La RESISTANCE

HEY, SOMETIMES WE JUST DON’T WANNA

Anyone engaged in the progressive paths of life, such as meditation, recovery, learning new disciplines, or developing a skill, knows the dread experience of the don’t wannas! I don’t wanna avoid pizza. I don’t wanna work out, I don’t wanna meditate. Sometimes, I don’t even wanna get out of bed. Despite a part of our higher mind believing we really should wanna – or maybe actually because of that – seeds of doubt grew into trees we couldn’t look past.

In conventional life, we assume we should push harder. And when that doesn’t work, we assign blame, usually to ourselves. I’m lazy. I’m useless. What’s wrong with me? We might take on the role of a frustrated parent yelling outside the door, “GET UP!” or a sports coach urging,. “Get past this and move it, you baby.” But if we actually were a baby, no one would speak to us that way. In fact, we might find it cute when a toddler in their terrible twos holds their breath. And while some foxhole instances require tough love or aggression to provide the motivation we lack in most cases this is an overplayed lazy option. It is not a recommended approach to guiding a child toward self-sufficiency, nor developing a meditation practice that includes our full being. You see, we so-called adults have grown beyond the children we once were, but the children have nonetheless remained. We can take the approach of ignoring our child, as many of our parents did.  And as we grew, some of us learned to ignore the pleading of what the Indigo Girls referred to as our “Kid Fears”. Unfortunately, this approach met with enough success that “grin and bear it” became the order of the day and some pushed through until the seed of doubt grew into a boulder we could not lift.

While resistance is annoying to the part of us with grand plans for ourselves, it is a voice with wisdom. When a frightened child comes crying into their parents room at night, they don’t need a motivational speech. Fear and resistance need to be held by loving strength, not pushed by it. And whether we find this flattering or not, the shadow of our kid fears remain in the irrational – sometimes self defeating – behaviour we carry through our adult lives. But, looking at the world they will inherit, is there not some wisdom in the child’s resistance?  The great “NO” of the toddler is a way of their learning assertion and self respect. And accepting fear is instrumental to developing fearlessness. Fearless does not mean without fear.  It means having acknowledged and made friends with our fears, we can hold them and when ready move past them as our higher mind decides. We don’t have to push the child out of the room, but we can lead the child back to its bed. We can accept our fears and learn their wisdom, but the fearful child should not lead us. Despite its protestations, the child likely wants to be led. But connecting and synchronizing are essential before we can lead. And kindness is the best tool to use in deconstructing the illogic of fear and finding the truth of wisdom. 

Developing a strong meditation practice is one of the cases for which kindness is an essential method. Some of us learn this in meditation and the approach begins to bleed into other aspects of our life. In my opinion, this is the most important result of a consistent and authentic meditation practice. But, as wonderful as this sounds, some days we just can’t make that long journey from bed to the cushion. Yet, pushing ourselves in the way we do everything else, sets us off on the wrong tact. We are at the mercy of ego or self-will. It is the wrong view, because we are somehow believing there is something we can get from the meditation that requires struggle.  The adage “nothing good comes without struggle” is not apt in developing an authentic practice free of aggression. So, when experience resistance to our practice it makes a certain sense. We are deconstructing the fortress of ego. We feel exposed and fearful.  Sometimes we may need to halt the process and allow the fear to catch up with us. And kindness and patience are the remedies. When we have the patience to meet resistance with kindness in meditation practice, we have an opportunity to see its effectiveness. As we develop faith in love as a remedy we become kinder and more patient with ourselves. As we become kinder and more patient with ourselves, we naturally become more caring of others.

And as we develop the path of meditation, we will encounter the “I-DON-WANNAS”. The path will lead us to places that are not always easy to enter.  But when we are angry or embarrassed about the fear, we create an agitation within our being. Our mind splits into different facets each shouting at the other. While something inside might urge us to push harder that increases the struggle. The only thing struggle builds are the tools of ego. Reacting out of anger is not effective. But we can accept our anger, hear its complaint, and wait till it settles and clarity returns. Only a mind of serenity can lead to responses that release the struggle. The mind is more creative and effective when it operates from a calm center.

We need not feel afraid of fear. The best way of developing fearlessness is to look into the eyes of fear and hold them until things calm. Hold the fear until the struggling stops. You see in this approach, breaking out of our struggle is counter productive. We can honor and hold the mind that is fearful until it stops struggling and is ready to step forward. In this way, we our full mind can develop natural assertion and confidence just like a child learning to walk back to their room. Just like flowers blooming in spring. The seed has no idea of the flower it will become as it is too busy pushing up through the darkness. This is not easy, but the plant does this without struggle. It rises because it is its nature. No one needs to stand above it yelling for it to grow. Along the way, if the ground freezes, the growing stops until the stalk gathers the energy to move again. We can see progress in nature that, while not without challenge, is in synchronicity with nature. The ancient book of wisdom, referred to as the IChing, states that obstacles can be overcome by emulating water. Warrior has the patience to pause until their strength rebuilds and allows them to flow over or around the obstacle. The river never feels insecure or berates itself for this.

And just to continue with run-on metaphors, the stubbornness with which a part of us slows down the whole is, aside from being a voice crying to be heard, also may the very strength we use to travel forward our own way. In early Buddhism they used an image of the rhinoceros to depict the kind of solitary practitioner who had to travel the path in their own way, at their own pace. Aside from being solitary beings, Rhinos are highly intelligent and have excellent survival skills. They are excellent others that fiercely protect their young. No matter how cute these ungainly beings may appear you don’t want to invade their space. Space assures safety and dignity for all parties concerned. So, along with patience and kindness, the willingness to allow our “don’t wanna be’s” to just be, would be a wonderful step. I don’t think we should always give in to our doubt, but we might have a conversation with it first. “What are you afraid of?” “What do you need?” And we might remind the little rhino that we’re here and we love them.

In this way, our resistance is our path. And if all we took from our meditation journey was to be kind enough to ourselves to treat ourselves with care and respect, that would be life changing.

