From Imprisonment to Possibility
There is an old Zen saying: “Disappointment is the chariot of liberation.” But what does that mean? Is it simply wishful thinking when things go wrong? Not quite. It points to a fundamental aspect of the path toward liberation. What are we liberating ourselves from?
While we often blame external persons or circumstances for our struggles, the Buddhist tradition is an experiential one—concerned with what is happening here and now. And the common denominator in all of our struggles is ourselves. So, it has been said, we are the working basis of our path to liberation. Everything we need is already here. If we set aside blame and easy answers when things don’t go our way, we have an opportunity to learn something valuable about ourselves. And working with ourselves is key to freeing ourselves from the imprisonment of the relentless patterning that keeps us stuck. What liberates us is developing wisdom; what holds us back is believing in ignorance. Ignorance is not stupidity, nor is it a personal failure—it simply means we have yet to see something clearly. The problems come as we assign meaning to things we don’t understand. Then we are developing frames of belief based on speculation and limited experience. Frames that we become imprisoned by.
Sometimes, what we are ignorant of is right in front of us, waiting to be recognized. Sometimes what blocks our view is believing in what is not there. A curious aspect of 
human behavior is that we will do the extra work of fabricating a fiction, rather than simply relax with what is. This is where mindfulness comes in: the ability to slow down, synchronize with the moment and rest our attention with what is happening. This allows the space for us to see a perspective grander than one constrained by habittual reaction. With mindfulness we are able to see if the next action is leading to freedom or reinforcing habitual patterns that limit us. And we can take the next step. If we are brave enough, we might step through the veil. When we are controlled by fear, we might cycle back to habit.
Many of us feel constrained by our lives, sensing we haven’t achieved all we’ve hoped for. But what if our possibility is greater than these speculative hopes? We are not limited in the present moment as the present is a gateway to vast potential. We are limited by the beliefs we create to limit us. Although we must work with what is revealed in the moment, where that leads is an open book. We might believe the remedy to our discontent is to accept what we have. And acceptance is a requisite step for any change. Often, people struggle because their aspirations and reality don’t align. As the saying goes, “An idea without a plan is a hallucination.” So, we need to join the vast potential of our potential, with what is possible in the moment. Our potential is not limited by the struggles of daily life, and daily life is not preempted by aspiration. In a mindful universe, they work in tandem. Wisdom illuminates the way, as Compassion patiently takes the next right step. In the Shambhala teachings we call this “joining heaven and earth.”
This principle very much applies to our spiritual journey. Buddhism directs us toward awakening our Buddha Nature. Buddha Nature is the essential part of us that is not trapped in habitual patterns. Hence, realizing our Buddha mind is liberation from the constraints we place upon ourselves. Buddha nature embodies wisdom and compassion: wisdom as the clear perception of reality, and compassion as the means to best actualize movement within that reality. If we have wisdom but lack the ability to apply it, we may remain disconnected from the world. If we focus solely on practical concerns—getting groceries, paying bills—without wisdom, we may feel unfulfilled, sensing that life is meant for something greater. And, of course, we would be correct. Only rather than “greater” we might say, more truthful. I make this distinction because truth is usually less complex than fabrication. It takes a lot of energy to prop up the frames of limited beliefs. If we are willing to try, it may be easier to believe in ourselves and our limitless potential and simply take the next right step.
Although we have the wisdom to see beyond the limits of our conceptual frame, those limits are nonetheless deeply ingrained. “Sure, I could seek enlightenment, but I have to go to work today as I do each morning.” Can we not do both? Can we administer our daily lives while still moving toward liberation? True freedom is not about escaping responsibilities—it’s about liberating ourselves from ignorance and the protective structures we build around it. Ironically, the more we reinforce these structures, the more we blind ourselves to the truth. When we become trapped in habitual thinking, we sleepwalk through life, led by circumstances rather than agency.
Liberation means stepping beyond these frames, engaging with life in a more spontaneous and creative way. The protective structures we build are not evil; they once served a purpose. But as we grow, they often become outdated. The path of liberation involves shedding these layers—loosening the protective skins we’ve wrapped around ourselves and moving toward authentic, natural expression.
