FINDING TIME FOR KINDNESS AND KINDNESS IN CHAOS
Before he turned his kingdom over to Buddhism, King Ashoka had been a particularly ruthless warlord. There is a story about a monk who walked on to a battlefield during one of King Ashoka’s typically vicious battles. There was an injunction at the time against monks being harmed, even in war. The monk positioned himself so that no one could fight past him without injuring him. And so the battle paused.
And there was silence.
During this moment of peace, the ravages of this horrible battle could be seen in context. These were humans that had torn each other apart. The monk sat in the midst of this smouldering wreckage and, it is said, Ashoka was faced with the brutality of his violence. He also very clearly saw the power of kindness.
Extreme violence had seemed justified because Ashoka believed he was destined to unite the Indian kingdom states. Given the cultural disparity of the people and their long held grievances and bias toward each other, this was a daunting task. Yet being mercenary by nature, Ashoka could not deny the power of nonviolence he had seen before him. In context, he could also no longer ignore the horrid cruelty of war. The monk became an inspiration stronger than the banners and war cries of his clan. Ashoka ushered in Buddhism and its vows of kindness as a unifying force for his people. He became the first Indian king. And India became the first Buddhist nation.
There is another version of the story which deals with “Ashoka’s hell”. Ashoka had built an infamous prison, which was designed to be more punishing and cruel than anyone had ever experienced and it was an apparently effective deterrent. While on the surface, Buddhist principles of nonviolence, kindness and understanding had inspired the populace, Ashoka himself hadn’t converted. It seemed he found no problem utilizing cruelty to secure his ends. Ashoka’s hell had an especially cruel mandate: no one who enters would ever be released. In this telling, the monk nonetheless entered the gates and sat with those afflicted with punishment. As no one could harm a monk, it created a gap in the cruelty. Ashoka himself came to speak with the monk and when he did the monk reminded him of his primary mandate. Ashoka felt stuck. The monk encouraged the enraged king to sit. While resting in meditation, Ashoka woke up and saw the pain around him that he himself had created and was theoretically forced to endure. If he remained in his dungeon his kingdom would likely fall. Ashoka had no recourse but to dismantle his hell.
And as he stepped out from that hell, Ashoka did not drop his laws or remove his armies. That would have been naive and not responsible to his people. What changed was his intention. If he was acting to care and protect his people then he was in the right and the energy of this benevolence would bring success. On the other hand, when he fell into self interest, acting out of blind hatred, his efforts would be destructive. The keys here are intention and clear seeing. The basis for compassion in the Buddhist system is wisdom. Wisdom is knowing without prejudice and is based on clear seeing. We are able to rise above the aggression of ‘this and that’ and see with connection. Perhaps we are not so different from those we wish to destroy.
In our chaotic and dangerous lives it is understandable if we might be seduced into violence and aggression. Yet, if we act out of aggression, we have already lost. For anyone interested in compassion, it is essential that we act from serenity and a basis of peace so that we clearly see our intention. If our intention is to mette out pain and suffering because we feel violated, then we are stuck in a circular dance of destruction. Fighting fire with fire, it is said, burns everything down. Indeed there are some who do that in this world. And there are many more who are unclear what they want, but simply follow along with hatred because it’s the easiest grab. But, if we join this fight out of fear because everyone else is doing it, then we are lashing out blindly. When we do so, we are no longer in control of ourselves or in touch with our mind. Although this may feel momentarily powerful, we are actually in a very defenseless position. When we don’t see, we are offering ourselves up to be victimized.
Awareness is the best defence. And awareness is born of stability of mind. Hence, serenity is what we need to see beyond the darkness of our own defenses. Although our lives are fraught with danger and chaos, we can train ourselves toward effective self-care rather than reflexive self-defence by meditation. Sitting in the quiet center of the turmoil of our life, we can learn that we are not obligated to join the frey. We begin to learn how to boycott reflexive defenses and learn to see clearly and create our intention. Intentional, or mindful action is when we are awake ad incontrol. And if our deepest vow is to protect ourselves and all others, then we can make choices accordingly. We are not obligated to be assholes.
What we do is our choice. It’s always been our choice. Which path leads to benefit and which to destruction? Unfortunately, there are no fixed answers. Each situation requires a specific understanding. And that wisdom can only happen from a stable and quiet mind. I think we can all do this right now, today. We can make a commitment to develop a mind of compassion. The cornerstone is meditation practice. Stability leads to clarity, leads to appropriate intention. Or better said, serenity leads to wisdom, leads to compassionate action.
In order to create the ground for serenity, we can train ourselves away from aggression. Aggression happens when we’ve squeezed ourselves into a corner. A cornered animal is dangerous as it sees no options. The warrior of compassion releases themselves from pressure and allows the space for kindness to be an option. By creating the space for kindness in our lives, we create openness in our hearts. Our world feels better. And as our world begins to feel better, we might begin to see more ways to find the space for more kindness. I don’t know if this will affect the world, but I do know that removing myself from hell, I am able to see that my path to kindness is key to peace in my life.
I don’t know if there will ever be kindness on earth. I do know there can be kindness in my heart. And that kindness is something I can share with everyone.
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.
