THE WARRIOR

True strength is not measured by physical prowess, but by the ability to control one’s own mind, cultivate inner fortitude and resilience through the practice of self-mastery. Self-mastery is not about suppressing or denying your desires and emotions, it is about understanding them, acknowledging them and making conscious choices that align with your higher principles.

       – Marcus Aurelius

 

MEETING THE WARRIOR 

In many traditions the ideal of compassion is one of boundless kindness and caring. In the Shambhala Buddhist tradition, and generally in the Tibetan traditions on which it is based, kindness and caring are seen as dependent on confidence. The willingness to face our world with dignity and strength is known as the warrior principle.

The foundation of caring for our world lies in the strength in the warrior’s authentic being. In this sense, a warrior is not based on aggression in any way. When we are aggressive, we are being competitive. When we are in competition or struggle with another, we are defining ourselves by that metric. That is not what we mean by authentic. Authentic means we are acting from our own higher power.  Authentic Being on which warriorship is based is not the ego-self that is fighting with their world, or scrambling to please anyone. It is the sense of being based on our feeling of self-worth. When we rest in this basic goodness we naturally connect to our higher principles.

With meditation practice we begin to train the mind to recognize how authentic being feels and how that feeling differs from the way ego defenses feel. Our body is actually different when we are posturing. We begin to feel the difference between our ego gripping and when we relax and let go. It is recognition of this difference that allows us to step back from our defenses and meet our authentic being. Letting go into authentic being takes confidence. So, with our meditation practice we are training to recognize and embody the warrior within. By sitting in the warrior’s posture we are developing the confidence and bravery to let go of our defensive posture and claim our warror’s seat. By letting go we release the tension in the body and our mental grip on our struggle. This is not surrender. It is getting past our blockages so we can access the ability to see clearly.  Then we can respond appropriately.

By letting go we are expressing our authentic nature, our essential being. By contrast, when we adopt a defensive ego posture we are expressing a conditioned nature. Our conditioned nature often manifests as an habitual reaction to life. This defensive nature might masquerade as strength but, in reality, deep within ourselves, we are acting on fear.  Fear is the cause and condition of egos structure. We are simultaneously reacting to fear and creating fear. When we are caught in this cycle of anxiety-based lashing out or lashing in, we are acting unconsciously and are not able to understand how we are adding aggression to our being. Instead of maintaining the awareness to allow our emotions to serve us, we are allowing our awareness to be consumed by them. We react blindly becoming our anger, our fear, our lust, our denial. In this way, we lose the connection to authentic being. However, the good news is, we can easily reconnect to the warrior within by simply remembering. When we talk about meeting the warrior, we are talking about remembering how our authentic nature feels.

Don’t think about this. Just BE the warrior in body, spirit and mind.

We express our essential nature in meditation practice by adopting the posture of the warrior. In this way, we embody warrorship. We remind ourselves how it feels to be open to the present. While this takes confidence it also builds confidence. However, meeting the warrior takes time and is a constant process of unlearning our conditioning and remembering our truth. When we find the balance and majesty of sitting, we are training to remember the warrior on the battlefields of life.

Training in warrorship is learning to express our authentic being. In time, we learn to trust the warrior within us. As we become less fascinated with our reactive nature, we turn to the openness of our true nature, our Buddha nature. We are not adopting anything new here. We are releasing what has always been there. This is like the story of Michelangelo saying he didn’t sculpt David. He released him from the confines of the rock. When we release our true nature by releasing ourselves from the grip of our defenses, we are exhibiting and building the confidence to be open. Openness is the requisite for kindness. When we are open we are not weak or defenseless at all. In fact, we are more able to see clearly how to respond. Compassion takes many forms. The statues of Quan Yin or Avalokiteshvara are often depicted as having many arms to represent the many ways that compassion can manifest when we are open enough to see them. Confidence allows compassion to manifest as anger, love, caring or kindness as needed.

It takes bravery to be open enough to see what best serves the situation. The warrior rests in their authentic being with the confidence to respond creatively rather than react habitually. This is the warror’s posture. This is what we are training for when we sit.

This is meeting the warrior.

 

 

LOVING ACCEPTANCE

During this time of personal, social, and environmental stress, developing compassion is so important.  Yet, compassion isn’t always the first thing we think of when we feel attacked and triggered. If we unpack becoming triggered, we find we often become triggered when we feel overwhelmed and victimized. When this is the case, we most reflexively adopt a defensive posture. This is understandable. We close our eyes and start swinging. This action perfectly describes what compassion is not.

