an Eagle soar as I have, enjoyed a gorgeous sunset as I have or the magic of a sunrise as I continually pray to see– I beg of you–now is the time to act.

I am wondering now if my life focus has been for naught. I have spent a life time serving as a change-agent for social justice, a servant of the greater good but I have never ever been the steward I should have been to prevent this devastation. Please, hear my heart, now– not tomorrow we must protect what left we have to survive, thrive and appreciate. Let us show our gratitude to our Mother Earth by doing all we can to protect, preserve and to promote the care of our earth so nearly irreparably wounded by our carelessness and even our denial. Climate change is very real; our environment has been impacted dramatically.

I am no expert, I am not a scientist but I do genuinely feel the heartbeat of our Mother Earth who has cared for our ancestors and who has graced our children and grandchildren with her very best. Mother Nature has never fully succumbed to man’s greed or disregard but I sense she will do everything she can to survive even if she must wash her body clean of the abuse and intentional infliction of ingratitude.

My prayer is that we  do all we can together to demonstrate appreciation for our Earth, starting today– let us encourage reverence for her resources and teach our young to respect her vulnerabilities by restoring the delicate balance that nurtures her restorative soul. Thank you Mother Earth for all you have provided. Thank you for your patience and mercy. Love our Mother Earth. Love our planet. Love humanity.

Deeply concerned regards,

Elizabeth Asahi Rising Sun Sato

 

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Eclipsing Forward With Hope- a prayer for humanity 

 

I got so emotional during the Eclipse.

It seems my spirit was overcome with the realization that all across our nation people, brothers and sisters– from many nations around the world were viewing a rare celestial event. We were all looking up and I was secretly hoping for a sign from the heavens that would cleanse and recalibrate all sentient beings.

The human family has been so disconnected as of late. There is so much turmoil, hatred and discord that one begins to feel numb from the repeated shock of the latest reported act of violence or death.

Thousands of people traveled to our little town in central Oregon where the path of totality made eclipse viewing a rare treat. The temperature dropped significantly as darkness descended and a piercing quiet enveloped the earth sending chills throughout my body.

Instantaneously, I could hear hundreds of voices expressing awe in unison at the moment the sun disappeared behind the moon. The Corona was shockingly magnificent and much too powerful to forget.

Tears filled my eyes as I sensed this was more than just a rare celestial event. I felt as if the eyes of our ancestors were looking back at us through the stars as we gazed upon the heavens. I wanted to connect with them even if for a moment.

Perhaps the magnificent Dine people of the Navajo nation got it right. Maybe this exchange between the moon and the sun should not be observed directly but revered in silent contemplation. For a brief moment– I thought my time may have been better spent in solitude and prayer because my soul has become increasingly troubled for our nation and for our world.

I decided to be the Rising Sun that Creator made me to be, to do something positive and proactive even if only Creator heard my heart. This is my prayer: “Creator of all sentient beings and this beautiful home we call earth–as we gaze collectively at the powerful sun being shadowed by the mysterious moon let us all recognize how precious our planet. Let us realize how exceptional her four legged creatures, how resilient her two legged beings, how magnificent her winged ones who soar our skies and how graceful her mammals that protect the seas. May this moment of collective awe bring us closer together not only for this momentous occasion but even closer from this universal transition forward. Let us find renewed joy in working collaboratively on behalf of humanity and to respect the intricate connection between all living things. Creator of many names– we humans have the capacity to do many good things in each of our lifetimes–please let it be so!

Amen. <3 Rising Sun

#risetoexcellence #bekind

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Natsukashii

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This morning I am in deep contemplation about many things. In fact, I burned my breakfast toast not once, not twice but three times–how that happened– I have no idea. I always thought toasters had built in timers but perhaps I am not in the present but suspended in time?