I sadly never got out of my head long enough to let my heart into the equation but maybe it happened at some point. It wasn’t until years later when meditation gave me the courage to allow vulnerability. But, whether it was groping on a high school dance floor, fumbling in the back seat, or sitting on the meditation cushion, the moment of frailty when we “fall” is an important step in our spiritual journey.
What if instead of paying endless lip service to love, we just deeply kiss the world? What if our politics and our nations were organized around faith in the power of love? I guess the process is to conceive it and then believe it and then let that go and simply be it. Thich Nhat Hanh said, “BE love.” Believe it and be it.
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.
Contacting love in our life is possible if we are free of the turmoil that often occupies our mind. Sometimes this happens accidentally, as when something startles us and stops our mind. Sometimes it happens when our mind naturally notices a flower or bird that opens our mind. 
Compassion is natural to all life. But so is danger. Much of life does what it can to sustain itself and focuses its cellular attention on living, growing and providing, serene in its unknowing. Most life is a natural and necessary part of the dance of the planet. But, the greatest danger to the balance of life comes from the only part of the planet that sees itself. The one who’s acidic stomach is gurgling as it watches the rabbit hop merrily into the wooded shadows. The greatest danger lies within. This is as true of ourselves and our societies. This is the greatest danger because it is the one unseen. We are so attuned to the danger around us, we lie in vulnerable ignorance of the aggression we cause ourselves and others. It is the work of compassion practice to help us reprogram the mind to balance the openness of loving moments with the truth of the dangers in life. We do this by de-emphasizing the importance of ourselves to ourselves that is clouding the picture. THis is not to say that we are not important. We are just not as important enough to suck the air out of life. Humans are a little like drunken blowhards going on about their workout routine at a party. SIr Harold Pinter wrote a play called “The Party” in which a group of haute society people revelled in their intrigues and drama while occasionally, we have seemingly inconsequential references to turmoil in the streets. By play’s end it is clear the turmoil is a violent revolution that will end everything they know.
Over 
direction is too loose. Sometimes we rail against the authority of form, and this stops the flow, but it may be necessary to reboot the process or add freshness to a routine. But once we reboot, finding the groove and waking up in the rhythm of life. Navigating between the extremes of too tight and too loose we find the balance point for optimal creativity in life. A dancer needs discipline, but the point of the discipline is to let go into the piece. No one wants to see anyone work. We want to see them dance. We want the fruit of their labor. So, form need never be seen. The hand of the director should never be seen. The dance should feel as natural as the river.
This post will introduce the idea of slowing down in order to establish or reestablish a flow that allows us to move more efficiently. Here we will use the analogy of the cat, relaxing in repose, so that it has the energy and calm to spring into action. We are talking about how to maintain synchronicity so that our flow is strong and even. This requires an aware meditation of our energy. If we move too quickly for our present circumstances, we lose connection to synchronicity. Such as when we’re moving so quickly, we fail to see where we are going. In the Tibetan Buddhist tradition it is said that speeding through life is an essential disregard for our humanity. Our personal dignity becomes subsumed by anxiety as we scurry like a hamster. The goal becomes more important than the journey. But, it is said, the journey is the goal. How we approach life is as important as anything else in life. Meditating our speed allows us to move with grace and dignity. It also allows us to move more efficiently. Sometimes we need to slow down in order to get things done. On the other hand, sometimes we need to encourage ourselves to move more quickly in order to maintain our energy. Sometimes we need encouragement to move at all.
the “Samatha” level of our meditation training. Samatha means peace, or cultivating peace in its active rendering. In Tibetan Buddism it is taught as a 9 stage process of progressive settling. These Tantric systems of Indian and Tibetan Buddhism endeavor to connect mind and body. Progressive settling in to the present is not just “being in the now” in a conceptal sense. But settling into ourselves as the working basis of our path toward full awakening. Yet “path” implies movement. All things, even when apparently still, are in motion. All things are in dynamic interaction with all else. Settling into that movement with unhurried elegance is “entering the stream”.
Awareness of our breathing is the perfect tool for maintaining the meditative flow state. Breathing is the intimate rhythm of our life. It describes a through line of our life from moments after birth to our last moments. Returning to the breath is a way of maintaining our meditative awareness on the cushion, but this process can be effectively carried over into our daily life. We can use awareness of our breathing to relax the nervous system and allow the mind to let go back into a natural flow. Breathing can guide us through turbulent waters. When in doubt, breathe your way through. Allow yourself to settle and then let go. Letting go INTO the flow is not running away from anything. It’s allowing yourself to move past it with minimal engagement. How many issues in life simply do not need the attention we give them. I worked with a shaman who told me my work was not to be anything or to accumulate things, but to learn from everything. Appreciation means not grabbing, but seeing clearly the value of something. We lose perspective when we grab things. We objectify them and interrupt the flow. When we appreciate someone, we have the distance to see them as they are. And if our desire or anger or need causes us to get stuck we have the tools of recognition and return. We see that we are stuck. We feel our stomach tightening, our mind scripting imaginary narratives, our heart aching for something that isn’t here. Then we know we are stuck in the past or the future. The present is a flow state. So when we are stuck, we recognize that and return to the flow of our breath. The breath will guide us back to the flow of now.
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.