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.

 

 

AWAKENING

AWAKENING TO EMOTIONS

Every moment we become aware is a new beginning. Each time we come back to ourselves and the moment we are inhabiting, we have a fresh start. Although, most of the time the “stains” or attachments of our previous moments linger. So we enter our new moment with some baggage. Have you ever awoken in a good mood, only to remember you were in a break up, or had just lost a job and so felt obligated to go back to suffering?

Acknowledging how we are actually feeling is an important step in our fresh start. “I’m still feeling guilty”, “I’m still angry”. Felt senses often remain, like a veil over our next moment. Wiping the sleep from our eyes, we sometimes wake in the morning with echoes of our night’s dreaming like a cloak around us. Sometimes we don’t remember the details of the dream, but the feeling remains. Maybe this points to something peculiar in our daily life. The story is often ephemeral, while the feelings are more tangible. This experience is the opposite of our conventional approach where we believe thoughts and ignore our feelings. We attach to our version of events while diminishing or ignoring how we feel.  But our version of events relies on thoughts. And thoughts are notoriously unreliable.

Feelings, on the other hand, are happening in real time, in our body.

Trauma is often long past, but residual feelings from that pain may be happening now. So, we believe if we investigate the story, we will find a way of resolving the feeling. And perhaps this is sometimes helpful, but the way we feel right now is the best way to release the turmoil our body is creating in the moment. Feel the feeling. Don’t define it, or judge it. Just feel and sense where your body is reacting.  Feelings keep generating and updating the trauma narrative, so the actual events have morphed into entirely new scenarios. Often we take these iterations as fact, and dismiss our feelings as fantasy. And sadly, we often transfer the past scenario onto the present or the future. We are regretful of the past and gunshy of the present as we plan for a catastrophic future.

Understanding emotions begins with a willingness to accept our feelings right here, right now. It develops as that familiarity allows us to become less and less afraid of them  At some point we may realize that we can honor our feelings just as they are. That life is enriched by our feelings. In fact, our feelings and emotions might be the most human thing about our lives. The pain in our heart is what characterizes humanity. It is also happening now. If we are willing to accept and look into the felt senses, our discomfort might guide us more deeply into our life. It’s possible that although we re often afraid of our feelings and dismissive of emotions, feelings and emotions are the point of living.

Often emotional being is frequently described as an inner child. And like a child, we can learn to love and care for our broken heart so that our feelings become less crusty and defensive, and more tender. To some this seems a weakness. But it is the unfeeling crust of our defenses that create a calcification of our natural empathy and compassion. Our life becomes warped around our defenses. Our body holds tension in a misguided attempt to outrun our past. Our mind reiterates and projects catastrophe in a misguided attempt to protect ourselves from the future. And so the “bandits of hope and fear” rob us of the present. And the most important part of our life is happening in the present.

As with children, our fear of the responsibility might cause us to push them away or try to control their experiences. We might feel that our anger and anxiety are necessary to protect them. But is that the best way to protect them? The children are the point, not the obstacle. And while we can honor our children and our inner child, we can’t let then lead. Children need leadership and guidance as well as love. In the same way, working with emotions implies work. How can we honor our feelings, but still incorporate our intelligence so that we can protect our heart and ourselves? The answer begins right here. Come back. Release judgement. Allow the experience to unfold. See that the child is its own being and learn to de-fuse our reactive defenses and see them as other. I have fear. I have anger. I have jealousy. But I am not those things. I am the awake being that experiences but doesn’t identify. I am the awake being that allows. I am the awake being that cares. But I am not longer a child. I am the awake being that holds the child and allows it to grow.

And just as children grow, our emotions will change if we are not clinging to them. This is called “holding open space.” Be present but allow the changes to happen. Anger may turn to sadness, sadness to openness, openness to courage. We can protect our heart and still allow it to breath. In fact, we can allow it to sing and to dance and to love.

I love the story about how in modern times we need to describe feelings and proscribe an antidote. When a patient is depressed doctors administer medication which implies treating a disease. We often identify with our diagnosis. “I am bipolar”. “I am neurodivergent.” I have adhd.” And these become defects we try and change. In native cultures when a depressed person came to the healer the healer would ask “when did you stop dancing”. “When did you stop singing?”  Maybe there is nothing to fix and everything to love. Loving our sadness, loving our pain, loving our tenderness, loving our joy. These are the doorways to our life.

Notice. Accept. Feel. Release.

This is awakening.

 

 

THE UNRELIABLE WITNESS

We are not what we think.

