WELCOMING SPRING – I NEVER PROMISED YOU A ROSE GARDEN
After some nagging resistance, spring has finally come to the Northeastern US. And with that comes a sense of renewal and joy. We feel the freedom of stepping out of our clunky winter garb. We scurry like birds building nests to clean our homes, shop online, fill the fridge with healthy options and renew our gym memberships working toward that illusive beach body. And for moments we are aligned with all that is possible and good.
But, I beg your pardon, but there is also the dread provoked by that change. Along with the roses, there is a little rain sometimes. This post is about stepping back, creating space, and accepting the entirety of our experience. “Good, bad, happy, sad” the poem goes. “all things vanish like the imprint of a bird in the sky.” The very things that excite my brain about spring also terrify me. The flower’s bloom is spectacular when we have the space to notice. Perception is a cosmic blessing in a singular moment. Yet, the flower is the result of the immense struggle as it made its way through the earth. Does the seed dream of the flower to be while it is busy fighting through the darkness? And when it does finally bloom, it opens and connects to the world around it for a brief and glorious moment. And then, before long gone. Yet, in its brief tenure, its beauty is its practical connection to the world. Bees are attracted to the flower, bears, and humans use flowers in their springtime mating rituals. We are part of a connection to life. And we are blessed by the flower in the perfect moment of our noticing. And yet, we go on to immediately worry about the next thing more important than our life, and the flower will remain and eventually wilt and die behind us. What does the flower know of its coming death? The law of Karma is not the cycle of reward and punishment that we imagine. Karma is the dynamic interplay of cause and condition within a vast and interconnected web of reality. While it is impossible to fully grasp its totality, we can nonetheless step back a bit and see things from a wider perspective. The beauty of spring also heralds the coming winter. All of life returns to darkness. Along the way, we have the opportunity to pause and see the world around us, of which, we are only a small part.
A moment of perception is divine. Its a connection to the beauty and the possibility of life. And yet, it passes and leads us back inevitably to the struggling darkness. Maybe we can pick the flowers so the moment will last? Or take pictures? Or post the pictures so everyone will share the moment with us? We can post pictures of ourselves with the flowers to prove something to ourselves and everyone else. Yet, the moment is gone before we snap the camera. All flowers will die alone. And yet, they are not alone in that. There is a saying that we are not unique, therefore we are never alone. The flowers will die and we will too. Like everything else. And this is what connects us to the grander cycle of our planet. This moment of renewal continues whether we are here to see it, sell it or keep it. We can try and document the moment, but picking the flowers only makes them die more quickly. Trungpa Rinpoche used the analogy of a flower in the forest to illustrate mindfulness and awareness as two foundational components of meditation. MIndfulness, he said, was seeing the flower. Awareness was seeing the space around the flower and deciding whether to pick the flower or not. When we recognize the flower, our mind pauses just enough to connect to a world beyond the circular discursive thinking behind which we generally hide. We are making contact. The flower is doing its job. Awareness is the space around the flower that allows us to see its beauty and our relationship to it. When we don’t have space for mindfulness we might trample over the flower in our haste. If we don’t develop awareness in our practice and our life, then we might trample all over our preption by trying to cling to the moment for our own aggrandizement. The flower will die. We will die. And, in both cases, the cycle will continue. So each time we notice the flower, we are glimpsing something larger, if we allow the space to see that.
Each moment of perception can connect us to the larger space. And when we are aware of that moment, we are invited to open to the space of life around us. We grow on our journey, one perception at a time until we turn our mind from clinging toward openness. Our reluctance to just let the flower be, or allow the moment to be, or each other be, or ourselves be, is because the moment will end. Sunlight will devolve into darkness. And we will again dissolve back to the eternal. This is so frightening to us. It’s important that we make something of ourselves. Maybe we can erect statues of ourselves and the flowers we have seen. But ensuing generations may be offended and tear the statues down. Maybe we can make statues out of sand, as the Tibetan monks do with their mandalas. They make these intricate and elaborate works of temporary art that are swept away at the end of the ceremony. In this way, the monks are pointing to something more eternal than ephemeral human statements. But, we are so frightened to let go. This causes great pain as it is not the way of our world. On our planet all things come and all things go. And to stand apart is to create friction with the movement of time and space. And so we suffer. We refuse to let go and we suffer.
Then we see a flower again. And we have an opportunity to be one with the planet. Not something more important and standing alone, but someone less important that is nonetheless part of everything.
In conventional life, we assume we should push harder. And when that doesn’t work, we assign blame, usually to ourselves. I’m lazy. I’m useless. What’s wrong with me? We might take on the role of a frustrated parent yelling outside the door, “GET UP!” or a sports coach urging,. “Get past this and move it, you baby.” But if we actually were a baby, no one would speak to us that way. In fact, we might find it cute when a toddler in their terrible twos holds their breath. And while some foxhole instances require tough love or aggression to provide the motivation we lack in most cases this is an overplayed lazy option. It is not a recommended approach to guiding a child toward self-sufficiency, nor developing a meditation practice that includes our full being. You see, we so-called adults have grown beyond the children we once were, but the children have nonetheless remained. We can take the approach of ignoring our child, as many of our parents did. And as we grew, some of us learned to ignore the pleading of what the Indigo Girls referred to as our “Kid Fears”. Unfortunately, this approach met with enough success that “grin and bear it” became the order of the day and some pushed through until the seed of doubt grew into a boulder we could not lift.
Developing a strong meditation practice is one of the cases for which kindness is an essential method. Some of us learn this in meditation and the approach begins to bleed into other aspects of our life. In my opinion, this is the most important result of a consistent and authentic meditation practice. But, as wonderful as this sounds, some days we just can’t make that long journey from bed to the cushion. Yet, pushing ourselves in the way we do everything else, sets us off on the wrong tact. We are at the mercy of ego or self-will. It is the wrong view, because we are somehow believing there is something we can get from the meditation that requires struggle. The adage “nothing good comes without struggle” is not apt in developing an authentic practice free of aggression. So, when experience resistance to our practice it makes a certain sense. We are deconstructing the fortress of ego. We feel exposed and fearful. Sometimes we may need to halt the process and allow the fear to catch up with us. And kindness and patience are the remedies. When we have the patience to meet resistance with kindness in meditation practice, we have an opportunity to see its effectiveness. As we develop faith in love as a remedy we become kinder and more patient with ourselves. As we become kinder and more patient with ourselves, we naturally become more caring of others.
and is ready to step forward. In this way, we our full mind can develop natural assertion and confidence just like a child learning to walk back to their room. Just like flowers blooming in spring. The seed has no idea of the flower it will become as it is too busy pushing up through the darkness. This is not easy, but the plant does this without struggle. It rises because it is its nature. No one needs to stand above it yelling for it to grow. Along the way, if the ground freezes, the growing stops until the stalk gathers the energy to move again. We can see progress in nature that, while not without challenge, is in synchronicity with nature. The ancient book of wisdom, referred to as the IChing, states that obstacles can be overcome by emulating water. Warrior has the patience to pause until their strength rebuilds and allows them to flow over or around the obstacle. The river never feels insecure or berates itself for this.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.