ECLIPSE

PARTNERING WITH THE UNIVERSE

Those in proximity to the shadowed path of the eclipse are scurrying to make Air B&B reservations, shoebox pinhole cameras and even wedding plans along the path of totality. There will be shouting, singing, and dancing as the sky darkens. It’s kind of sweet to think of so many of us celebrating together, even though anything beyond us seems accompanied with a splash of dread these days. Life and death create each other every moment. The universe birthed us and the universe will end us. Along the way, we’ll mark the passage of our moon across the sun. When he was still a cat, Yusuf Islam referenced being followed by a “moonshadow.” Moonshadow, moonshadow.

At some point this summer, as the universe decides to reveal it, there will be a less noticeable, but far more salient, event. A supernova will be visible on earth.  This once in our lifetime event will mark the dramatic death of a star that exploded 3,000 years ago.  However, the light will be reaching us this year. It is stunning to think that looking into the majesty of a clear night sky we are seeing a chronicle of our past. Even the contemporaneous events of today’s eclipse will have happened 8 minutes earlier. If we look closely enough into the stars between the stars we can see back to stars created at the start of time. And as we look up tonight much of what we see is no longer happening. This is all beyond most of our capacities to grasp, so today’s otherwise ordinary event will be interpreted in many ways depending on the diverse capabilities and aspirations of the interpreters. Some will see evidence of a godhead as others see a harbinger of doom.  Some will believe it to be a portent for good things and many will devise stories with the opposite conclusion. Is this evidence that we are not alone? Or just a momentary shadow happening in an insignificant corner of the universe?  In times before, this was a fearful and awe inspiring moment in the animal annals of our forebears. But today, in these darkening moments, we will partner with the universe.  And as cool and rare and special as the eclipse is to those in our part of the world, our interpretations of the eclipse will have more to say about ourselves than anything else. If it’s a message to us, then what of those who live beyond the shadow?

The eclipse is an event born of perspective. The moon is close to us, and so appears large enough to block the sun. It appears meaningful because it is our moon.  Yet, as above, so below. And doesn’t this celestial event beautifully depict an ordinary process in everyday life?  Buddhists don’t generally speak of heaven or hell. They speak instead of awareness or ignorance.  Buddhists  talk of “obscurations” to the clarity of understanding. The obscurations that are close to us are meaningful enough to create shadows in our understanding. There is a big wide amazing world that is blocked by this one thing we can’t look past. And because that one thing is close, like the policeman in your rear view mirror, it appears larger than it actually is.

In meditation theory, the sun is used as a depiction of awareness. The sun shines on everything equally regardless of whether it is blocked by the moon, the clouds or the turning earth. Awareness is alive and awake in the universe whether or not we are conscious of it. It is the work of the meditator to uncover the veils of self-imposed obscuration that block access to awareness. We notice thoughts that are actually quite small in the scheme, and bring our attention back to the space afforded by the breath. As we do this, we are stepping back from the thought and revealing a larger context. Our blockage might appear less significant, even humorous. Over time, these obscurations become less solid and less imbued with “meaning”. They become right-sized. Sometimes they disappear altogether. Although the significant obscurations require less force, but more patience.  Some will likely return. When that happens we are faced with the same task. Notice them as thinking, and return to the breath.   This reconnects us to space, which is perspective. It sucks that we often have to be fooled again and again but that is the work of creating access to awareness. That sunlight will, in time, permeate our experience, but there is a lot of slogging to get there.

Many of us are inspired by the idea of space travel. To many kids of my youth, astronauts displaced the firemen and soldiers of my parents’ generation. It was exciting, and to many of us, it still is. But to the astronaut, it was hours and hours of training to get to hours and hours, and maybe years and years, of sitting through endless space. Each step we take is a small step. But, as we are humans, we will likely make a big AF deal of every step. Look at me! I’m coming back to the breath! Huzzah!

In truth, we are training to be ordinary, simple and exactly who we are. And considering our outsized view of ourselves, that is remarkable. In Shambhala Buddhism they call this authentic being. Authentic being connects us to life around us without interpretation. Things are as they are and it is the work of the meditator to see that as it is. But the things that are close appear very large. The vastness of space is threatening to existence, hence the onus on survival as a hunkering down, and closing off into the safety of the cave. In this way, we hunker down in the safety of our minds, returning again and again to the bone we’ll chew.  Eventually, we need more than that bone. Humans have held to their families, beliefs,  and clans for security.  But we have eventually had to venture out, trading security for sustenance. In the coming century the first families could well be born off planet. From some perspective, this is beyond frightening. From another, it is inspiring and exciting. To those who accept the mission it will be a lot of work and routine. Some of us today are building entire fortresses over small flickers of thought. And some are returning to the breath on a journey to enlightenment.

But whether we are journeying through outer space, or the space of our minds, we are partnering with the universe. And, while we are likely not as special as we’d care to believe, we have the possibility of forging a sacred bond with the great unfolding of life. Awareness is our power. And though ego and self-importance provide all the obscurations we think we need, we might develop the power to be released from the “bondage of self” and see through space to the truth beyond.

To the universe, this is a blink of her eye. But for us, it’s a long process. One we travel one breath at a time. All the while followed by our moonshadow, moonshadow.