This is frequently heard in meditation circles. The path of meditation serves to uncover the fickleness of our thought process so that we can see beyond ourselves. Our thoughts don’t define us, as much as keep us entertained. If we give ourselves over to the path of meditation, we might end up finding there is more to ‘me’ than we thought.

Many of us want to change. We feel if we can do this, or adopt that, drink this, or stop eating that, life will be better. WE will be better.  However, if we have pre-conditions as to what change should be, we will likely change into versions of what we know. Instead of allowing change to change us, we want to control the outcome. But nothing in life is entirely as we expect. When I stopped drinking I had very grand ideas of how I would improve. I thought I needed these expectations for motivation. I will be thinner without the calories, I will be clearer in my life goals, I will make more money.  Naturally, as expectations set up discouragement, grand expectations are the precondition for great disappointment. So, like many, so often, I fell off the wagon in frustration. I would build myself up only to be let down. And this led me back to the same patterns for comfort. Whether I was so amazing or disheartened, this game kept spinning until finally my discouragement led me to just crash and, in exhaustion, just stay there. Once I got over the shock of not having the old pattern to rely on, I slowly began to see a life beyond my expectations. And it began and ended right here on the earth.

I saw what my Buddhist teachers were always pointing toward, that life was beyond my ability to control or define. That was the bad news and the good news. Rather than living out the patterns of my conditioning, life became more about discovery. Instead of believing that my ideas were real, I could STFU and see what was actually happening. Life from the vantage of my cushion was clearer.  There is an old saying “disappointment is the chariot of liberation”. As much as it hurts to hit bottom, if we are patient and willing to stay with ourselves, we might begin to see life more clearly. The path of meditation practice is one of removing the scales, or dropping the veils, that obscure reality. We become quite taken with our powerful minds. Mind is an amazing tool if we are able to access our higher power and see the fluctuations of our thought process. It could be said that even our mind is not what we think. It is much more than that. However, we limit its potential by iterating the reiterations of our thoughts again and again. But while our mind is vast, our thinking brain is only seeing what it has been conditioned to see. How much do we believe what we’ve been taught? And, while much of that serves us well, it is simply not all there is to life.  When a student of Trungpa, Rinpoche asked a particularly complicated and confused question he would lovingly say “it seems you are not a reliable witness.”

Really? but this is my life and my mind! I’ll do it my way! Well, okay then, but don’t complain when the outcome is always the same. And while we’re tightening the grip on our opinions, we fail to see that opinions keep changing. We fall in love with that perfect person only to realize this was not the one. We might move from town to town, or change our room or our hair color trying to define that illusive “me”.  We go from remedy to remedy to staunch the same wounds. We keep eliciting people in our lives to help us work through the same scenarios. Caught in the turbulence of needs, wants and desires we believe anything that will keep us from crashing. But, maybe crashing is just what we need. Maybe we need to hit bottom.

When asked about enlightenment, Trungpa said it may be at our lowest point. We fancifully think of a sage on the mountaintop or a bearded all know it all in the clouds. But maybe liberation is right here. Letting the ego jenga fall around us so we can begin to see what is there. The path of meditation is said to lead to “valid cognition.” We begin to boycott the hall of mirrors of our discursive mind and step past the veil into seeing things are they are. And that cannot be predetermined. How could it? Once we step from telling and retelling ourselves what other people have told us to tell ourselves, we might see life enfolding in real time. In meditation practice, everytime we recognize our distraction, and come back to the breath we are pushing the veil aside. In time, as we stop believing in the dramas, we can just let the veil be. When we realize it’s not real we can smile at the fabrictions we create. Smile and let go. Smile and return to the breath. Sakyong Mipham refers to this as the “displaysive quality of mind.” It is the mind displaying its creativity. The idea is to let it go, so that the display can be fresh and creative. Thoughts are like rainbow paintings. Watercolors on a rainy sidewalk. They can be quite beautiful. They can be frightening. But they can’t hurt, if we don’t believe them. Thinking is a radio in another room. If I believe it’s about me I’m holding on to the airwaves. I’m making the display solid. And that kills creativity.

Believing our thinking is a rookie mistake. It’s spiritually naive. If we keep recognizing we are caught, and returning to what is real right now, in the present, we will begin to stabilize the mind. Stability of mind is the requisite condition for clarity. When we see clearly, we know what is. And that is ever changing. And rarely ever what we expect.