First, compassion is open eyed. When we are open to a situation, our response can be appropriate. If we are truly in danger, nothing is served by refusing to look at our situation. With our eyes open we can better determine the best response to secure our safety.  Secondly, when we start blindly swinging, we are reacting without conscious thought. Compassion is responding appropriately to our triggers, with our eyes and our mind open. On the other hand, neurosis is reacting blindly in ways that are rarely appropriate. Neuroses are maladaptive reactions. Whether lashing out, grasping, or running away these reactions are rarely a conscious choice. Our fear is creating an urgency that disallows the ability to slow down and see clearly. Usually, this means we don’t trust ourselves. It takes a certain self-possession to trust ourselves enough to stand in the fray of rising emotions and look before we hit send.

If compassion is the ability to act appropriately, even – and perhaps especially – when we feel attacked, then we must learn to love ourselves enough to be on our own side while we feel attacked. Compassion is predicated upon having compassion for ourselves. Many Buddhist traditions refer to Maitri as the necessary precondition for true compassion. Maitri, or loving kindness, means we are accepting ourselves and our situation before we react. If we learn to care for ourselves, we have the strength to pause before we try and change anything. It is not selfish to do this. It is essential.

Caring for ourselves need not be indulgent. Retreating to a warm bath to replenish ourselves is selfcare. Hanging out in the bath until we’ve become a prune in order to avoid our life, is not. So, Maitri is often described as “making friends” with ourselves and our situations. We are keeping a respectable distance from our pain, and not getting lost in neither the pain, nor the selfcare. The point is not the bath. The point is using the bath to restore our ability to respond accurately to life. By making friends with ourselves, we are making friends with our neurosis, with our triggers, our doubt and confusion. Maitri is making friends with the moment. The method to making friends is to become familiar with the situation. It is becoming familiar with ourselves. This is, perhaps, the most important result of our meditation practice. We keep coming back to the breath and our mindfulness of the breath creates the space for us to become familiar with ourselves. The patience to be present with each breath develops into the fortitude to be present in our lives.

Familiarity allows us to be less reactive with ourselves. This allows us to be with ourselves long enough to begin to see what we do. Seeing without reacting leads to accepting. This is why recognition is followed by acceptance in our practice directives. Rather than reacting to things we see about ourselves, meditation offers us the space to accept them. When we have the space to accept ourselves, we have the space to accept others. And that space with others, or circumstances in our life, allows us the opportunity to respond in ways that may be helpful, rather than harmful.

Once we are able to slow down and see ourselves, we can begin to see that we can work with ourselves. We learn that by acceptance of our own craziness we are less reactive with ourselves. In this way, we become less reactive of others. When we accept the crazy within ourselves, we begin to see that we are not unlike everyone else. When someone is hurting us, we might see the pain that is motivating them to be reactive. Then perhaps we can feel empathy. In any case, since we have created the loving space of non-reaction, we can perhaps see commonalities between ourselves and the other – even if they fail to see this themselves.

As we progress on the path of compassion, we have more responsibility. At some point, we have less need for others to respond as we want them to. If our actions are determined by what we expect from others, then we are compromised and not acting with true compassion. Compassionate action is giving without expecting anything in return. No giver, no gift, no receiver it is said. This is not to be Mother Teresa, necessarily. It is a very practical way to live. We just let go of what we are giving and trust ourselves enough to simply give. In a world of neurotic reaction taking a moment to pause and respond beyond the urgings of egoic defenses, is a gift. And we give this gift to others, and to ourselves. Not asking anything in return, leaves us free of resentment and expectation.

We don’t need grand gestures to be compassionate.  We just need to be friendly enough with ourselves that our friendliness extends naturally to others. This will increase the possibility of goodness in our life. And it will allow us to see the goodness that we already have. In this crazy dangerous world, there is still much love. As compassion is a natural quality of the universe, it is always there for us. When we have the humble openness to accept ourselves and accept love, we are able to love others even when threatened. With loving acceptance, we come to see that there is only love.

And just as giving can be devoid of demand and expectation, so can receiving. All we need to do to connect to the compassion of the universe is to remember we are loved. No matter how badly we feel or how damaged we’ve become all we need to do is remember how fortunate we are to be here. No matter how dangerous life is becoming, it is a blessing to be here and have the ability to help others.

As we become more compassionate, we have more ability to help this world, so much in need.

 

WHEN WILL I BE LOVED?

I used to live life driven by expectation. Not just expectation, but outright demand. As you can imagine, I was disappointed much of the time. “It always breaks my heart in two. It happens all the time.”