I am deep in thought momentarily residing in faraway places reflecting about the past still so fragrant and vivid in my memory. I was feeling and thinking about the Japanese word natsukashii. It is such a perfect word. There are simply some words and phrases that do not translate well in to the English language. This concept is special–let me try to explain. I have been natsukashii all morning recollecting and longing for the happiness I have enjoyed. The memories are reassuring and invigorating. In between, preparing for my Sunday morning, I was playfully engaging with our dogs pausing to recollect when they were puppies. Now 10 and 3, I was curious why time seems to travel so fast sneaking little sips of my coffee before the sun boldly pronounced the day.

I was thinking about the many great cups of coffee I have enjoyed and the many sun rises I have witnessed some brighter than others. I was reflecting back about my life, my career and my family (not necessarily in that order but flooded with memories.) WOW–what a life I have lived-ne? I am natsukashii.

I am so very grateful to have travelled to many places and met some extraordinary people. My favorite humans are the ordinary people less known and often more filled with humility and compassion. I am thinking about the transformation of my own life some experiences simple and others so complex. I was reflecting on just how many times Creator called me during the past few years always insisting I give my very best talents and skills sometimes not appreciated but often somehow connected.

I was reflecting on how God’s ultimate plan seems to be for me to transform my heart in genuine service to others. I was recollecting that sometimes I was fully ready and other times overwhelmed.

I am natsukashii- most especially for the little things that bring me such joy–most especially my three sons Gabriel, Samuel and Elijah, my 90 year old mom Shizue, my two pups Yoshitsune and George, all of my siblings Helen, Stuart, Richard, Linda and Patricia. I am delighting in being an Auntie to all my nieces and nephews Christine, Nelson, Andrew, Phillip, Catherine, Jacob, David, Lincoln and all of my many great nieces and nephews-all academically accomplished and yet the most important treasure (to me) is that they are kind human beings.

I am also reflecting after my second cup of joe about all of the many amazing friends I have met all over the WORLD and looking forward to new flavors of coffee and tea so I can enjoy more moments of natsukashii. I am recollecting some of the most amazing culinary delights I enjoyed presented in many fragrant scents and beautiful languages–anticipating there is so much more to taste–is there not?

I am reflecting about the many amazing people I have met from so many diverse faith perspectives who willingly shared their poetry, art song and dance and looking forward to learning more.

I am thinking of my sister who died at such a young age and my father and all of my ancestors and extended family including Atwai (deceased) Charlotte Pitt, Atwai Ron Mehl and Atwai Richard Twiss whose advice taught me to laugh and fully appreciate life–every single moment.

This morning, I am feeling natsukashii.
 Elizabeth Asahi Rising Sun Sato

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The Power of a Mother’s Prayer

             Juzu

 

The Power of a Mother’s Prayer
 
This past weekend, I stayed in our childhood home, my mother’s home of 60 years after finishing numerous business meetings in Portland. I love coming home. There are so many memories, scents and sounds that reflect both a joyous and yet tough childhood. It’s hard to believe that all seven of us children fit in such a tiny home. I remember at one point, five of us packed in to one bedroom that now seems barely able to comfortably house one person. We made do. We survived challenging economic times, my older sister perishing from leukemia, my father stricken by a ravaging brain tumor crippling an otherwise strong and healthy man and my younger sister being stricken not one but twice from bone marrow cancer. There were many mean lean Christmases and months were all of my siblings and I had to work and go to school but somehow we survived.
 
I recollect with such joy the sounds our oldest sister pounding out powerful masterpieces from an old upright piano and yet other times softly playing beautiful sonatas to mellow the pain of struggle. Our home was always filled with music whether piano, violins, violas, cellos or voice—music drowned out the suffering of disparate treatment, inadequate medical care, the lack of heat and sometimes no food. There was always lots of energy with the melodies of childhood voices emanating from my remaining six brothers and sisters whether it was preparing for athletic competitions, honors academics or discussing the perplexing behavior of humans who chose to identify us by the color of our skin rather than the content of our character. There was not much our beautiful mother could do about injustice in our community but she was confident that her love manifested through prayer gave us a fighting chance in childhood.
 