REBIRTH

REBIRTH, RESURRECTION, REINCARNATION, REIMAGINING LIFE 
Easter and Passover mark traditional acknowledgements of spring and the renewal of life in North American society. Nearly every other culture has an equivalent as the passing of winter into spring is a universal human experience. In temperate climates we see blooming flowers, buzzing bees and the scurry of animals in mating rituals. Ever warming days grow longer and brighter. We can feel the earth’s rebirth from her frozen dark winter. The exhilaration and relief felt by the earliest humans still echoes in our bones. Life again resetting itself.
However, we humans sitting atop the food chain often find it hard to join in the simplicity of wellbeing. Our giant brains grant us access to so much information it’s hard not to be overwhelmed. And when we feel overwhelmed have any change triggers fear. We conjure self-doubt and any number of things cooked up to keep us from simple contentment. Contentment is the gateway to wellbeing.  A friend of mine recently mentioned the horses outside his home and was amazed at their ability to just stand in silence until there was a need to move. They seemed a part of everything in their stoic sovereignty. Nature has a slower rhythm and the ability to accept itself as it is. Humans may be the only form of life that truly doesn’t like itself. We’re always needing to fix something. When we’re not scurrying around trying to compete with life, we’re scurrying around our mind trying to fix our selves. I had a friend who, when we woke up in the morning, would lay frowning in consternation. A part of her mind was like a searchlight scanning the fog for danger. Once spotted, she would turn to me in excitement and a conversation, usually painful, would ensue. Much of this behavior was instigated by her extreme intelligence. She obsessed about the dangers of life, the germs, the politics, the climate, all because she could hold those things in her mind and still get thru a working day. All of her worries were well placed. But unmediated information serves to obscure the simple beauty of life. The music of life needs silence for us to hear.
Of course, it is exactly this worry over the very real dangers that arise within and around us, that has allowed our ascendency to the top of the chain. However, along the way, we have sometimes missed the love, joy and goodness that can nurture and replenish our spirit. That love is nurturing the earth all around us. This becomes evident with the passing of winter.  Rituals, such as Easter, Passover, Holi in India, Songkran in Southeast Asia, the Japanese cherry blossom festival Hanami and the various iterations of the Spring Equinox celebrate the rebirth of life. These rituals employ flowers, dance, and in many traditions, of course, eggs. Eggs are the ubiquitous symbol of birth. Humorist Bill Hicks felt hiding eggs was a random way to celebrate Easter and suggested we might just as well hide Lincoln Logs to signify the story of Jesus. But painted eggs in our culture are remnants of ancient human traditions that mark the rebirth of life.
Buddhists mark Vesak on a lunar designation in May. With customary Buddhist economy Vesak serves as the commemoration of the birth, enlightenment and death of the Buddha. This is an interesting principle. It is a very Buddhist idea to see death and birth as integral to a whole understanding of life. This is perhaps echoed in Christianity with the crucifixion which is commemorated just days before the rebirth. Buddhists conflate this further believing we begin dying as soon as we are born. I saw Zigar Kongtrul teach on this at Karme Choling in Vermont. He asked the students how many had accepted death at the end of their life. About half the room raised their hands. And then he asked how many of us accepted that we were dying right now, at this very moment? Most hands lowered. Buddhists feel it is important to acknowledge our dying, because with awareness we can overcome the fear of death. Fear of death is thought to underlie all other fears. Buddhists employ practices and contemplations to slowly, over time, loosen the fearful panic we have around this inevitable part of life. In this way, if we can accept death we release ourselves to more fully appreciate life. Many of us accept death as the finality of life. But death is all around us alongside life each moment. And every life leads to another. Every breath we take is one less breath we will ever take. Yet, each moment we experience is itself dying and leading to the next moment. If we look closely at our experience, such as in meditation, we will likely see that thoughts are dying and being born continually.
Very soon after this writing,  a star will explode and be visible for a time in the night sky. But this has already happened. In fact, it happened 3,000 years ago. The light from the exploding star will take that long to reach us. If we look into the sky, we are seeing the past. Some of the stars we marvel over have long passed. There are powerful telescopes that are exposing our history in the sky.  Some are even seeing almost to the very birth of the universe. Yet, as though there is a cosmic firewall we haven’t yet seen it’s actual inception. So, we believe in a creator, or a big bang to make sense of life. But all we can see is there is life and there is death. There was darkness and then light. Or better said, there was no light until, at some point, there was. 
So what happened before that? In fact, what happened before our present thought? Buddhist believe there are seeds planted with each thought, each life and every moment in between that lead to the formation of the next thought. As we sow so shall we reap. Apples fall to the earth, dissolve and their seeds give birth to the next tree. But, apple seeds don’t grow into orange trees. So, there is a continuum of life that is continually dying and rebirthing itself. Something is carried down through each iteration. Thus the Buddhist notion of reincarnation is a much more natural process than we realize. Something continues. However, that usual process is that we are ignorant of the process, believing there are no practical causes to the conditions we experience. But the process of enlightenment is rolling away the stone, removing ignorance, and discovering the causes and conditions of our experience. We can take responsibility for this experience and sow seeds that will lead toward compassion, caring and a grander state of being. Or, we can continue to wander through time and space randomly without the lights on.
Hindus speak of Brahma, Krishna and Shiva as the creator, sustainer and destroyer. This describes the cycle of life with each element equal and interconnected. All of this is natural and simple. However, our minds can complicate anything when we make it about “ME”. I am ME and this is all there is. And with that proclamation we give birth to ego. And as we birth ego, we destroy truth. The belief in ourselves as the center of everything eclipses any awareness of the reality to which we are connected. Because of this isolation, we are alone and searching a void for completeness. And in this way, we are creating life that is dead. The path to enlightenment is one that parts the veils of ego and brings us into the light of life. In the light, we see we are part of everything around us. We can relax as we are part of this miraculous web of life and birth and living and death. This is who we are. And when we see this, it is a rebirth. We are reimagining our life in every moment. And in this way, we are sowing seeds of goodness that will help guide the future iterations of ourselves.
Each moment is a rebirth, when we become aware. Awareness is an extraordinary thing. It is a moment of divinity. And at each moment we are aware, we are blessed by the power of the present.  We can choose to be reborn in love every moment. This is not a hero’s journey. It is very ordinary. Just like life itself.

RENUNCIATION WITH OPEN HANDS

OFFERING ATTACHMENT

After years of study, training and ascetic discipline, the Buddha began a 49-day yogic meditation fast.  During this time, he gained mastery over his body and attained relative mental clarity. But, as he was at the point of death, he did not have the strength to fully cross over into awakenment. Perhaps knowing that his work was not about his own accomplishment, but that his quest would be to reach a state that would allow him to help others, he broke his vow and accepted a bowl of rice from a young woman. It wasn’t until he accepted this sustenance that he had the strength to attain full realization.

Upon awakening, the Buddha saw the interwoven systems of causes and conditions that ensnare beings. Caught in an endless web of confusion, we are unable to see ourselves and are therefore unable to find a way out of the confusion. So, without a path to recovery, many of us wander in the twilight of ignorance. Trying to escape pain, we attach to false remedies, sensual pleasures and ideologies that only serve to lead us into further suffering. Strangely, this acceptance of pain and suffering had given the Buddha a deep serenity. It seems that acknowledging the problems we face is a necessary first step in calming the anxieties we experience. Taken by his deep serenity, many seekers came to him, and urged him to teach. He was unsure how to proceed until he developed a plan to speak to people as they were without the artifice of religious doctrines, social structures, or philosophical framing.  He chose to start at the beginning. The first step was to recognize the common problem. All beings suffer.