IN LIVING SERVICE

IN LIVING SERVICE – Commemorating the Life of Dr. King

I’m writing on the day set aside to commemorate the life and service of Dr. Martin Luther King, which this year falls on his actual birthdate, Jan 15. To many, it marks a time to reflect on our lives and the contribution to peace, equality and understanding we may be making. It is also a day of remembrance of a fellow human who took on the superhuman task of changing the mind of the world in the face of great opposition.

And to some it is a day off. And, if so, I hope you have a good day. But, I wonder what we’re taking a day away from? Chogyam Trungpa, when asked if he ever took a day off responded, “a day off from what?” I heard an interview with Yolanda Renee King and Martin Luther King III and they asked that anyone willing might reflect on their service to the Doctor’s vision today. I thought, what service can I provide today? Reaffirming my commitment to this view, which is none other than the view of the Bodhisattva, is a good start. But am I actively supporting that view or just paying spiritual lip service?  What service commitment do I have to my fellows and what actions may I take to further that commitment. And do I ever take a day off?

From the point of view of the Way of The Bodhisattva, we ground our effort in the primary vow of not causing harm to self or others. This very much equates to Dr. King’s commitment to nonviolence. So, any compassionate action is primarily based on an important non-action, or what Buddhists refer to as renunciation. You might look at it as an offering our attachment to violence. I am letting go of aggression in order to support love. That might seem obvious, but so much hatred and destruction is seen as justified retaliation for wrongs endured.  It seems a natural response. However fire answering fire burns everything.  Aggression is forever at the ready for any human unable, or unwilling, to see further.  A commitment to nonviolence urges us to look beyond an easy reaction.  In most cases, aggression is about self-protection. In renouncing violence we have little alternative but to communicate with others. Although nonviolence is the necessary first commitment, our service has to be built on a positive view. The addict puts down the drug, but is being clean and sober sustainable if they have nothing to live for? Once we put down the drug of violence, like the newly sober addict, we are naked and alone. We need faith to sustain us. Sobriety cannot be the goal, it must be our life, one day at a time. But where is our renunciation heading?

The Bodhisattva’s next vow is to offer service to the world and to try to relieve the suffering of bengs. The Dalai Lama said, “Do what you can to help others. And if you can’t help them, at least don’t hurt them.” These are the two foundational vows. Our view is to help the world, which is an aspirational vow and our commitment is to not cause harm, which is our requisite, one breath at a time.  And should we fall off the wagon? Well, the only remedy is to get back on. Unlike other drugs, aggression is so ingrained in our consciousness, we will likely fall back on it, believing in a panicked moment that it is the only answer to justice. But, when it becomes clear that we are only creating more hatred for ourselves and our world, the work is to go back to renunciation.  Just lay down the sword.  Once we are back we can see that violence is usually self-serving. It is aggression masquerading as helping others. We are lashing out in the name of justice.  But in truth, we panicked. We are triggered. We are not acting mindfully.  Perhaps violence needs to be employed in some instances. But, as violence begets violence, who’s violence is justified? In global conflict, warfare is often influenced by the constituency of the aggressors. Leaders want to stay in power. Their violence, hatred and bigotry are self-serving. It’s easier to amass power by rallying against a foe than to offer understanding. But, which approach is more sustainable? The fact that our societies are based on principles of defence makes it seem so. This is how life is. To many, life is a bloodsport with winning as the only goal. But, winning what, exactly? A bruised and torn world?

Dr. King saw that picking up arms against his enemies was selfish and self-defeating no matter how justified it felt. Many of his followers advocated violence, as though violence toward the populace would end in justice for all and happiness. Dr. King saw this as folly.  He told his followers that they would be playing into their enemies’ strength. Bigots have been practicing aggression for their entire lives, he told them.  So, he proposed an alternative. He said that God told us to love our enemy.  And then with characteristic skillfulness added, ‘he didn’t say we had to like them.’  In this way, he proposed using love as a method. Love is greater than hatred. Our very existence is proof of this. We are all products of love. We can look to the world with love and see possibility, or we can look to our world in hatred and see life shutting down. But, saying love is stronger than hatred, or peace is greater than violence, is just the view.  Love is not possible without daily renunciation and daily action.  It seems humans must retake these vows again and again. I will not react in hatred. I will foster love. I will not choose the limited method of violence no matter how powerful it feels. I will choose possibility. Love itself is just a word. Love without renunciation and action is just a hallmark card. But actively working to renounce hatred and to foster understanding can be a daily path. In this way, we are living a life of service, one day at a time.  As long as there is life to live for, there are no days off.

