Compassion For an Annoying World
In the play, “Huis Clos” or “No Exit” French philosopher Jean Paul Sartre introduced three characters that represented a kind of social three-body problem that uncovered the basic instability of human interaction. The nature of this dynamic encouraged the edges of each personna to trigger the others. That dynamic continued in vicious rounds ultimately leading Sartre to famously conclude “hell is other people.”
I once wrote an unlove song that went “people suck, and you’re one of them.” Yet life with the irritations of other humans may be worthwhile simply because we have no choice. It is an existential situation that we can either choose to see or turn away from. Sartre’s play was an existential glimpse of a human condition that left us with no alternative, hence the idea of hell. The Buddhists say the cycle of suffering, referred to as l samsara, is endless. And, yet the Buddha predicted that suffering can nonetheless cease if we understand its cause. Our experience of that endless sea of suffering is enacted by the clinging attachment to the straws of life we feel will save us from drowning. Instead of flowing though life with an open sense of discovery, we grasp to the things we love and struggle to get away from things we hate. And in the turbulence of yes and no, wanting and not wanting, we become blind to the rest of our life.
The Buddha’s remedy for this struggling blindness is to train the mind to settle in the present so that it may develop an objective awareness. Awareness of the things we cling to, awareness of the things that trigger us and eventually awareness of all that we’ve missed due to these obsessions. This is not easy. The deeper we see, the more we feel. And feelings …. well … can suck. In this regard, it is said that irritation is the vanguard of awareness. And as the old song (almost) said, “waking up is hard to do”. Just like the groggy eye-rubbing crankiness many of us experience in the morning, becoming aware of our world can be an uncomfortable and unsettling experience. And yet, should we bring awareness into the hell of our world, we might see that hell itself is a construct. And any construct is a thing, and all things are temporary.
So, why do we suffer? We become comfortable with the familiar. Seeing what we see, knowing what we know, doing what we do supports our sense of security. As we are social creatures, we search out our clan and dance with the partners we enjoy. However, we can unknowingly become attached to what we know, and experience antipathy toward that de don’t. We assume our point of view is self-existing and inviolable. Humans nestle into comfort without looking into that or beyond themselves. Chogyam Trungpa likened this process to creating a cocoon. Cocoon, in this case, is a womb of repetitive patterns, societal norms and bounded thinking in which we find protection but entirely take for granted. We separate ourselves from the dangers of disparity by surrounding ourselves with the familiar. Each of us has our specific style of protective cocoon that makes us feel safe. Ironically, those who flaunt danger sometimes find solace in the familiarity of repetition of their unsafe behavior. A daredevil approach feels brave, but once we’ve learned how to navigate the danger, it becomes a pattern.
We use repetitive patterns as a self protective strategy, even when they are not serving us. But even when they have served us, cocoons by nature are temporary staging areas. Should we fail to move on, at some point, we are not growing. Even if our cocoon is academic study and research, are we able to see beyond our mode? The late Physicist Richard Feynman noted that his colleagues were learning “more and more about less and less.” Many of us are proficient in the things we know, but don’t recognize, or value what we don’t know. The spiritual problem here is that we are limited by that which we don’t see. It’s like the mass of “black” matter in the universe. There is a preponderance of mass in the universe that we can measure, but cannot see. Some scientists rather describe this as unseen or unknown matter, indicating there is something there we are yet to understand.
The brain is happiest and therefore most efficient when it is leaning new things. So, developing awareness in our lives is developing our minds. Developing our mind enables us to develop greater awareness. While being nurtured in the safety of our comfortable environment is essential for our physical health and survival, seeing beyond our comfort points is essential for our mental and spiritual health. Spiritual growth = spiritual health. The more we see, the more we understand. This is developing awareness and is likened to “waking up.” And as we said, waking up is not always pleasant. And so there is a tentative balance between safety and growth. It would be impractical to throw off all caution and engage the world without discernment, but when discernment turns to judgement, we are limiting ourselves. The struggle between stepping out and back to the cocoon is a necessary dynamic for growth.
It is essential for the butterfly to struggle through its cocoon in order to develop the strength to fly. Likewise, it is essential for those on a wisdom journey, to work with the discomfort of waking up. The Tibetans refer to “lakthong” or clear seeing. Lakthong is seeing beyond our reference points and likened to “waking up. When faced with the discomfort of seeing more clearly, a common tactic is to find fault and assign blame. We can deflect the pain of our burgeoning awareness onto a projection of another object. However, this freezes us in place. Once we pinpoint a problem, then it becomes a scapegoat. We are no longer looking, because we are seeing what we believe. Smart people are very susceptible to irritation and blame. People of high intellect can often become impatient with those moving on slower cycles. It’s natural to value our world from the vantage of our own values. Sometimes this conflates into a rigid false binary. Some people are good and some are evil. Assigning a value of evil may be more about pushing away something you find uncomfortable than an absolute value scale.
Those of us too sophisticated to believe in evil, might instead just find other people annoying, irritating or unworthy. And, in truth, some people put up a good case for that. Nonetheless, the more clearly we see and the more we step from our parochial perch, the less protected we are from irritation. It is said that “meditation is not a vacation from irritation.” And in truth, just because people are irritating to me doesn’t mean they aren’t valued by those their own clan. If they exist in the world, then waking up to the world would indicate connecting to some are unavoidable.
So, how to work with this?
- Knowing that there is no right or wrong to the situation. There are points of view that, in fairness, are susceptible to change.
- That said, acceptance of our feelings as valid is important step in waking up. However, understanding that our feelings are subjective are very important. Feelings don’t make us right. They are part of the landscape.
- Being willing to set aside judgement and investigate means everything. Why does it irritate me? What does it mean to me? Did my caregivers do this? This means not making global assignments or judgements. Just being humble enough to ask why am I uncomfortable.
- Having the confidence to NOT TAKE IT PERSONALLY. I am not obligated to feel a certain way about anyone else’s behavior. Non-co-dependence or interdependence means that we are willing to stand on our own without feeling swayed for or against. When I am triggered by someone, they are MY triggers! My mind is all I can effectively change. No one is keeping me from doing that.
My friend Sarah suggested that we could have disintegration rays like in Tim Burton’s movie “Mars Attacks”. She feels they would be compassionate by painlessly eliminating asshooles for our life. Hahaha. Although admittedly a provisional view of compassion, the idea that we could painlessly cut the attachment we have to feeling judgement or obligation to the assholes we endure is appealing. As Christ said, “you will always have the assholes with you.” He went on to say “you will not always have me.” I think it is not up to us to find goodness in our own hearts and endeavor to see others through that.
All of us have wisdom and all of us have neurosis. It is up to us as to which lens we use to see our world.