Beginning with this first step, Buddha developed a system of recovery from the attachments that bind us.  He urged his followers to follow a step-by-step process to loosen their imprisonment. I am a sentient being and I experience pain. The buddha taught that although pain was an inescapable – even necessary – part of life, we compounded that pain into great suffering by trying to escape it, or believing we were somehow above pain. “I’m too sexy for my suffering.” And then we feel betrayed when the inevitable happens. We blamed the world, our god, or ourselves for our pain and so created a universe of blame and retribution. Ignorance of this basic condition lead us to a variety of suffering from domestic violence to global warfare.

However, the Buddha saw there was the possibility of cessation of our suffering. Pain was inevitable, but suffering was a choice. Buddha felt it important to see where we were making that choice. If we were to train the mind to accept responsibility for our suffering, we could train our body, speech, and mind toward its cessation. Buddha then laid out an 8-fold path to liberation that led his adherents to renounce attachment to the people, places and things that kept them in darkness. Renunciation was not intended as a punishment for an original sin. In Buddhist thought, we are born perfect, but psychological and societal gravity pulls us away from our natural state.  In Buddhism, renunciation is means to turn our minds from the attachments that bind us to liberation. Anything to which we are attached, we are bound to. All of us are bound to things that are important to us, such as our family. But what are the things we are attached to that take too high a toll on our freedom. What are the things in our life that keep us on a path to liberation, and what are the things that are keeping us bound to ignorance? In Buddhism we call tis learning what to accept and what to reject. And to that end, the Buddha developed a system of conduct called the Vinaya. The purpose of the Vinaya was to offer followers a structure to allow them to distance themselves from the people, places, thoughts, and things that supported their suffering. In order to recognize and renounce attachments that were unhealthy, vows were recommended to refrain from killing, stealing, sexual misconduct, lying and intoxication. Over the years, as the Sangha grew, and lay persons and people whose lives offered less capacity for strict adherence came to follow the path, these rules became guidelines open to interpretation. In fact, a primary principle of Buddhism is that the means should never upstage the purpose.

The Buddha taught that our lives were in transition.  So, to reduce our life down to false binaries is impractical and incorrect.  The point of the Buddha’s early teaching was self-liberation.  The method was to follow a path toward that end. The tools helped to free us from the addiction to our attachments so we can see clearly.  But the methods are intended to support the path, hence the methods are provisional. Methods are variable. They work as long as they work. But we are instructed not to mistake the finger pointing to the moon as the moon itself.

Therefore, as the Buddha’s teachings developed, the methods changed. Zen Buddhism is different from Vajrayana Buddhism, which is different from Theravada. Buddhism in the west is its own expression. The commonality to all of these expressions is that they are rooted in the belief that we are born as we should be and our lives can be led by a path positioned toward greater awareness of ourselves and our world. Each expression of Buddhism has its own methods. It is considered a rookie mistake to be an unwavering adherent to any method. Renunciation is not abstinence. Renunciation stepping back from an attachment in order to see more clearly. Sometimes this happens all at once, and sometimes incrementally. Renunciation may require abstinence in some cases. or for some period for those who cannot work safely with the person, place, or thing. There is no shame in that. But abstinence is not the point. The point is liberation. And liberation is not another jail we place ourselves in. Liberation is the vast space beyond our imprisonment that we can grow into.

Another commonality to the schools of Buddhism is the application of the middle way free of extremes. This principle suggests that we eschew violent tendencies such as devout zealotry on one hand, or the wholesale rejection of all spirituality on the other, looking instead to the sanity of the central path. We don’t have to be the first in order to prove anything, nor the last to prove we don’t need anything. To the extremist, renunciation is al or nothing abstinence.  And while that may work in some cases, it is the wrong approach in many others. Buddhism is above all practical. So, we have to define where it is our path is leading. If we are heading toward liberation then slow even steps, with great forgiveness is best. Some say progress instead of perfection. Perfectionism is a great way to build ego. 

So, the Buddha broke his fast to attain the strength to gain full awareness. Likewise, many Tibetan people eat meat when their metabolisms require it. There is scant vegetation at 16,000 feet and red meat is important for the long winters. And just as Tibetan Buddhists broke from some Indian traditions, so later generations who have grown up in India or the west are breaking Tibetan traditions by going back to vegetarianism. Times change. So, methods change. What thus far has remained constant is that the path begins with acknowledgment of our suffering, its cause, and the possibility of its cessation, and continues with further refinement of our experience to great understanding of ourselves and our world. Renunciation is an important tool. It is “the foot of meditation, as is taught.” But that tool is there to guide us toward all the things we might become when we’re no longer attached to the things that bind us. In this light, the 5 precepts are considered as acknowledgements for lay persons. That when strict abstinence is impractical we pause and consider. If we decide we can safely include alcohol in our lives, we might pause before each glass and remember that this is a powerful substance that requires our attention. If our intention is t o enjoy our life, we might resolve to keep our attention throughout the evening. If, on the other hand, we are not clear of our intention, then we get what providence gives us. For people who decide that abstinence is best it is not recommended that we realize that others have the freedom to make their own choices and follow their own path, remembering that abstinence is just tool for our personal liberation, not a law for the world to follow. Abstinence is a sometimes necessary shut door. It is saying no. I give this up because it no longer has a place in my life. Renunciation is an offering, an opening to the path. We offer this as a way of saying yes to everything else.

There were two monks from a strictly adherent order walking back from the market. They came upon a woman standing before a river, who was too slight to wade across.  One of the monks offered to carry her over, and did so. On the other side, she thanked them and went about her way. The monks headed in the other direction and walked for a time in silence.  Finally, the monk who had abstained from helping the woman was unable to contain himself. “You broke your vow by touching that woman!” he yelled, his face turning redder than his robes.  The other monk smiled and replied, “I let he go back at the river. Though it seems you are still carrying her.”