The Bodhisattva’s ultimate vow is service to the world. It is recommended that this offering of service be made with the Mahayana view of “no giver, no gift and no receiver”. This is to say that our offering of love and understanding to the world may have no immediate effect. It may even seem the opposite. Our giving may not aggrandize ourselves at all. We may gain nothing but the strength to continue. And that strength will grow, because we are choosing life. Service is not about us. It’s about living for the world. It’s about gently, but persistently, moving the wheel toward life. And all of this begins in our own heart. The choice can be quite subtle. It can be in our own mind, in our own thoughts. Judging, manipulating, lying are acts of aggression as they lead to separation and isolation. Caring, listening and understanding are choosing connection to life. And addicts know addiction is bred in isolation and recovery develops with connection.

Opening the heart is opening to life. It is not easy. It takes daily work to change ourselves. And it will take daily work to encourage the world to change. It will require a life of living service.

SPECTRUM OF ATTACHMENT

I wrote a wonderful post about the power of letting go.  And then somehow my laptop ate it, and I lost the post in the either. Just gone. Fitting, no?  Not only was I forced to let go of my oh so brilliant hard work, but I also had to stop my futile attempts to salvage it. And then I had to stop trying to rewrite it.

Letting go, it seems, is letting go. And now the post is about attachment, of course.

So here goes…

 

THE SPECTRUM OF ATTACHMENT – THE STRONGER OUR NEED, THE GREATER WE CLING

Pema Chodron once said, the Buddha was someone who walked out the door, and just kept walking. HIs life stands as a testament of liberation from economic, spiritual or emotional encumberments.  Many people interpret this to mean that attachments are bad, and that we should let go of everything at all cost. But while renunciation is the foot of meditation, once we have loosened our grip on things, the path to liberation continues back to service to our world. What about our families, friends and communities? And what of the Buddha’s own family? Were they actually smiling beatifically  in shining light as he walked away? Probably not, as they undoubtedly had their own attachments. It always hurts to free our attachments. Sometimes it has to happen for our own growth and the health of others. But, when we do release the attachment, it’s possible to come back with a fresh perspective. Siddhartha left family and position, but when he became awakened, the Buddha gathered sangha and his family around him in a community of wakefulness. 

It is possible to see the path of the Buddha in stages. The blissful ignorance of his self absorbed privilege, the renunciation of entitlement, his enlightenment, and his return to the world as a teacher, healer and sage. The first stages can be seen as allegorical. We are kept in the darkness of comfortable entitlement until we give in to the nagging internal pressure to discover what else there is for us. In order to do that, we might turn away from our attachment to the life we know, especially if that attachment is causing pain for ourselves or others. At some point, however, we might return to the things with which we were attached with love and awareness and in so doing find healthy ways to express our love. Modern psychologists talk of attachment theory, delineating a spectrum of pathological and healthy attachments. From the perspective of our spiritual path, we can look at the phenomenon of attachment and similarly see it has positive and negative qualities depending on our intention. Aside from seeing its positive possibilities, we might even see that demonizing attachment is in itself an attachment. It all depends on our intention.

When we are feeling confident, comfortable and content, we are less likely to cling to our attachments. The worse we feel, the lower our self-assessment, the harder we cling to things. This clinging becomes a panicked grasping at golden straws, enticing but ultimately without essence.  The more we cling , the more we strangle the object of our clinging and the less we are able receive sustenance from our connection. When we don’t receive sustenance, our hunger grows. The hungrier we are, the more we cling. THe more we cling, the less we see. This is a shame, particularly when the things to which we are clinging are important to us. So we have an understandable attachment. But when we lose our sense of self-worth, we begin to grip and cling. Then we stop seeing the object. We have gone from appreciation to need. At that point, we no longer see the object of our clinging for who they are. They have become merely bling in our narcissistic ensemble, accessories to our masquerading. Even those we pretend to love become conflated into two dimensional tools. How often are we not seen even surrounded by those who profess to love us? We are objects of attachment. This feels hollow. And when we feel hollow? The reflexive remedy is for us to cling to something else.