Buddha nature is ever-changing, like light reflecting through a crystal, shifting with time. Transitioning from a materialistic mindset to a spiritual one does not guarantee freedom—it is merely a shift from one frame to another. Many spiritual seekers fall into the trap of creating comfortable alcoves where they can hide from themselves. But the true path requires continual movement—questioning, exploring, and being willing to step beyond each frame we construct.
Even when we believe we are succeeding within a particular frame, we may only be reinforcing the walls that separate us from deeper understanding. Every mistake, problem, or disappointment is an opportunity—not for blame, but for insight. What we call “failure” often arises from the expectations of the frame we are living within. We didn’t get the job, the person didn’t call back, we failed to reach our goal weight—these disappointments expose the treadmill of habitual thinking that keeps us confined. But when these expectations are disrupted, we have a chance to reset, to step beyond the frame and see our lives with fresh eyes.
It is not necessary to reach the breaking point before we recognize these patterns. Constant upheaval is not the goal. Instead, we cultivate maitri—loving-kindness, patience, and respect for ourselves—encouraging ourselves gently along the path. When things fall apart, we can see it as an opportunity to reconnect with what is real. Each time this happens it signifies that the frame we relied upon has reached its limit.
Disappointment, then, is not just the chariot of liberation—it is cause for celebration. Chögyam Trungpa Rinpoche famously said, “Chaos should be considered extremely good news.” Chaos, uncertainty, and not knowing can feel dangerous when we cling to familiar structures. But ignorance itself can be the basis for deeper wisdom. When we admit, “I don’t know,” we open ourselves completely—and in that openness, we step toward true liberation.
In Buddhist teaching, Patience is taught as one of the six paramitas. The Paramitas Generosity, Patience, Discipline, Exertion, Meditation and Wisdom are activities that transcend our conventional frame into a more expansive or “transcendent” expression of experience. This transcendence is sometimes referred to as “the other shore,” as we move from a self-centered, habitual interpretation to one imbued with greater depth and perspective. From this larger perspective, patience can be viewed as a positive application for the development of wisdom. We are not clamping down or tightening up; rather, we are allowing space between an impulse and our action. This space provides the opportunity for us to become cognizant, intentional, and mindful. Transcendent Patience is a momentary pause for us to find the most appropriate response to whatever situation confronts us. More importantly, that space allows us to connect with our natural serenity and peacefulness of mind. Through consistent, dedicated meditation practice, we can develop the ability to recognize these moments of pause—often just before we bite down or cling to our next reaction.
Patience, in its transcendent form, is not merely about waiting for external circumstances to shift. It is about cultivating space within the mind to introduce awareness into our processing. Patience allows us to see our thoughts as they form, granting us the opportunity to respond thoughtfully rather than react impulsively. In Tibetan, this reactive “hook” is referred to as shenpa; Pema Chödrön describes it as the feeling of being hijacked by familiar patterns of reactivity.
Patience also applies on a behavioral level, especially when we are cultivating something new—a relationship, a creative project, or a business. In some spiritual traditions, practitioners “turn it over to God.” In Buddhism, we turn it over to space itself, trusting that space is imbued with the same intelligence and compassion others may attribute to a deity. Rushing a project or relationship may bring temporary gratification but rarely yields sustainable growth. Patience allows the natural rhythms of the process to unfold, supporting more authentic and enduring outcomes.
importance of creating safety for not only himself but also the Dharma and for his students. The need for protection grew alongside his rapidly expanding community. In Tibet, monasteries were safeguarded by monks trained in awareness and nonviolent crowd control. Trungpa’s close attendant, John Perks, a British armed forces veteran, played a pivotal role in this initiative. Perks, who passed away on January 31st, was an outrageous and endlessly creative figure whose book The Mahasiddha and His Idiot Servant captures the spirit of the time.
These principles trace back to the 9th century when the Indian Mahasiddha Padmasambhava introduced Buddhism to Tibet at the invitation of King Trisong Detsen. Padmasambhava encountered numerous obstacles, as Tibet’s rich mystical traditions were diverse and often aggressive. While some practices were positive, others were rooted in fear and superstition. The Tibetan king sought to unify his people through a central spiritual framework, seeing Buddhism’s ideals of nonviolence and compassion as tools for governance. Inspired by India’s spiritual renaissance, Padmasambhava aimed to refine Tibet’s spiritual landscape.
