Or, How We Choose to Avoid The Point
If the purpose of a spiritual practice is to develop awareness and the ability to be mindful of the details in our lives, then it is crucial for us to acknowledge that we are training ourselves. Training ourselves in what regard? Training ourselves from the conditioned tendencies that promote addictive behaviors, neurotic patterns, Judgement and blame – all of which set the ground for unhappiness.
Disclaimer: Meditation practice will not eliminate unhappiness. However, it can help us develop the mindful awareness to turn unhappiness into learning. This requires us to be willing release our objectification of the other and to take the opportunity to look at what we’re feeling. When we are triggered by something disagreeable, disconcerting, or discouraging, meditation helps train ourselves to uncouple the usual co-dependent reaction and look inward to see our part in the process, and how we actually feel. This doesn’t mean further victimization or self blame. It means looking at what we can learn about ourselves. We are the only ones we can change. It’s a fool’s game to believe we can change others to secure our own happiness. Other people are notoriously resistant to change, and relying on them for our happiness sets us up for further disappointment. And this disappointment fuels the blame game.
The blame game is a codependent cycle of suffering that happens when we fixate on another to the detriment of our own self-awareness. If we want to grow in our spiritual practice, developing the honesty to see how we create suffering for ourselves is integral. Regardless of what someone may have done to provoke our unhappiness, we can only look within to see our part. Were we expecting to much? Were we wrong about this person’s intentions? Were we duped by our own greed or neediness? These are things we would do well to understand about ourselves, because they are vulnerabilities that leave us susceptible to further suffering. If we hope to create lasting change in ourselves, blaming others, even when it seems justified, blocks self-examination. Frankly, it’s an easy out when we latch onto blame. We avoid seeing ourselves and miss the opportunity to learn from the situation.
Honesty is admitting to ourselves that we don’t know other people’s intentions. And even if we could, what other people think about us is none of our business. That includes what we assume they think when they act in certain ways. This mental convolution too much work and is the opposite of clarity and mindful thinking. We’re lost in a hall of mirrors, trying to find what’s real, and in our frustration, we fixate on something we can be angry about or hurt over. Often, our unhappiness is rooted in various internal circumstances that are only referred to by the object of our blame.
Blame is a cop-out. It keeps us stuck on an imaginary surface while discomfort brews underneath. Rather than looking inward and learning to navigate our feelings, we focus all our anger outward. The more uncomfortable we feel inside, the more we cling to blame. Rather than looking inward at our own actions, by blaming others we make ourselves the victim and become the center of everything. When we feel badly, it often becomes all about us although we’re not seeing ourselves at all. We can either look inward with honesty and work to deconstruct our suffering, or we can lock onto the other and, so doing, inflame our suffering into an ego state. In any case, the suffering is our own. We can choose to work with it, or be worked over by it.
Blame is not honest. We either misrepresent our internal feelings or distort the truth of a situation. Therefore blame is a common tool used by demagogues and despots throughout history as they assign blame to a set of the populace or an opposing political party, in order to amass power. Blame creates an adversarial stance towards circumstances, that disallows communication and distorts reality. The blame game, so hurtful in personal interaction, becomes horrific on the global scale. We’ve seen this throughout history and we can see this happening now. But, rather than blame those who blame, a better approach is to look inside. How am I contributing to this? What can I do to help? How can I build the inner strength and balance to never be swayed or manipulated?
Mindfulness Awareness practice helps strengthen our inner core. This helps us to deal with life’s challenges by recognizing the blame game and looking into ourselves for clarity and strength. Then our interface with life becomes honest and positive. No one makes us suffer except ourselves. The remedy is to return to our center. Drop the story, pull back from the attack, feel inward, and explore beneath the surface. Shifting focus from others to ourselves opens vast possibilities for self-discovery. The truth is pain exists and is no one’s fault. When we boycott blame and judgement, and look into painful circumstances, we see they are an opportunity to take responsibility for our feelings and begin to grow.
Rather than checking out in blame, what if we simply checked in to see what we need?
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.
In a world filled with endless information and impulses, the idea of simplifying life to a single breath may seem overly reductive, especially in contrast to the overwhelming chaos of our triggered states. And while chaos is part of life these days, perhaps there is a way to navigate this chaos. Instead of trying to control the flood of thoughts and data, we can shift our focus from the mind into action. And we can take that action one step at a time. The question becomes: What is the next right step?
While it is important to be in the moment, each moment is leading to the next. To make this next authentic action practical, it helps to determine where we are going. If we have a commitment to work for the benefit of all beings then it becomes clear. By “all,” beings we are including ourselves. Helping others at the cost of our own wellness is not truly helpful. So, what is the next step that leads toward helpful engagement with our world? Once we know this, the next step we take is a natural action. By natural we mean not rooted in confusion or external expectation, but what needs to be done for the benefit of everyone, including ourselves. Taking that step will clarify the next step and in so doing reveal the journey ahead. We move toward helpfulness and harmony, and away from reactive patterns that keep us entangled in life’s struggles.