That disappointment with life led to judgement, resentment, and blame. I blamed all the people in my life who refused to play along with my fantasies. I carried my resentments around like bundles of old laundry.  Which, you know, tended to smell. I got used to the smell and the effort, but other people tended to move away. This led to further resentment. “No one understands me.” Or, as Phil Everly wrote, and Linda Ronstadt so beautifully sang, “When will I be loved?” I remember thinking ‘easy for her to say’ as she was a heartbreakingly beautiful woman with a voice that could crumble mountains. Yet after a number of high-profile relationships, Linda never married, citing “the problem of finding someone that can stand you!” ‘Pick me! Pick me!’ I would think. But the truth is, I had relationships with wonderful people who nonetheless failed to meet the fantastical imaginings of my brain.

The fact that I took these relationships for granted at the time never stopped me from thinking back on what could have been afterwards. This game allowed me to fall deeper into the cycle of resentment.  And, in this way, I was never alone. I had all my bags of laundry. There really wasn’t room for anyone else. All my relationships involved group sex. Me, my partner, and everyone else yammering about in my brain. I needed to make room for myself  before I could find room for anyone else. Obviously, I had to clear some things out.

The path of meditation is one of deconstructing and decumulating rather than accumulating. We are such an acquisitionally oriented species, we find it hard to fathom releasing ourselves from the grip of things. Meditation practice encourages us to open up, release our panicked grip on everything and let go. Letting go is not pushing anything away. It’s not throwing out the emo-laundry. It’s about no longer carrying it around everywhere. Maybe we throw out some, give some away, take the time to clean and fold the rest. Some of this laundry has made us who we are. We all have that kid’s onesie or football jersey we just can’t part with. But all of us can make some room for us to breathe.

We can forgive some attachments however that shouldn’t keep us from becoming anything else we might become.

We keep ourselves from becoming all we might become when we lock ourselves in the vicious cycle of expectation. Expectation leads to disappointment, which leads to resentment, that leads to judgements of all kinds. Thus, many of us carry a dull weight everywhere. We find it hard to move on with life. This discouragement causes depression. And an easy fix is to assign blame.  But blame is self-aggressive and tends to add more weight. We give away our agency and power. We become hostages to our own mind and try to escape the weight with drugs, alcohol, chocolate, or emotions. But anything we do sends us careening away from ourselves. These strategies only add more weight.

The path of meditation suggests that none of this is wrong. Wow. Imagine. All this dysfunction and none of it is wrong?  But, if our lives are complicated by dysfunction then if we can’t love dysfunction, what can we love? These strategies are only attempts to shield us from ourselves. We are so worried about the disappointments that we blame ourselves. And blame is unbearable as long as we’re holding on to living up to the expectation of who we think we should be. What if we could let go of all the blame, all the expectation, all the discouragement and just allowed ourselves to become what we are? Imagine today is the beginning of a new life for ourselves, where instead of living up to our old ways of thinking, we allow ourselves to begin to see who we are? What if we started that process from believing in ourselves? What if our life was oriented toward our potential and away from disappointment?

Meditation practice offers us the perfect template to train our mind away for disappointment. Each time we come back to the breath we are boycotting the conflagration of compounded thoughts and feelings and simply return to now. Then we complicate again, of course, so then we return again to now. It’s like Buddha’s razor. Cutting back to the simplicity of now. Whatever we did then is past and trying to fix it is only a complication we don’t need. In science or philosophy “Occam’s Razor” is the notion that the simplest answer is best. Buddha’s razor is training our mind toward the simplest answer, which is always in the present. We cut back to now.

With meditation we cut complication to clarity. Clarity is space. And with space, we have more room. We might find the drawer space to put our clean sox. As our mind becomes organized, we might notice our room has windows. At some point, beyond the windows, we might see the possibility of life beyond resentment and blame.

There is an old Monty Python skit.  A dad and son are looking out a window of their stately manor. The dad says, “Son, someday all this will be yours.” And the son looks to his dad and says, “What? The curtains?” And then dad rejoins, “No. Beyond the curtains.” To which the son asks, “Oh, you mean the window?”

And this is how my life was for so long. Living in the tightly bound knot of fantasy, expectation, disappointment, resentment and depression. The only way to untie that knot was the repetitive and boring practice of Shamatha. Returning my mind back to now, again and again until I found the space to breathe.

The answer to Linda’s question of “when will I be loved” is now. And we are the one to do it. In fact, we are the only one. And now is where we start.

 

HOLDING THE BROKEN

There are times we lag, times we resist and times we flat out refuse. In these moments, wrapped in the fabric of time and space, we hold tightly, becoming an emotional black hole. With infinite density, we sink deep into the universe.

And this is a beautiful place to begin.

For absolute darkness is where time began. This is where space was born. This is the place from which life ascends. The next time you meet that sacred space, allow yourself to rest. Quell the voices of judgement and disdain for they are not your voice, and they are not the voices of life. Hold to the broken and listen for the cries of our wounded children. Here we can open our hearts to ourselves. Here we are truly human.