The ideal meditative state—clarity and acceptance—rests on the openness and settledness of the body, heart, and mind. However, life rarely offers us perfect conditions. For me, morning practice often begins with a scattered or resistant mind. The first step, then, is acceptance—meeting the mind as it is and not as I wish it to be.
Once again, meditation isn’t about fixing; it’s about seeing. The mind of meditation arises in awareness like a point in space. And as the space of awareness is relieved of the pressure to fix itself or chose a side, it remains loving and supportive. It is a state of grace. By stepping into the grace of awareness, we don’t need to force change—we simply allow what we notice to be with us, remembering none of it is as real, solid or urgent as our fear suggests. Trungpa Rinpoche famously wrote, “good, bad, happy, sad – all thoughts vanish like an imprint of a bird in the sky.” Once we release ourselves from the grip of control, we see everything as ephemeral, diaphanous and in dynamic transition. Sakyong Mipham calls this the displaysive activity of mind. All of our worries are the mind revealing itself. Many of our worries are kid fears. And like kids, they need to be loved and accepted, but not always believed.
Ego which can be seen as the very limited defensive nature of the mind, serves to reduce our world to a controllable space. Its logical extension is the propagation of surety, dogma and doctrine. The opposite of ignorance(ma-Rigpa) is knowing (Rigpa), and therefore, egoless being is sees and knows what is happening. And it always has. This is Buddha Nature – our natural state. Because it is accepting reality as it is, it is not at war. Thus, Buddha Nature is said to be indestructible. It has never changed. It is the life of the universe and the very life around us. And though our lives will pass into other configurations, our essential nature is said to be part of all of nature. Ego clings to temporal things in order for us to believe that temporary things give us solace and sustenance. We can squint our eyes and believe what we are happy but, inside us, we know that happiness is immaterial. Material things are “like a banquet before the executioner leads us to our death.” Revenge, retribution, and displays of grandiosity masquerading as leadership are fleeting and meaningless. They are basically good, because they are there. But they are expressions of ego and ultimately fleeting.
Physical pain awakens us to the possibility of danger or a need to heal. While few of us like pain, it serves a vital function. Some p
There is nothing wrong with fantasies until they take the place of actual engagement in life. Fantasies allow us to journey into edgy realms with no real investment. By imagining pleasures of the flesh, we have no actual skin in the game. (Yes, bad pun intended.) We can live out fantasies at will in apparent safety. However, as they serve an important creative function, it may be that fantasizing only supports the solitude that allows wounds to fester. Sometimes we analogously recreate the actual wounding we are otherwise unable to look at directly. People may act out abuse sexually by entering a “play space” that is an active dissociation of their primary personality. The “play-space” is a safe space people can act out being unsafe. And whether this is working through their deep wounds or reinforcing them is unclear.
The present moment rests between the past and the future. Specifically, how we could protect ourselves from this situation or how we can enact laws to protect our community in the future. Or, going deeply into the causes and conditions of what happened to us might lie in the past. Either of these examples might be helpful, but they are more the province of therapy. Meditation looks at what is happening now. That is what we mean by the light. Many of us were wounded so deeply in the past that there is little possibility of contacting the source of that suffering. But we can feel their effect right now if we remain conscious. And as we become more and more conscious of that which lies within us, we become more and more whole.
adjacent worries, recrimination and judgment. For instance, there is drilling happening not far from my apartment. It’s annoying and incessant. I’m here having to work on a post about creating peace with this going on in the background. It becomes especially painful when the background becomes the foreground, as is happening now as I’m referring to it. However in the course of writing, I’ll refocus on my work and forget the noise. This cessation of suffering comes and goes and yet the drilling is continuing unabated. Sometimes I’m aware and sometimes not. Each time I’m aware of the drill I forget all about the periods of relative peace. It seems this drilling has been going on my entire life and will continue forever. I cannot help but take this personally.
to create a gap between input and impulse, which serves as a mote or buffer of aware space. Whether we are triggered by someone else, or drilling outside the window, all instigating impulses happen in our mind. When the mind builds it cocoon it compounds itself into a hall of mirrors. Turning the attention from this brain constipation toward the aerobic movement of breathing interrupts the process and allows the claustrophobia to abate. When we turn our attention from the overwhelmed brain to the body breathing, we go return to something grounding. And while simple awareness of the breath may seem inadequate to address how impacted we feel, it actually creates a gap that allows the mind more clarity to see clearly.