At this writing we are heading toward a pivotal, some say existential, national election. The two primary presidential candidates have come under fire. One fending attacks against their age and mental acuity. The other, quite literally, in a narrowly missed assassination attempt. Both of these situations have caused us to stop and reconsider solid paradigmatic points of view.
Binaries are fictions we create to better understand chaos. There is a good, and there is a bad. We have right and we have wrong. We feel comfort in fending off chaos with these solid beliefs. All of us have something we feel is real. But clinging to those beliefs create suffering as readily as clinging to material things or other people. This is called materialism of view. We believe our ideas are real. Well, good luck with that. I’ve actually come to see that binaries are by their nature never real. They are crude designations, the first step in the mental triage in trying to address the unsettling unknowing of chaos. The remedy? Hahaha. Relax. We are struggling through a natural process of rebirth. There is no reason to struggle. Our disquiet is urging us to discomfort. Our discomfort tells the part of ourselves charged with being in control that we are under siege. And so we prove our mettle by digging in. We turn false binaries in rhetoric and rhetoric into violence. At this point, the chaos in our mind becomes chaos in our life.

As this brain grew, it gained the processing ability to go beyond the defensive reaction of its dark beginnings and, learning to see a bigger picture, strategize its way past danger and toward sustenance. This remarkable ascension is still happening and that’s a wonderful thing. Yet, that growth happened so quickly, our minds are developing new skills while our brain is still holding to old processes. This creates a dissonance between a view of what may be possible and what we fear could happen.
So, how can we make this large picture practical for us? We can begin by loooking at ourselves, as we are. How can compassion make my life a better place? What can I do today to make my life easier and more productive so that I may better serve? This is not selfish, it’s practical. However, trying to make my life better than someone else’s, or a better place for only me and mine, is selfish because it’s narrow minded and myopic. Compassion is developing the tools to care for ourselves so that we can care for other beings. But, we are one of those beings. In fact, until we learn to effectively care for ourselves we will be unable to care for others.
Yet, if we accept that we are a work-in-progress then we can learn to gain confidence in ourselves. Self-aggrandizement, like the arrogance it engenders, covers leads to a lack of belief in ourselves. We know inside that we are not the ideal, and so believe we are less than the ideal. But that truth is if we can accept ourselves and vow to discover what we become, we are committing to a path of supporting ourselves. As we develop self-awareness, we naturally gain regard for ourselves. And though this regard for ourselves we begin to see others more clearly. Freed of the veils of defensive self interest we begin to see that we are not as estranged from our world as we had imagined.
With meditation practice we are training to notice subtler and more ordinary moments that stop the mind. And perhaps more importantly, we learn to accept these authentic moments, as they are, without commentary for longer periods of time. This serves to infiltrate the wall of separation that we fabricate to keep ourselves isolated from life. You might say, we are turning the lights on to our life. If our mind is supple enough, we can see all life as alive and interactive. In time, we see ourselves as a part of everything rather than struggling to overcome anything. In popular culture, this is known as being one with everything. In Meditation traditions this is known as non-dual experience. Nondual experiences are instances of clear perception when we are directly connected to the moment as opposed to dualistic experiences when we are separated out and looking in.
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.

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.