But it is important to remember the doctrine of Basic Goodness. If we are able to see the goodness in anything, we can develop the ability to understand it. Attachment is the same energy, in essence, as mindfulness. The word for mindfulness in Tibetan is “Trenpa” which means “to hold to”. But mindfulness in the meditative sense implies awareness. And attachment in the pathological sense implies non-awareness.  This apparent binary can be seen more clearly as a spectrum that extends from the open awareness of appreciation to the bling panic grasping of reflex. The role of confidence is key. Confidence allows us to hold to that which we love with  open palms. Confidence, or you may say faith allows us to see and appreciate the things we love. Confidence also allows us to let them grow and become what they are meant to be. On the other hand, the greater our feeling of emotional poverty, the more need. The more we need, the more fearful we are, and the tighter we cling. The tighter we cling, the less we see. The less we see the more fearful we are, the tighter we cling. So our work is to begin to see this process, so that we can honor our world instead of trying to control it. 

I have developed a map of the spectrums to help recognize the stages of mindfulness / attachment. But the basic point is, are we opening up in confident awareness or shutting down in reaction to fear?

This is not a solid system. In fact, it’s pretty much made up. You can create your own map, or your own words. Although, I am particularly attached to mine, so here we go:

PERCEPTION > APPRECIATION > OPENING > CONFIDENCE > INQUISITIVENESS > COMMUNICATION / GROWTH >

PERCEPTION > FEAR > NARROWING > PROJECTION > OWNERSHIP > IDENTIFICATION > ADDICTION / ISOLATION

 

 

EVERY WAKING STEP

EVERY WAKING STEP

I am writing this on the first day of the solar calendar year. New Year’s Day is seen as a time of renewal and stepping forward. However, most of us are working through the fog of our hangovers, as we try to remember what it was we’re moving past as we tentatively stumble toward wherever it is we’re going.

We have funny glasses and lipstick stains and a raging headache. Even I, who have been clean and sober for several years, are working off a sugar and carb rush from gorging on bad food. Why? To prove I’m happy. Sometimes my life feels like a series of emotional selfies trying to convince myself of something.  And so we begin the new year already buried in the past. We have grand resolutions, so inspiring today that we’ll maybe forget them in a week. In my drinking days, I would crumble the life around me, just to see myself build it back. I had a friend who told me I was simultaneously anal expulsive and anal retentive. Clean it up and tear it down. Clean it up and tear it down. And part of this crazy cycle were the outsized resolutions I would make. Inspirations that became obligations, forgotten soon enough that would be resurrected next year.  We all wish for world peace.

But what would it be like to appreciate each moment in my life? What would it be like to actually be present for my life? This would necessarily be a very slow process. One step at a time. Thich Nhat Hanh said “peace in every moment”. Bill Wilson suggested “one day at a time.” Ram Das wrote “Be Here Now.” What if this year my resolution was not an outsized or grand demand, that leads to disappointment? What if instead I resolved to step one foot after the next in humble acceptance of my life as it unfolds?  Acceptance need not be resignation. Patience need not be grin-and-bearing our pain. Acceptance of the moment can be a relief. I don’t have to try at life. I can just be. Accepting ourselves and our life as it is. Acceptance means finding life’s rhythm and dancing along. And humility suggests that we can fit into life instead of forcing life to submit to our fleeting and ever changing demands. This would reduce life down to that which we can predict or conceive. The only way we control anything is to reduce it down to a small enough space to manipulate.  Life should be bigger than we are. Life could be a space into which we can grow. And when life becomes too much, linstead of warring against the inevitable, we can learn to shift disappointment to encouragement.  Remembering to dance and to sing. Releasing the grip of demand on our life is a relief.

Remembering those we have lost as an inspiration for us to live. No one that had truly loved us would want their passing to diminish our lives.  The ones we have loved may be gone, but our love for them remains. If they loved us they would wish for us to love ourselves. In fact, it may be that there is an essential element of the universe that wants desperately to love us, if we would only learn to let it.

This year, I will burn the to-do list, even for a day. This year my bucket list will have nothing on it. This year I resolve to erase all the demands I make on myself and watch myself become. I resolve to see what life brings.  And, I resolve to remain as joyful as I can in the face of the changes that life brings. Waking in every moment. One step at a time.

But, one step at a time doesn’t imply looking only at the ground. While it is important to remember where we are, we’ve seen our feet. Life is happening all around us, all the time. I can remember my steps, but then remember to raise my gaze and look at my world. And if that becomes overwhelming or distracting? Then I come back to now. The key to being present is to enter a flow where I’m here, looking around, getting lost, and then coming  back.

Facing life with acceptance and humility, one magical step at a time.