The one memory I recall so vividly was daily hearing my mother singing her prayers. Just through recollection I can smell the scent of Japanese incense that filled the air as she chanted sometimes up to three hours a day a complex series of prayers framed around the Lotus Sutra. When you are a young child you take such devotion for granted. My Okaasan (mother) used to tell us “I pray for your today” when we were facing a tough Chemistry exam or awaiting admission in to a prestigious college. I recollect there were times my mother’s prayers sounded more like deep pleading especially when my Merchant Marine Captain Father did not send his paycheck home. My mother could not adequately plan or care for her children when so many things were unpredictable. My father’s alcoholism tormented his compassionate soul when he faced the poverty he encountered traveling nearly every continent on our planet. Having a compassionate parent can be a two edged sword especially when you are a young child not fully understanding the demons that preoccupy your father’s inter-generational trauma. I remember sitting at the edge of my mother’s bed watching her as she prayed. I did not understand how completely she believed that her discipline would indeed be heard and answered but somehow many of her prayers were answered  and we survived. My mother was and is a prayer warrior.
 
I understand now the power and gift of prayer, especially from a mother’s heart. I will never ever underestimate the power of prayer. I will never ever underestimate the resilience of a mothers love especially articulated in the mysterious and beautiful language of prayer. My siblings and I have survived many life challenges that most would cower because we knew that our mother was praying for us.
This weekend I woke up to the scents and sounds of my childhood. I laid in bed smiling waking up to peaceful memories. I am now praying for my mother who at ninety worries that time is running out on her petitions to God. I stood by my mother’s bedroom doorway as I observed her well-worn prayer books and prayer beads (juzu) I observed the same focus and diligence of the mother of my youth. My eyes filled with tears because I finally comprehended why my mother prayed so much and so often for her children and for me—especially. Like my father, I am bothered by the injustices of the world but unlike my father I was able to break free from the inter-generational elixirs that mask our historic wounds. I am so grateful that daily my mother prays for my three sons, her eleven grandchildren and five great grandchildren and future generations to come. I am thankful for her belief in the power of prayer. Prayer is a gift that should never be underestimated.
 
My precious sweet mother who never had the opportunity to pursue college or a professional career is my greatest mentor and role model. I pray for my three sons now daily, without ceasing in a different language and with various melodies—but with the same dedication. My mother also taught me to pray for others, the ones who do not deserve prayer. The ones who persecute or challenge the less fortunate and most especially the ones who take advantage of a privileged life. When I see the challenges and suffering occurring on the Reservations, economic ghettos and politically created barrios—I too pray with out ceasing Sometimes my prayers come through service because I believe prayer can evolve through heartfelt action. I unceasingly pray without mention because I have witnessed the results of genuine earnest prayer. I am thankful for the influence my mother has had on my life. I am deeply grateful for my mother’s steadfast earnest prayers. I am a grateful recipient of the power of a Mother’s loving prayer.
May you be blessed equally so!
Elizabeth Asahi Rising Sun Sato #risetoexcellence
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Opening my heart and evolving my faith

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I love this photo–it so reminds me of me in my spiritual walk which is so dichotomous. Sometimes I am so serious and oft-times I am filled with joy.

Growing up a Buddhist, I memorized and chanted all of the critical scriptures but discovered through research that women were thought to never be able to achieve the level of enlightenment of men–hah I challenged those assumptions.

As a lover of the Jesus-way (as Indigenous/Native people refer to Christianity) simply memorizing passages of the Gospel or obeying the commandments was/is not enough. There has to be more to our spiritual growth than chanting, or memorizing or obeying the proclamations of men who stand in judgement of others on television pulpits.

I love this photo because for me–spirituality and faith are strengthened by me challenging ME– to be the kindest-most compassionate-loving human being I can be.

It’s not easy– because I am very human, I make mistakes, sometimes I laugh too much, sometimes I become angry at the sight of injustice and sometimes I am just plain narrow in my thinking.

So each and every day, I challenge myself to open up my eyes, open my mind and open my heart to new information, diverse information and challenging information to help me consider and reconsider my own truth to embrace a larger more important truth about humanity that is so critical to the survival of this beautiful planet and all of her amazing sentient beings.

