Ripple Story


As a youth, I was always driven by the love of nature and
compassion for other living beings. I spent hours in the woods
walking and observing the changing seasons that were so evident
on the east coast. If I saw an injured animal I would want to save
the creature. My father even built me a little play house in the
back yard, where I, accompanied by my imagination, spent long
hours trying to nurse injured and dying animals feeding them with
an eyedropper filled with a sugar solution.

Often I would spend long spans of time in the arms of the trees,
cradled by the branches, just being rocked back and forth until I
would hear my mother’s voice calling me, bringing me back to a
reality in which I found difficult to thrive. My resolve of being
happy, compassionate and innocent began to dissipate as I became
entrenched in a culture that saw these qualities as weak. Even at
the ripe old age of eight or nine, I remember longer and longer
bouts of sadness and depression. After saying my prayers, I would
listen to the train far off into the distance wishing I was some
where else.

In middle school I was on the top of my game, thriving in a plastic
reality, which was deemed important. However, my life took a
180º turn when diagnosed with a rare ovarian cancer my first year
of high school. Beating the odds, I survived. It was this teacher
(cancer) that disrupted the conditioning of our society. I took on
Mara with all his armies. I was Arjuna on the battle field
conversing with Krishna before a huge battle, the battle for my
life. I became a lone warrior battling for my life breath and my
spirituality was racked to its very foundation. I was all inside my
head. “Do they know I am sick and that I am wearing a wig?” I
was no longer able to find the quiet moments of NOW that I had
so easily found cradled in the arms of my mother tree as a young
child.

Though the initial diagnosis of cancer was over twenty years ago, I
carried those wounds for what seems to be a life time. I would
have glimpses of quiet moments, yet the past trauma was reaching
its long tentacles into the present affecting everything in my life.
After coming to Spirit Rock and developing a consistent Vipassana
and Metta practice, I realized that if it had not been for suffering
and the cancer, I may not have been propelled to search for
something greater.

My conversations with Buddha led me to the conversations with
cancer as a teacher. My path has been arduous. As the grip of past
trauma lessened through the practice of Metta and Vipassana I
have a renewed appreciation for the finer things in life, such as
nature, compassion, creativity, balance, listening to others and my
ability to stay quiet in times turmoil. I am not implying I am some
enlightened being. What I am trying to convey is that I learned a
great deal by immersing myself in my Buddhist studies and
developing the practice of a quiet observer of my own inner
workings. Most of all I believe what I learned could not come out
of any textbook. I was exposed to many teachers along the way
who, knowingly or unknowingly, have aided me on my spiritual
path. I have feasted at the table of life with some experiences
much more palatable than others. However, all play an important
role in my spiritual development.

I try to have conversations with all of my teachers, in what ever
form they may take, drawing what I can to be more present in my
life as well as in the life of others. I find the practice of meditation
similar to being cradled in the arms of the branches of a large tree.
The tree is stable and rooted and yet can sway with the winds of
change. I am just held there suspended in time, safe, unharmed, in
the present and these ripples touch all aspects of my life.
Carol Roselle 2007