 

 

PATIENCE AND TRUST

DEVELOPING ELEGANCE IN EVERYDAY LIFE

Patience and trust are talked about in many ways. But I want to look at them from an energetic perspective. How does patience feel? How does it feel when we trust ourselves?

Usually, our stream of thinking runs with a great deal of momentum. The faster we move the more we believe our intentions are right. We might push past people on the street or push through conversations trying to assert ourselves. The more we are challenged and feel triggered, the more our focus narrows and our intention becomes more important.  WW become more important, at least to ourselves. Are we listening when this happens? Can we see the world around us? Or, is our inner story eclipsing the outer reality?

With meditation practice we gain familiarity with ourselves and come to notice red fl

ags in our hurried speech or tightening body. These are known respectively as mindfulness of speech and mindfulness of body. Over time we learn to slow down enough to carry that mindfulness through to action. We are able to recognize these flags as reminders to pause. In this way we are developing mindfulness of life. Mindfulness thrives when we allow gaps in our momentum. And while a pause or gap feels irritating to our momentum driven ego mind, when we train in meditation, we are training to honor these gaps and employ them to allow space for more clarity. It doesn’t mean we are wrong or are admitting defeat. In fact, the pause may better allow us to present our case in a way it can be heard. It may also allow the other party room to respond themselves. This is a hard sell when we feel threatened, so it takes trust in ourselves. In time, we begin to trust the patient pause as we learn to trust ourselves.

In order to develop mindfulness in life, we train in two principles, patience and trust. We develop patience with ourselves when we feel when things are off and have the trust that pausing, and acceptance are needed. We develop the patience to allow space in our life, which includes patience with others.  Patience allows gaps that afford us greater awareness. By not trying to control situations, we are in control of ourselves. This takes confidence, and confidence is born of trust. When we trust ourselves, we can let go and allow the space for mindfulness. When we are mindful, we are trusting enough to allow the game to come to us. With patience we are not reacting. With trust we are developing the confidence to allow the process to unfold organically.

However, trusting ourselves is not always easy. We tend to put so much pressure on ourselves we could never reach the ideal. We think perfectionism is a means to help us excel, but as perfection is unattainable it means we ar

e always failing. What we are really doing when we don’t have patience with ourselves is learning to fail. This erodes our confidence. It is hard to trust someone who sees themselves as a failure. So, we try schemes to compensate. Maybe we rush through life so no one will see the truth. Maybe we’ll rush to judgement of others before they can judge us. Thus, life without trust engenders self-consciousness rather than self-awareness. We are so worried about ourselves we don’t have time or space to see anyone else. Therefore, we don’t trust them either. We might make up for this lack of confidence with narratives of bravado.  We might develop such defensive strength that we actually control some aspects of our lives. We might bully others into compliance. But that is not confidence. And that is not leadership. Humans are mammals. Mammals tend to follow true leadership. A wolf can sense right through to someone’s fear no matter how brave they act. And other people smell the weakness in us even when we are puffed up and exaggerating. And that exaggerated ego defense has no patience. And it is so important it has no time.

The remedy is to turn our self-consciousness into self-awareness. We learn to see ourselves and, in time, that familiarity gives us a practical connection to ourselves and our world. Instead of worrying what might go wrong, we begin to see what is going right. It is said, we don’t learn from our mistakes, we learn from our wisdom. Granted, sometimes mistakes can lead to wisdom, but our wisdom is what allows us to see better options and braver choices. Our wisdom reminds us of the value of patience, and the paucity of pretense. And when we recognize our wisdom, we see that everyone has this. All life is an expression of wisdom. Sometimes people don’t recognize theirs because we use the wrong parts of our brains. Wild animals trust themselves. Flowers, bees, and trees trust themselves. Nature is fine being as it is. Except us. Humans are the only form of life that hates itself. And as it sits atop the food chain, it has only itself to fear and attack.

It is the work of mindfulness training to give us the practical connection to reality. How it feels, how it smells, what we hear. All these points of contact allow us true confidence. This confidence allows us to trust ourselves and our world. And this trust allows us to raise our head and pause our momentum long enough to be patient. Patience allows us to synchronize with the natural rhythm of life.

In this way, we are learning to rule our world with the benevolence and kindness of a true leader.

AWAKE IN TROUBLED TIMES

CREATING THE SAFE SPACE OF LOVINGKINDNESS

 

Living in turbulent times we sometimes find it challenging to remain present. This may be because living in our turbulent minds it’s equally hard to be present. Yet remaining present is the key to actually participating in life. Life is significantly more rewarding when we are an active part of it. Significant pathologies exist when we withdraw isolation from our lives. On the other hand, connection can be seen as its antidote. Connection to each other, connection to our world, and connection to ourselves, though sometimes challenging, is what heals.

However, remaining present opens us to a lot of pain. If we are willing to be active participants in our life, we are opening ourselves up to suffering, irritation, and frustration. These days life is acutely panic inducing. Who needs horror movies when we can watch CNN? “War and rumors of war”. With climate change, poverty, the rise of racist populism, it feels like Armageddon. Armageddon as told by Steven King. Horror novels, stories and movies have long served a purpose in society as a way of fictionalizing the societies current anxieties. In this way, we were distant enough to feel like we had control. In the 50’s radioactive monsters helped to work out society’s anxiety over the bomb. Throughout the years  Hollywood served as therapist to process fear over alien invasion in the 60’s, mind control in the 70’s, and random homicides in the 80’s.  The 90’sbrought the immense popularity of  vampires and zombies and it seemed we were working through our fear of death itself.  Currently, true crime and crime procedurals are all the rage.

Why would we bother with the walking dead or dateline when we can just look out the door or even into our own bedrooms?  Maybe because when we know it’s “only a movie” we feel protected.  But, when it’s real life, our own government under siege, our forests burning, and our own life threatened, there is no buffer. Or maybe we create that buffer by blame. ‘Climate change is a leftist conspiracy. ‘Crime is due to immigrants.’ Maybe it’s the left, or maybe it’s the right. But blame often does what movies do. It distances us with fiction.