I rejoice in this (prayerfully) continually evolving process. Love to all, #risetoexcellence <3 Rising Sun

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Teach, Teach Your Children Well

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I love FB timeline pop ups, they make me smile recollecting all of the many wonderful experiences that enveloped our lives when my three sons were young. It was not easy raising three boys as a single-parent and it was especially challenging raising three young teen boys of African-American heritage during a time when prejudice, ignorance and stereotypes hover around young children of cover like a dense pungent fog.

On this important day, when we pause and recognize the contributions of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr –I pray you consider your role in raising up a generation of young men and young women of strong moral character. I pray that a generation of young adults will rise up in our nation and throughout our world to have the conscience-capability and courage to stand up and to speak up for the cause of compassion-love and justice. Children are never too young to learn about the ethics and character–these teachings are critical and will ultimately shape them in to conscientious human beings.

I recall vividly my husband/the boy’s father joking “they are like mini camcorders” and he was spot on. Children learn–not only learn from what you say but absorb even more significantly from what you do. What are your children learning from you?

Teach your young children now and teach them well– not simply with lectures or ultimatums but with true cultural stories and historical overviews they might not learn in school. Teach them by your positive example, by your daily engagement with others and also through the commitments that are important to you spiritual, socially and yes even politically. Children are brilliant if you give them a chance. 

My three sons Gabriel Isaiah Kent, Samuel James Kent and Elijah Solomon Kent were taught from a very early age, even younger than this photo about the principles of the mighty Samurai or the noble teaching of Native Warriors, they learned about Rosa Parks who I met and Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. They have heard of Mohandas Gandhi, Mother Theresa and Cesar Chavez. My son attended lectures with me when my friend and mentor Harvard Law School Sean Dr. Derrick Bell launched “Faces at the bottom of the well” at Powell’s bookstore and met leaders like Dr. Richard Twiss (Lakota) Theologian and ecumenical leader who shared a diverse perspective of the gospel of love/peace. My sons have attended rallies, school district meetings, watched documentaries and engaged in discussion with me after school nearly every day during their most formative teen years. It is important for young people to engage in diverse experiences when they are young. It is also critical to allow them to speak—to have their own voice to articulate, their perspectives, fears and hopes.

My three sons were allowed a voice, but a voice that was mindful and respectful of the perspectives of others no matter how diverse or different. My boys attended fiestas, Pow Wows and Civil rights events so that I could give them an opportunity to broaden their understanding and perspective about the world. We enjoyed high tea in Victoria and visited the barrios of east LA. They tasted foods from all over the world when they were young and were fortunate to hear stories from their Grandfather James Arthur Kent, Sr. who I invited to come live with us. Grandpa was the son of a sharecropper.

If you are a parent of a small child or even a teen, it is not too late to help your child develop and broaden the content of their character, to expand their concern and compassion for others and yes–even to raise up a generation of leaders who will prioritize the concerns of community, nation and world over continual self-interest and greed for economic wealth. Don’t get me wrong–there is absolutely nothing wrong with being financially successful and educated formally but all of that must be balanced with a compassionate heart and an open perspective to strengthen the character of a child or young person. I have no doubt that someday my sons will reflect in their work and in their personal lives all they learned growing up and I pray the same for your children. Our world needs better leadership. Teach, teach your children well–love them but also expose them to broad array of people-events and knowledge to strengthen their moral character—perhaps then future generations will have an opportunity to live on a healthy planet and in peace.

#risetoexcellence.

 

Always, Elizabeth Asahi Rising Sun Sato

 

 

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“The more educated a man the less he knows.”

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artwork (c) Terrence Booth Jr, Pima Artist

There is an old Pima saying– I heard many decades ago “the more educated a man the less he knows.” I have been pondering that quote a great deal most especially as I look at the huge graduate loan debt I will be paying off over the next decade or even as I contemplate pursuing a Ph.D. Does more education really make us smarter? If we are smarter do we really know more about the wisdom of human engagement or living a life of happiness? Do educated people have a corner on the market of authority and definitive fact?

