Author: joseph mauricio
DHYANA PARAMITA
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.
PROGRESS ON THE PATH
The OG yogis, in their old-school yoga days, referred to their path as leading to the perfection of human experience. Okay. But what is meant by perfection? And according to whom and what metric?
A worldly path to perfection is quantifiable in comparison to our world. As vicious as it may be, it is comforting to judge our progress with standard quantifiable metrics. Are we becoming richer, thinner, or more popular? Do our peers turn their heads in admiration, or avert their glances in disdain? Whenever we have the wherewithal to stop and look, are we able to see our world? Or do we only see how far up the ladder we are?
And where the heck does that ladder lead anyway?
Progress on a spiritual path is not perfect at all. It is based on reality. But our mind needs to be trained to see reality. It needs to be disabused of believing in incremental progress toward a perfected state. While a material path may be leading to a defined sum, the spiritual path leads to being here. And here is a very changeable state.
We can become misled if we measure the path by worldly benchmarks. A worldly path leads to material accumulation. Materialism refers to anything we believe is real, that can be quantified, and that we cling to in order to enhance our personal value. However, reading the fine print on this contract, we see that by placing these things above us, material things become our overlords. This is true of money. Is our money working for our life, or are we living for money? This is also true of our beliefs, such as believing in spiritual attainment as though it was a thing that gave our life meaning. Our life gives spirituality its meaning. Which is to say a spiritual path leads to life. From this point of view, progress on the path is seeing where we really are in life. Are we more connected to our life, our family, our own mind? Or are we retreating into the fantasies of an ego state as we try to attain some vague thing that we believe will save us?
Progress on a wisdom path is letting go into what is here. It is living with acceptance that worldly metrics are not reliable and that our value comes from how deeply we understand our own mind and being. Are we clearer now? Are we more aware of our feelings? Are we able to be present in our life? Do we experience joy in life independent of any material cause? Are we able to experience negativity without deflecting the feeling with blame, or deadening it with substances? How much are we able to simply be?
It is said that the journey is the goal or the path is the fruition. Where are we going? Right here. When will we get there? Now. Our goal is the progressive stages to be here. And realization is happening all the time. The idea of perfection is an ego fantasy that keeps us from trying. WE WILL NEVER GET IT RIGHT! Nor will it ever be perfect. The idea of perfection is lazy science. Do we even know what perfect means? Maybe it’s just an excuse to berate ourselves. Or is it an excuse not to even try?
The spiritual path is never straightforward. The development of wisdom in our life simply will not conform to the linear way our egoic mind conceives it. If our view is to develop wisdom, remove the veils of ego deception and be more helpful to our world, and if we are willing to train our minds to get there, then we can see our progress by learning to look with acceptance and love. One of the tools of mind training is to learn to see ourselves. And seeing is an experience. When I am thinking about where I am with judgement, then it is an ego qualification that, by nature, will always lead to dissatisfaction. But when I see myself with loving acceptance I see that I have come a great way. I see how much more caring I am, and how much clearer I am. It is very good to give ourselves a break. We are already wisdom beings.
We are already here. Progress is how much we see.
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.