EYES THAT SEE THEMSELVES

Throughout history, meditation adepts, shamans, scientists, philosophers, poets, and artists have pointed to a realm of existence beyond our everyday experience. These realms exist as experiences beyond our norm, so we imbue them with fanciful mystery. Yet it may be that these experiences are very ordinary. Maybe we have glimpses of the truth beyond truth all the time. But maybe we fail to recognize these opening into the profound as we scurry from place to place to place. Our earth evolved uniquely to host conscious life, so it is quite rare and precious.  It is our home and the incubator that gave birth to a consciousness that can glimpse itself and the possibility beyond itself. Perhaps, it is through human eyes that the universe sees itself. Perhaps by seeing ourselves, we can see the universe.

Caged by gravity and necessity, life came to know itself.  If our human mind is an analogue of space, then perhaps the mind itself is vast potential tethered to a limited condition in order to develop an understanding beyond itself.  Unlimited consciousness seems to need limited circumstances to develop awareness. Just as the vastness of possibility became manifest as it was tethered and limited to the confines of our planet, so the vastness of our mind is held in a sense of self. This sense of self is an awareness of being to which we identify.  It is a protective encasement that acts as an incubator for development of our limited consciousness into the wisdom from which it came. But that incubator becomes a cage when we believe this is who we are and all we know. The power of our consciousness becomes locked within itself and can see only projections of itself.  This cage, strengthened by personal and societal beliefs, becomes seemingly solid and permanent. This fabricated self lies in dissonance to the dynamic space around it. We hold to the belief that we are solid and permanent, while everything around us changes. This dissonance creates friction that we feel as suffering. The stronger our cage, the more we are protected from the vicissitude of reality, yet the more isolated we are from the vastness of our potential. And hence, we suffer.

While many spiritual traditions attempt to see beyond the cage, Mahayana Buddhism attempts to understand both the cage and the space beyond. Compassion is a conversation between the absolute and the relative in which we develop our provisional, limited consciousness into a consciousness that knows itself and has the capacity to lead others to that liberation. Glimpsing the matrix that underlies reality can be a profound experience. But we have to develop a skill that allows us to communicate this experience to others. If carefully traveled, this wisdom path offers glimpses of an experience beyond life that offers a sense of compassion, caring and clarity. These glimpses of a larger perspective can offer more clarity to the cage with which we are and ensconced.

So, what is the cage and why would we choose to be here?

The cage is a protective encasement that allows us to grow. It provisionally separates us from everything else, so we naturally develop an identity. This sense of self is a fiction fabricated solely to provide a reference point for our development. But it is not real in that it does not have the solid capacities we attribute to it.  The problem is that we are trapped in this constraint before we have a chance to develop our relative awareness, so we fail to see our connection to all life. We begin to discriminate. And so doing, we separate life experience into for and against, good or bad, right or wrong. The system becomes complicated when our survival instincts become fused to these imaginary designations. And so we fight to protect ourselves from that which we have come to believe is wrong, or against, or evil. And in these dualistic battles, we become so self-centered that we fail to see anything, including ourselves, with much clarity. Trapped within the confines of our cage, the vast potential of mind has only itself to see. Locked in this room of mirrors, we are reduced to iterations of what we have seen before. We weave our cage from the protective patterns of past experience and live a life much smaller than we might.  Taken to its extreme, this cage is an imprisonment. But the light of awareness shines through these walls regardless. We are trained to look away from the light and try and decipher the shadows.  But every time we look up, or each time life interrupts our planning, we create a gap in the wall. Every time we bring our mind back from delusion to the breath, we widen the cracks.

And what of the space beyond the cage?

If we look at the universe for clues to our mind we see that there are so many possibilities. But most of these possibilities are deadly. Most of the space beyond our world is inhospitable to the development of consciousness. So, it is said that life as we know it is exceedingly rare and precious.  And perhaps this is why we cling to it with such tenacity. Yet in that panicked clinging, we lose sight of the larger picture around our cage. We tend to think the cage is all there is. So, it is the path of a wisdom tradition not to reinforce what we believe we are, but to develop toward openness of possibility so we might become. So, we don’t know what is in the space beyond the cage, so it would be wise to develop slowly and carefully. It is said that when we move beyond space, we look back to the cage with understanding and compassion. We are excited for our liberation as we are compassionate toward our imprisonment. The key to this gentle opening of the spirit, is that with each careful incremental step we take, we stop to see the view. And what we see is excitement for our liberation and sadness toward the imprisonment of the world. There is no way to convey our larger perspectives to the world. Our work is to learn to translate our experience in words that can be heard. The key to this translation is remembering how we felt. So, we are not jettisoning into space. We are rising slowly with the understanding that we are not alone, but connected to all.