Well sure, expertise does come in handy especially for those required to complete a complex responsibility. Those who have studied rocket science or understand the mathematical or scientific complexities of launching a rocket ship to the moon are invariably much more capable than me or the average human being when it comes to scientific smarts but does exposure to education or higher learning really make us better human beings or more useful?

The older I get– the more I seem to question everything I have been told or taught. I have witnessed over the past few decades brilliant people make some very illogical decisions. I have been aghast when “enlightened leaders” make cruel edicts and powerful politicians desecrate communities simply because they believed their perception was factual or right or felt they had the power to assert their will.

Don’t get me wrong if I ever needed spinal surgery or brain surgery I would immediately go to the very best and the very best is a gentleman like K. Abbed, MD Neurosurgery Chief, Yale Spine Institute. I would trust Dr. Abbed not only for his incomparable technical expertise but I believe he is the kind of human being that also brings his intuitive sense and compassion to his calling as a healer. Dr. Abbed seems so much more “balanced” than most exceptionally brilliant human beings because his compassion inflates much larger than his vast educational expertise. I was in the “spine industry” for over a decade and the most capable seemed to be the most balanced–the same thing holds true in the leadership arena.

Maybe that’s it—perhaps we have become so dependent upon our textbook expertise whether it is leadership, human resources or politics we have forgotten to serve as Dr. Abbed exemplifies with a diverse balance of common sense, life experience and knowledge. Being brilliant is not just a piece of pretty (albeit expensive) sheepskin we hang proudly on our wall but being truly wise is utilizing information with a balance of intuition, spiritual connection and our heart. I believe the heart is as critical as the brain in making a balanced decision. Perhaps that is what our Pima friends are trying to tell us–observe and live before you proclaim to know. For me, real knowledge involves the heart as much as it depends upon our gray matter and important decisions require that we utilize all of our many gifts including the spiritual or take the time to shore up the ones we lack and that is not always more textbooks.

I share all of this with you because very recently– I feel the spirit of life beckoning me to be still. I can barely hear the distant musical melody from my ancestors that requires me to listen more deeply. It has become increasingly difficult to hear the song. There has been so much noise as of late blasting on social media and the television airwaves. I cannot even find a moment’s peace with my IPhone wrestling for my attention at all hours of the night trying to deliver to me what Professor Tim Wu label’s as intentional distractions.

The “Attention Merchants” surround us from every corner and are desperate to engulf every bit of our brain space and focus. Dr. Wu quotes psychologist and philosopher William James, who “held that our life experience would ultimately amount to whatever we had paid attention to.” Lately– I have become completely distracted by the attention merchants but I cannot just blame the media or marketing hounds or even politics for that matter—I have lost my focus from distraction. I spend much less time in meditation, contemplation and prayer. I am always rushing from this assignment to the next. I am a great cook but oft-times cannot recall what epicurean delight I just ate. I am eating but–I am not tasting, I am traveling but not going anywhere seemingly different because I am not pausing to enjoy where I traveled. I am meeting people and yet not taking my time to connect as deeply or in more meaningful ways–so important to me. Why am I in such a rush to get through life? Who said I had to rush?

I used to pride myself on living a life of “Ichi-go, Ichi-e” one moment, every moment is a Japanese four-character idiom that describes a cultural concept of treasuring meetings with people. Zen Master Shunryu Suzuki taught me to cherish any gathering that I may take part in, citing the fact that many meetings in life are not repeated. Wikipedia insists the concept is most commonly associated with Japanese tea ceremonies, especially tea masters—but actually history taught us that the noble Samurai professed allegiance to “living life to the fullest” therefore giving their all in every battle. I got to confess it was the core of my being and I have no idea where it went? I am losing the essence of me. I am not taking my time to savor each and every moment of life.  It seems I am always in a hurry to know more, see more— do more and yet I am learning less. I have lost the beauty of the moment, I have lost the wisdom of contemplating the experience. I don’t want to lose the exquisite flavor of the Joie de vivre of my life.