Our human race is suffering at an alarming rate. How can we remain sane? Do we compartmentalize our compassion and caring only for our own neighborhoods? What happens when our neighborhood is under attack? Historically, nations fall when people stop looking. The royalty look the other way while people are starving at their gates. Hospitals give sub-standard service to those who cannot pay, good-minded people throughout history have turned their eyes from the persecution of their own acquaintances in order to live in the bubble they have created.   We turn off the news when it’s about Gaza again. We’re tired of Sandy Hook. It’s too much already. There must be someone to blame. Poor Lucifer. He gets kicked out of paradise and then blamed for everything we do.

But blame is blind. And if we are to wake up in our life, blindness is a problem. How can we stay present, and still remain healthy and sane?  We are all victims to the vicious ignorance of the times. But we need not be defeated. It is important that we remain engaged, and yet protected from the suffering. If we are defeated by our feelings, then we are no help to anyone. The development of True Compassion is key.  “True” Compassion is not the dissociative grasp of wishful thinking (“it’ll all be good in the end”) nor the self-immolating hand wringing of narcissistic masochism (“it’s all so horrible it’s all about me”).  True Compassion is effective caring. It is effective because it is present and realistic. It is caring that is actually helpful, which is about balance. So, how can we stay empathetic and remain balanced?  Meditation theory would suggest that being fully present is key. Not just mentally present but being present in body and spirit as well as our mind. It does little good to force our mind to be compliant when our heart is aching,  And, as we know from meditation training, we don’t force ourselves into the present, especially when the present is not a place that’s easy to be, but we train our mind to return to the present. “When you lose our mind, come back” my teacher says. We can do this without recrimination or judgement. Of course we might run away from pain. But, in order to transform that pain into a healthy connection, we can gently guide ourselves back. But this is most effective if we address our full being. Our body and spirit as well as our mind. The mind will not stay present for long while the body is tapping its toes urging us to run.

In order to develop true compassion, we train in the 3 essentials. Body, mind, and heart. We train mind to remain watchful, the heart to be empathetic, and the body to be free of self-affliction. My teacher says, “may my body be firm, my heart be open, and my mind awake.” This seems a tall order, but in fact, it gives us 3 ways to work with being present. Firmness of body means that we are aware when our body unconsciously tightens in anxious pain. We often clench too quickly to avoid this, but we don’t have to fix ourselves there.  We can train to come back and be present and that awareness cuts the momentum of unconscious panic. Our breaking heart does not have to break us. It can remind us of our humanity. When we become aware of our own pain, we are reminded that we are human and it’s okay to be here. Our raging fearful mind can learn to quiet itself and see clearly. Instead of looking for a solution, or fabricating an answer to an overwhelming life problem, we can remember it may not be our job to fix anything. Instead of looking to fix what we imagine, we can remember to see what is. Body relaxed, heart open and mind awake. That is the 3 bodies of a buddha. The two keys here are remembering to return and knowing we don’t have to fix anything or anyone. Nor do we have to fix ourselves. We can train to relax and be.

This post is about the practical difference between action and reaction. When we are provoked, stimulated or triggered the mind quickly engages and wants to then enlist the body in action. The mind, for all its potential, is fundamentally a defensive tool. It enabled us to out-strategize and out-maneuver predators.  And once securing our safety, this instinctive mind turned to conquering its own prey.  Fearful and yet on the attack. This vicious cycle of life is programmed deeply within us in order to protect us and to ensure the procreation of our race. And it has worked well. Humans have become the most successful species on the planet. We are so high atop the food chain we have only ourselves to consume. However, we also eat our vegetables, as we are devouring the planet and its forests, as well.  We have survived! But surviving is not thriving. Our reactive / defensive mind has kept us alive, but for what purpose and at what cost?  If our life’s purpose is to keep alive then all we have to look forward to is fear.

Surviving can be seen as the reactive defensive mind’s preeminent purpose.  Thriving, on the other hand, is when the mind has the ability to relax and open enough to respond to life. Defensive mind is about separation and rejection. Thriving mind is about connection and conversation.   In a conversation or communication with life, we are empowering the mind’s higher purpose. The defensive mind is here to protect our higher being. However, if protection is all we have then reaction is our only option and reaction happens so quickly so reflexively so immediately that we’re actually stuck in a limited binary black and white movie. While the defensive mind is necessary, it is not intended to lead us. We are destined to much more.  With mind training, our body learns to pause the process of impulse / reaction long enough to create space for our higher mind, and its executive functions to open and see.

Training in the 4 foundations of mindfulness, body spirit, mind, and life, allows us to recognize when we are out of balance. When we are out of balance, we are like an American football quarterback throwing off their back foot. Our inaccurate desperation throws might randomly land, but likely won’t. When we are reacting, our eyes are closed. We are squinting and hoping for the best. The antidote to this panic / reaction is employing meditation training to offer us the gentle space of Lovingkindness. We are learning to not push anything away. We are learning to recognize our triggers not reacting. THIS IS ACTUALLY HUGE! Most of the time we don’t have to do anything at all, but be present. In this way, we are training ourselves to smile openly at the edges of life. Our fear is there to protect us – not control us.

The key is developing surety in our commitment to remain present whenever we can and to return as quickly as we can when we are not. The gentle insistence is how we combat the aggression of our world. Does that sound impractically pollyannaish?  Confucius would remind us that the gentle persistence of the river will cut through a mountain over time.

Just come back. Don’t be forced by the body. Just come back. Don’t be fooled by the mind. Just come back. Don’t be broken by the heart. Just come back. Come back here to life in all its truth, whenever you can, as often as you can. In this way, it is inevitable that, in time, you will also see the great good in your life.

Maybe returning to the present in troubled times, is our payment for receiving life’s blessings.

WHO’S RUNNING THIS SHIP, ANYWAY?

The great farce played upon our thinking is the uninvestigated assumption that we exist. Or more specifically, that we believe ourselves to be a permanent, independent being. Despite evidence that life is unpredictable, we act as though this was not the case. We just assume we are as we think we are. And that assumption leads to the greatest folly of all – we believe we are in control. We believe we are the bozo driving the bus, despite our GPS being disconnected.