False binaries dominate our consciousness, good versus evil, left versus right, wonderful versus horrible. We live squeezed between these exaggerations. The Buddha taught that the truth lies not in extremes but in the “middle way.” This teaching urges us to be present in our lives and act rightly in the moment. Similarly, the 12-step traditions speak of “doing the next right thing.” According to the Buddha, the next right step depends on the specific circumstances of the moment. Instead of fabricating extremes, the middle way turns our attention to what’s really happening.
suffered, and even lost their lives so that the rest of us may live relatively free and open lives. Veterans include not only those who served in the military, but also the families of those who died in service. However, there are many who have sacrificed for the cause of freedom and liberation within our own shores. The first black children integrated into schools, the first students who spoke out against an unjust Vietnam War, and those who currently challenge human participation in climate change, racial violence and societal hatred. With great respect for those who have served our military, I also want to recognize all who have suffered and been wounded in life, yet continue to face the world with courage.
I started my journey with meditation when I was most confused about how to move forward. Each step forward seemed to be met with a step back—sometimes a frozen moment, sometimes a lashing out, sometimes a dive into extreme tequila to numb the pain of indecision. These may sound like champagne problems—or in my case, a tequila-and-cocaine problem—but it still kept me from fully participating in life. I was always healing, always beginning again, but the object of healing was undefined, so this process only supporting my impairment. It wasn’t until I began looking at the things that were blocking me that I could begin to heal.
Facing the possibility of change with an open heart, a strong back and a clear mind is nonviolent warriorship which is the seat of the bodhisattva. Connecting to our inner life force, we find a strength that can lead us forward. Sit down, rise up and meet the change. There is great strength in this. Finding false strength in what everybody else is doing or in reacting to what everyone else is doing, which is the same, are just expressions of being controlled by fear. On the other hand, bravery is sitting in the maelstrom, open and aware, feeling our fear and remaining open and clear. Doing this as a training practice every morning is how we remain spiritually fit and connected to our life.
Peace is natural to the mind. As a natural state, the cessation of suffering is readily accessible. However, peace is not a fixed state. There is always suffering in our lives, and accepting our suffering is key to finding the peace that is already present. You might say peace is both intermittent and permanent. It is always there, but sometimes it becomes obscured by the tightness and difficulty that suffering induces.
Finally, the cessation of suffering is both the fruition of the path and a foundational state necessary for any creative endeavor. It is also an ongoing possibility. If we cling to the idea of cessation, we miss the point, turning something intermittent into something perceived as solid—another source of suffering. The possibility of peace is here now, even as we lose it by thinking about it. Peace is a felt sense. It is connecting to a part of our being that has always been there, and according to Buddhist thought, that peace is not diminished or changed by suffering.
Although masculine and feminine are inseparable, we can separate them to examine the distinct qualities each energy entails. The Tao Te Ching posits that the receptive complements and completes the creative. By considering this provisional binary, we can recognize that each of us has both assertive and receptive qualities. As we become more aware of these energies, we can learn to balance them.
Feminine energy cannot be owned; it is the very nature of the universe. Recent explorations of “dark matter” may be investigating this ancient energy, which existed before light. As all things—past, present, and future—exist in space and the universe, that ancient energy still holds and drives the expansion of the universe. The suggestion is that feminine energy is dark energy, predating creation and birth. Light, as a masculine energy, illuminates the dark, allowing us to perceive it, but the preceding, self-existing condition is feminine. Therefore, light is crucial to the creation of our universe and consciousness, but the darkness of the womb is the primordial state.
The mother cares for and protects the child on the most intimate level. We can extend this concept to include the creation of any kind—such as art, spirituality, or poetry. Personally, I write my creative work with a feminine voice, as it connects me to the sensitive, delicate part of myself essential for writing. The mother upholds our creative being, giving birth to the creator and nurturing the maturation of that creation. Regardless of societal or personal dynamics, every aspect of reality is connected to the feminine. The mother holds, nurtures, and creates us.
The maiden is symbolized by the dakini, often depicted in her late teens or early maturity. The dakini’s energy is linked to sexual awakening and discovery, which can sometimes lack compassion. While the dakini entices and softens the creative energy to approach her, she follows a deeper wisdom. Though often depicted as naked, in flames, and dancing in the sky, her connection is to the sacred feminine space of the universe, an energy predating all things. Her energy might seem capricious because she is linked to a higher order or her own feminine clan or community, making her actions incomprehensible to a more rigid, linear, masculine perspective. Thus, the maiden is always one step ahead of comprehension, dancing in flames in space. Though youthful and sexually appealing, the maiden exists within all of us. You can see her in the eyes of an older person in love or feel her in the embrace of someone who pushes you away for no discernible reason. In our male-dominated society, there has been an attempt to dominate and control this capricious energy, but the dakini cannot be controlled or possessed. She can be held, calmed, or tamed, but only provisionally. Like fire, with which she is associated, she warms, enlightens, reveals darker truths, but can also burn and move from one source of fuel to the next.
At that point, the dakini may leave us, her purpose fulfilled. Alternatively, this energy may transform into a more sustainable form, like the nurturing energy of the sister, akin to ducks that mate for life, swimming together in balanced harmony. Or it may evolve into the protective energy of the mother, who guides and shelters her brood.