In the past year, I experienced one of the most horrendous challenges of my life. This event caused me to question everything even the value of my existence. Like a warrior preparing for battle–I am in a battle for my soul. I must center. I am going to be less social on social media and more in the moment. I am returning back to that which gives me peace. I want to hear the melody being played by the ancestors on ancient instruments.

Please–this is by no means a judgment or instruction for others but simply a sharing of my heart. I HAVE to do this for me. Creator is calling me back to a time of silence. God’s song is like no other to me and so why would I not want to listen? Creator’s melody is certain in my spirit. God’s beckoning draws me like no other power on earth. Creator wants my FULL attention to show me what I cannot learn in text books or by scouring the vast internet information highway. I cannot explain it–other than–I have always heard this song from the first moment of my awareness. It is the peaceful melody of a beautifully played hand crafted Native flute or the gentle but resilient Japanese Shakuhachi. I must follow the music—because the melody brings me tremendous strength and peace. Perhaps in moments of quiet I will discover the knowledge I seek and the wisdom the Pima beckoned. I do not want to be so vastly educated if being educated means I can no longer hear the melody and I lose my heart.

Blessings–always from my heart,

Elizabeth Asahi Rising Sun Sato #risetoexcellence

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STILL WE RISE

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YOU HAVE A PURPOSE. I have a purpose.

Last night I went to bed so encouraged. I realized after watching the PBS documentary BLACK AMERICA SINCE MLK: AND STILL I RISE—my life has significant meaning and purpose and I encourage you to reflect on what you can do and where you can continue to best serve humanity.

Dr. Henry Gates, Jr.’s exploration of the past 50 years of the Civil Rights movement reminded me that the struggle for civil rights had it’s up and down and far from secured. I realized my life’s purpose is not yet done. We all have a calling–what is yours?

I recollected that I shared dinner and prayer with Rosa Parks, I have been embraced and told “you are lovely” by Coretta Scott King, I have shared the platform with Senator Julian Bond, enjoyed a special conversation with Congressman Andrew Young, I was introduced to Kwame Toure (Stokely Carmichael) Civil Rights activist in my UO undergraduate days and was encouraged by Dr. Derrick Bell (Harvard and UO Dean) to care about the Faces at the Bottom of the Well and seek UO Law School. My life has been anything but ordinary as General Norman Schwarzkopf Jr. took my hands and prayed with me and for my sons after becoming a single-parent. Brothers and Sisters–fear and doubt always abound but we must face directly what we fear the most.

Being greeted and encouraged by President Jimmy Carter—numerous Governors and Senators throughout my life reminded me we all have a responsibility with the mantle of leadership even if we are not acknowledged. There have been many Civil Rights leaders who did not make it in to Dr. Gates documentary but they have all contributed to this important movement of humanity which women and LGBTQ and other civil rights struggles have benefited. We all desire to be “seen” as human beings with a special gift and unqiue purpose. My most inspirational moment is the deep embrace and words of encouragement from Dr. Maya Angelou who (I believe) passed me the torch of individual responsibility to actively and continually work for change. My purpose definitely includes civil and human rights–that’s why I will never give up. We must keep going brothers and sisters because as Dr. King cautioned “injustice anywhere is indeed injustice everywhere,”

Yes–our nation has progressed considerably in five decades but the struggle is far from over. One election, four years of uncertainty will not deter my passion nor dilute my purpose. In my heart, through my personal experience and in contemplative prayer this is by far the most important cause I/we will ever embrace. This “struggle” is for the greater good of all–even though–those who least understand or embrace civil and human rights constrain or close their hearts. I appreciate Dr. Gates documentary–he reminded me of all of the important changes the civil rights movement brought to the United States of America and throughout the world. The documentary encouraged me to be encouraged, pray about my/your purpose—never give in and never ever give up. We all have a dream for a more humane nation and a healthier world.

<3 Rising Sun #risetoexcellence #bethe change

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