The development of compassion is essential. That as we develop ourselves to see, we learn to see with eyes of love. Otherwise, what we see is antagonistic. And antagonism or aggression of any sort is a shutting down. Only thru the eyes of love can we see with any clarity. Only with eyes of love can we see truth.

And so, we dedicate our journey to the liberation of all beings. We wish that we and all beings may develop the mind to see beyond itself, so that we have the eyes to see ourselves.

UNCOVERING THE WOUND

A slow uncovering of the wounds that bind us, is an apt description of the path of compassion. Understanding and transforming our pain is a common motivator for the path. Many of us came to the path because we were in pain. There is nothing like a broken heart to introduce us to meditation. But once that heart has mended, or once we get tired of that broken song, what is it that prompts us to continue on the path?

It is said that the path of compassion is a continuous journey that demands cognizance on every step.  If we are interested in developing true compassion then daily maintenance is our commitment. We are constantly learning, uncovering, and transforming our inner lives so that we can be of greater service to our world. And, this is an ongoing process. We may never get “there” – wherever we think “there” is. Doctor King saw the mountain. And in one of his more heartbreaking moments said, I might not make it with you.  The point of his journey was not personal accomplishment, but his great contribution to humankind. He was part of a stream of understanding that flowed from the source of human kindness and when he left, that stream continued.  Many will say that the stream of kindness has been dammed by the sediment of self-interest. But, the path of true compassion endeavors to see the larger picture. There has always been wounds and there has always been kindness. It’s important to see that the pain and suffering in the world is caused by its wounds, not by an inherent evil. The “Lion’s Roar” is the fearless proclamation that all life is workable.

So how can we help anyone, when we ourselves are wounded?  We talk about “opening the heart”.  But what does that mean? Usually, this statement evokes feelings of empathy, communication, and kindness. But doesn’t opening the heart also release the pain that we have been protecting and the suffering we are protecting ourselves against?  When we began the path our wounds were the source of antagonism and aggression. In an attempt to protect ourselves from a future projection of past violence we struck out against actual or imagined danger. However, it may be that these wounds are also the source of empathy, communication, and kindness. The “Lion’s Roar” may be that the wounds we guard in embarrassed secrecy may be our gateway to compassion. When we have worked the path of self-discovery, we get what it is to be human. And because of this, we understand what humans need. Opening the heart is simply relaxing the protective tension with which we gird ourselves. As this cocoon is protecting us from real, imagined or remembered pain, we must respect it. Opening the heart is not about aggression at all.  Opening the heart is acceptance and release.

Coeur is the word in French and Old English for heart. Courage is to have heart. Courage is the bravery to open carefully and slowly with great respect. Our meditation posture is an expression of this bravery. In the Shambhala tradition we call this wariorship. But it is not warriorship based on war. It is not courage based on arrogance. Nor is it a denial of anything at all. It is simple uncovering and acceptance of who we are and the willingness to face that when we are able. And when it all gets too much? We retreat. But, retreat in this case is not defeat. It is a conscious pause to allow creativity and intelligence to enter. With this mindful pause, we can respond to the difficulties of life rather than react to them. In this way the warrior stands tall with the bravery to feel their pain and their joy without believing that pain is a punishment or happiness a reward. The warrior is willing to face life as it happens. This is non-theism. We don’t demonize our suffering nor don’t exalt our joy. There is goodness to everything under the sun. Including that which hides in the shadows. For when we accept our pain, sadness and suffering, we might find an openness for creative expression.

Pema Chodron speaks of suffering as having created a wound in our heart. All of us have those wounds. Pema suggests that we cover the wound to protect it, as we would a physical wound. However, with a physical wound we remove the bandaid for it to heal under the sun. But emotional wounds often remain covered, and so healing is compromised. We become embarrassed of the wounds, somehow believing we are the only ones. Because they don’t heal in the shadows, the wound becomes sensitive to touch. We are constantly bumping into the wound, and flincing through life trying to protect ourselves from the pain. This creates more suffering. Yet, the saddest part of this is how we are denying the very thing that makes us unique. No one notices perfect trees in the forest. We notice the trees that are gnarled and curled from lightning, bent by wind or darkened by fire. These trees have character. And our pain gives us character. Lightning struck trees don’t feel embarrassed about themselves. Nor do three legged dogs. Nor do blues musicians, or poets as they express their pain. Is there a form of life on earth that judges itself as much as humans do? There is a song by The Big Moon that goes “trouble doesn’t last forever. The trouble is that memories do.”