I tend to live life from one project to the next, believing that -despite all prior experience- this time I will get it right. This diet, this financial plan, this meditation, this love. Especially this love. True Love. That’s the one that gets me. Each love I fall into becomes my center of being. I have always failed to see that my relationship to loving has all the hallmarks of classic addiction. In his masterwork, The Art of Loving, psychologist Erich Fromm defined “true love” as two people who were both ready for the same thing at the same time. He specifically nudged the reader away from the idea that we were part of something special. But, despite the slight-of-hand of hormonal urges, true love is not destiny. True love, like life itself, is a random occurrence that happened to succeed. Life is opportunistic. Einstein famously said, “God doesn’t play dice with the universe”. It seems, even a thinker as profoundly creative as Albert still searched for the occasional guarantee. If the universe doesn’t play dice it may be because dice only has 36 outcomes. The perplexing game of Go that has kept humans intrigued for 4,000 years, has less than 11,000 possible outcomes. If the universe is playing with us, It is using a much more vast and complex system than any game our brains can presently conjure. And, yet, within that ocean of possibility, we find that apple trees always breed apple trees. This interesting paradox is central to our existential being. Life is random and there are repetitive patterns throughout.

So perhaps there is a pattern to the chaos? So far in our development, humans have always bred humans. But the configuration of any human psychology is a mix of recognizable patterns and random occurrence. In general, we will cling to familiar patterns and ignore possibility. In fact, strangely, we will cling to painful patterns rather than look to an undiscovered alternative. Or even, a newer pattern that brings relief from the pain. It has been said that the mind needs 90 days to fully change a pattern. And this, all the while knowing we must change. We could be killing ourselves and yet our survival instinct, as powerful as it is, is hijacked by some nefarious conditioned need. When we are enthralled in the euphoria of addiction, crawling down the mole hole in fear, or habitually trying to milk pleasure from stones, we are blinded to the alternatives. We mistake the moment for the fantasy, as we compulsively perform the same experiment again and again. And we know what Albert said about that.

Perhaps, God is playing a shell game. Despite astronomical odds of being, once life occurs, it believes itself to be the center of all things. In our small part of the universe,  once conceived, we created an uberbeing fashioned after ourselves – replete with similar attributes, gender and political affiliations. Then we knew we were at the center of the universe and that everything was going according to plan. Ironically, feeling we were the center of all things, separated us from each other and the universe altogether. You see, when we believe we are the center of the universe, our life, or our family, then everything around us is only a projection. We see what we believe, which is to say, we see nothing but ourselves. And on some basic level this is very lonely. On some basic level, below all the games we play to keep us occupied, we are naked, cold and lonely.  Because of this, we cling to all the tangible things that we feel provide us surety.  And as we can reach out and touch these things, we feel to be in control, and so we never look beyond ourselves. We never see that if we were the center of anything it was the “vicious wheel of quivering meat conception” as Kerouac called samsara. We believe that the next thing we grasp will be the real thing and, although we’ve reached for that very thing time and time again, next time we’ll get there.

But, it’s our choice isn’t it? I mean it’s my life, I can run in circles if I like.

Trungpa Rinpoche called this the “myth of freedom.” Spinning on the wheel of samsara can be exhilarating.  It can keep us so occupied we never have to see how naked, alone or frightened we really are. But, what happens when the wheel stops? One of the most frightening things, existentially speaking, is space. But just as “Steamboat Willie” is comforting to us, they are an imaginary narrative based on quickly flickering frames. Moving pictures move so quickly we believe it’s actually happening.  Movies create the illusion of life by flickering 23 still-images a second, too fast for our eyes to see the s p a c e between each frame. But that space provides a glimpse into the possibility beyond. And that space is a crack in the belief systems we establish to prove we exist. In this way, our anxiety drives us relentlessly forward. Flickering images create the illusion that we are steering the ship.

In the same way, we believe we must steer the ship, lest we fall in and drown. But we may be holding the wheel so tightly, we never see that the ocean we’re steering across is an endless sea of undefinable change.

THE BURNING CHILD

HEALING THE BROKEN PLACES

The child that is not embraced by the village will burn it down just to feel its warmth.

– African proverb

In a culture conditioned to a linear understanding of causes and conditions we assign blame to a problem, focusing our ire on the object of blame. In extreme cases, we might describe a perpetrator as inhuman, animalistic, or assign them superhuman attributes such as being “pure evil” or “monstrous.” In any case, we are protected from implicating ourselves in the problem.

When emotions run high, the fear mind takes over and latches onto simple answers. And naturally, we believe we are right. This feeling of righteousness wants retribution and dismisses the inclusion of societal and familial issues as pandering snowflakery. The Buddha spoke of Karma as the law of cause and effect. He also spoke of the interdependence of every event to all else. Despite conditioned tendencies toward black and white binaries, the Buddha saw that the causes of any event are myriad and nuanced. This would seem frustrating to the raging defensive mind latching onto rightandwrong. But a reactive mind is generally devoid of nuance or compassion. Compassion doesn’t mean kindness to those who’ve caused harm. It means understanding those who cause harm.

When we assign blame, we are forcing reality into a binary. A binary which has ourselves and our value systems as the prime arbiter. This is good and evil from the way we see it. And the angrier we become the narrower our focus. This might be a factor in why people of color are incarcerated at higher rates than whites in our predominantly white culture. When we are seeing it our way, what of those who don’t conform? But is this willed ignorance only creating time bombs? What are we missing when we push some aside? And are those shadowed voices so needing to be heard that they will grow in ire until they erupt in violence?  The Buddhist teachings on compassion are unequivocal in their directives that we see beyond our parochial beliefs and begin to understand others.  Are we able to step back and see those we demonize? Only recently, a court found the parents of a son accused of gun violence as culpable. Was this a groundbreaking step in widening perspective or was it just shifting the binary? Looking at the home, looking at the school, looking at the community and looking at the gun communities and legislation tied to the influence of economic pressure are all ways that violence is interconnected. So, as the Buddha taught, Karma is complicated.  Then how do we manage the overwhelming preponderance of information that is karmic cause and condition?

What can we do?