Rather than run from our wounds, we can carefully, slowly, allow them expression. Rather than react with hatred, shame and discouragement, we might allow our suffering to connect us to all who are suffering. This is not easy and it takes daily, manual practice, but acceptance of the wound will give us a presence that cannot be faked. In the Shambhala Tradition we call this Authentic Presence. While everyone has suffered, no one else has our own wounds. They have made us perfectly who we are. Thus our wounds connect us to everyone, but also makes us very specifically ourselves.

But we would do well to encourage our opening slowly with great care. In the AA tradition they say, “may you have a long, slow recovery.”  We are the basis of the path to compassion. May we discover ourselves slowly with great love.

 

Here is an aspiration:

May I never outrun my pain, so that I remain humble.

May I not hide from my fear, so I may remain aware.

May I see what I have suffered as a sign of strength, rather than weakness.

May I stand here in the midst of myself and remain open to all I can.

 

 

_________________

 

todays images are by EMMA RUTH RUNDLE

https://www.emmaruthrundle.com/visual-art

and YUKO TATSUSHIMA

https://images.app.goo.gl/YzGYQJgVBWFrWuaG8

 

please discover more from these brave women

 

THE CRADLE OF LOVING KINDNESS

The Cradle of Loving Kindness

Chogyam Trungpa directed his students to “place the mind of fearfulness in the cradle of loving kindness.” In this way, we are able to acknowledge and hold our fears, rather than be controlled by them. The cradle of loving kindness is the gentle firmness of the body opening to the experience of fear. Rather than constricting our feelings in a body of tension, we are holding our fear with openness.

Loving kindness is also a term used to refer to meditation practices that open the heart. Referred to as “Maitri” in Sanskrit, these practices are a precursor to compassion practices or “Karuna” as they involve acceptance of ourselves and our experience. Maitri is like a smile we use to greet our feelings. Compassion refers to the action of engaging in suffering. Before we can help anyone,  we need to accept ourselves and our own fear.  For this reason Trungpa used to say “smile at fear”. 

Smiling is a more profound application than we would think. If we’re able to smile at the difficulties in life we are accepting them with a positivity and gentleness that allows us access into our feelings. When we gird ourselves in tension, we are trying to push the feelings away. We are creating an antagonistic relationship with a natural and necessary part of human experience. 

Fear is nothing to fear.  It is an alarm system alerting us to possible difficulties. It is our emotional and psychological interpretation of that fear that creates complications. When fear triggers an unsettled feeling in the heart, the mind comes to the rescue.  However, when panicked, the mind will only have recourse to habitual solutions. It will perform old experiments expecting new results. Driven by anxiety, we will reach for that drink, call our ex or hit send before our higher executive functioning has a chance to assess the situation. In this way, in an attempt to relieve our fears, we create difficulties. 

On the other hand, should we STOP and FEEL into our present experience rather than be driven by fear, we can acknowledge and hold it with open arms.  If we cannot heal the trauma that causes us to be fearful, we can heal the suffering we feel. The Buddha told the soldier to remove the arrow before we try and strategize our next move. Deal with the immediate now, with smiling kindness. And then open the body to allow our raw feelings to express themselves. Raw feelings are those before we strategize or analyze them into submission. 

How does my pain feel? This level of investigation does not need words or concepts. When asked how they feel humans will typically screw their eyes up in puzzlement. This is the big brain trying to interpret a very simple thing: feelings are feelings. You feel them rather than think about them. Feelings are in the body. When we tense the body and hide in the brain, we lose contact with a very intimate part of our experience. In a sense, when we are locked in our head, we lose contact with ourselves.

When we lose contact, we can reset and come back.

STOP – just create a gap in the torrent of mental reasoning. 

DROP – bring awareness to the raw experience of the body.

OPEN – release the grip we have on ourselves.

BREATHE – allow the breath to calm the nervous system. Bring yourself back home, back to you.

BE – with your feelings as they are, holding space in your open body. 

Once we’ve reset in this way, we are no longer in the grip of terror. We are feeling our fear and being brave enough to stay with that. Released from its reactive defense, the Heart is free to open and heal the wounds we’ve created. And the Mind, released into a more natural flow, can see clearly, finding new and creative remedies for old fears.  

When we are able to smile at fear, we are placing our mind of fearfulness in the cradle of loving kindness. And when we step beyond that into openness, we are fearless. 

 

Subduing Mara