Blame is not doing. Nor are platitudes. Nor are promises. How do we begin right here right now? We all have a child, either in our family or in our heart, who needs care and support. But are we listening? Or are we shunting the child aside as we are consumed by our busy lives? Are we in fact ashamed of the child? Are we embarrassed by the snowflakery of caring for an inner child? All too often in our society and our heart we are pushing the children away. Ignoring the most potent and important part of the village. In many indigenous cultures, villages cared for their children. This not only created homecare for stressed parents, but also allowed a wider perspective for the child to grow. This wider perspective also helped to moderate any neurosis the caregiver might pass on the child. A village based on community is self-healing and co-supportive. In this way the child can grow with freedom to become healthy versions of themselves, not reactive copies of a copy of their parents. In some cultures, criminals and those with mental illness were taken into counsel with the elders of the community. This is a healing circle. The view is that connection is healing and isolation, whether by social ostracism or mental evasion, encourages infirmity. The places we hide in our mind may be protective. But they are also places we fail to grow. They are the burning children of our hearts waiting to be heard, held, and understood.

A view of compassion may be that we have the capacity to be our own village. And maybe we can extend our view outward and see others as ourselves. We are all hurting and unheard. Maybe by awareness we can begin to see and heal the places within ourselves that are keeping us in darkness. And maybe we can learn to give expression to the wounded children that so desperately need our love. One way to illuminate the darkness is to burn the village. Another way is to touch the heart and allow that child to be accepted as they are before that happens. Perhaps the flames of anger can be softened into the warmth of compassion.

Compassion can be seen as the transformation of hatred into empathy. We don’t have to fear the flames. We can hold them and allow their rage to soften into warmth.

The picture is from photo sessions for the album WAR by U2.

 

GIVING UP CONTROL

    … and Stepping Beyond Fear

One of the ways we rob ourselves, and reduce our life is by demanding ownership of our experience. And ownership implies controlling the process and the outcome of what we own. But our life is not property. Life is a self-existing dynamic with our past and our world, unfolding naturally as a flower grows and unfolds. Ideally. But, as it is our life, we want what we want to occur in ways we want them to occur. And we want this in our time-frame. Like standing over a flower and yelling at it to grow faster. Or, maybe we are shaming, intimidating or manipulating the flower. Or maybe, more generously, we try coaching the flower to be its best self.

I hate that ‘best self’ thing. I’d like to tell the best-selfers to find their best self someplace away from me.  Best self implies that there are unfortunates below, and those we aspire to above. But aspirations can be limiting. I know this is the opposite of what is meant by aspiration, but what are we usually aspiring to? Someone else’s value of success? Some way of finding love when we believe we are unlovable?  Maybe we are basing our future on trying to rectify a broken past?

Or maybe we just want it our way.

With all respect to Frank and Sid, that my way thing is odd. Do we even know what my way is? All I know is that my way is a demand on our future. It is an expectation. An expectation based on what we know so far. This precludes any knowledge we might develop, or changes that are unforeseen. But life is unforseen. Expectations are a recipe for disappointment and disappointments breed resentment.  So we are locked in the ouroboros cycle searching for the definite in an undefinable world. This leads to further resentment.  Resentments are like cold condiment bottles from the back of the fridge we can’t seem to throw away. Resentments rob our life of joy. Suppose we just cleaned the fridge? Suppose we tossed out that old mayo turning gelatinous yellow? Why do we keep holding on to it? Are we hoping to meet someone with baloney and bread who needs us? But that mayo’s no good now, son. In fact it’s dangerous. Just let it go.

Most aspirations and expectations lead us to carry resentment. Are we trying to fill something lacking? We believe we are less-than and so shout in the mirror that we will change. We swear it. We promise it. And when it doesn’t happen, we ignore that and begin the cycle again fueled by resentment aspiring to change this time. When we don’t lose 10lbs, we try to lose 30. Maybe all we want is to be a version of ourselves that we can live with. All of these projections are based on what we already know and ignore all that we might become if we learn to let go. We are clinging tightly out of panic to the straws on the shore afraid of where the river will flow.  Although straws won’t save us, they are not the problem. The problems come when we clench our eyes and hold to the straws, (the person, the moment or the memory) with such tenacity that we miss what is actually happening. We are still singing that song about the one that got away as we miss all the others asking us to dance. Sometimes I think we do this deliberately, specifically so we don’t have to try something new. It’s a peculiarity of humans that we will choose what we don’t want over what we don’t know. We will choose pain we have had over the possibility of a cessation of pain we haven’t experienced. Hamlet didn’t fear the sleep of death. He feared “what dreams may come”.

We choose the devil we know, I guess. The problem is we never know. Even the devil doesn’t know. The unexamined life leads to dancing with one devil we know after the next, just so we have a semblance of control. But the only way to have control over life is to reduce that life down to a very small space. Even then, none of us are really ever in control. And, although that won’t keep us from trying, the river of life will do its thing, as it does. It doesn’t need us. It is actually not our life at all, but an experience we are invited to take part in. And the more we try and wrestle it into submission the more we feed our discontent. The river flows where it will no matter what straws we cling to or plans we make. Our need to control the flow does nothing to enhance our journey, it just makes the ride cumbersome and inelegant.

So are we to just roll over and play dead? Have we no say in our life, even to lead a virtuous life? I believe we have every say if we release control and gain agency. Control is blind clinging based on fear. Agency is an awakened flow state based on acceptance. As the only way to effectively approximate control is to limit possibilities, we are allowing fear to reduce our life. But if we are in acceptance of what our life is, and where it is growing, then we can navigate our journey on the path. In order to navigate, we have to have our eyes open. We must see where we are in order to have any hope of influencing where we are going.  And then we have to develop the mindfulness to pay attention as life unfolds. If we are awake and present, then life will show us where it leads. And then we can make an awake decision on how best to follow.

Finally, we have to be willing to work with fear and not succumb to the need to “do it my way.” Working with fear is acceptance of fear. It’s a willingness to allow fear to guide us. Fear is important for our survival, but it does not have to control us. If we accept our fear, we can use it as a stepping stone into the unknown. Rather than reacting to fear by reducing our world to habitual behaviours we have done time and time again. However, if we relax with our fear we can respond to life and all its dangers with creativity and spontaneity. We can try and control the path and predict outcomes to keep us from pain. But, pain is inevitable. If we accept this, and are willing to rest with our fear in the present, we might become an engaged partner in life.  Like being seated and balanced in the Kayak, we can navigate the flow if we keep our eyes open.