And know that in this broken dark, we can begin again. Instead of believing that this is final, with all hope ended, we must know that we are just beginning. We need only try and relax and open to the life around us. We are bonded to life, for all life is born of pain. We are one with life forged in the violence of being.  We are part of reality stretched by the merciless bands of time. We are at the center of it all.

It is very common for us to shun the parts that hurt, turning from the pain in shame and denial. But when we do this, aren’t we turning away from ourselves?  And we are turning away at a time we most need help and support? We lock ourselves away from pain by tensing our body in false reactive protection and girding our minds with false protective stories. But this tension only amplifies the pain. As our discomfort funnels from the body we tighten our neurological gauge with tension and increase the pressure to our mind. The more tense we become, the more pressure we send to the brain. Trauma from our past, anxiety about the future, fear of the shadows growing around all converge on us. Our brain, charged with ensuring our survival, becomes overwhelmed and shuts down.

Are we fighting for our survival? We are certainly fighting – but is there anything in this moment actually attacking us but ourselves? So, the first question we ask is: what is actually happening now?  Catastrophic thoughts aside, are we actually in danger right now? Or is this fight for survival simply a pattern we’ve learned – an echo of past trauma?

The next question we ask is, what do you need right now?

When we look into our experience, we may not get answers. We may not feel better. We may not understand a thing.  However, we are paying attention to ourselves.  And that attention is love. Whether we like ourselves right now or not, by holding space for however we feel, we are loving ourselves in this moment.  And, if we are suffering from anxiety and depression, then we are loving ourselves at a time we really, really need it. We can choose not to hold back. We can choose to love. No matter how angry we are at ourselves, no matter how disappointed we are in ourselves, we can choose to simply be there with us. Like the love of the sun for the flowers. Flowers don’t beg to be loved, they simply are loved. People with their big brains have so much to think about that we have to remind ourselves that we are loved. No matter what our brain is shouting, no matter what the world is demanding, here in this moment, in our heart to heart, we are loved.

And what I need right now is love. All we have to do is remember.

Holding space for our pain means the body is actually opening. We don’t have to figure or fathom or fix. We breathe into the body and release the tension. As we breathe, the body opens and we are able to hold this moment with loving arms. There is nothing we have done wrong. There is nothing to explain, and no reason for shame. We don’t need to feel embarrassed or incapable. These broken moments feel lonely because we experience this transformation alone. Just us and our broken moment and the breath. Be kind. Be loving. Be patient.

And, as soon as we begin to settle, we can see that all beings have these feelings. All beings experience these things. All life has its broken moments. And, as we stop struggling with the moments, we release our grip and open in acceptance. Then love flows through us. Blood movies again. The nervous system returns to fluid communication. Our hearts begin to bloom. As we hold ourselves with open arms, we see that we are not alone. We are held in the loving hands of the universe. We are born of love, and when the time is right for our hearts to bloom, we will manifest that love.

As we breathe, we remove the blocks that have been keeping us from our spirit. ANd when the spirit is released, it is one with all life around it. And when we are ready to move, we can begin to move. Although we may be tired, broken or discouraged, this is the time to dance. Even if our dance is halting and slow, it will begin to grow.  Even if we are unsure, our movement will find courage.

Even if we are by ourselves, we are not alone. We are dancing with the universe.

 

PIC: is by the artist Yuko Tatsushima
https://medium.com/the-collector/5-dark-disturbing-and-vulnerable-paintings-by-y%C5%ABko-tatsushima-4230aaf3098f

ACCEPTANCE

Acceptance is an integral step on our spiritual journey. Tara Brach and Pema Chodron, in particular, speak eloquently of its importance. In the well-known “RAIN” template, acceptance follows recognition as the foundation of mindfulness. Once we see what is happening, the important and immediate next step is to open to the experience. An essential point here is that acceptance is opening.

Acceptance, however, does not imply agreement. We may be unhappy with circumstances and wish for them to change. But, before we can effectively change any situation, we have to understand what it is we are experiencing. The Buddhist path and the 12-step traditions begin with acknowledging and accepting our present circumstance. The Buddha taught that the path to the cessation of suffering begins with the recognition of our suffering. The 12-step tradition begins with the acknowledgment of our powerlessness over addiction. Both traditions have an effective success rate in helping people move toward greater self-awareness. Both begin with recognition and acceptance of our actual circumstance. Again, acceptance here is not agreement. It is taking responsibility for the moment by owning our experience. We may be seeing a situation that has kept us imprisoned for a long time. This is challenging. But it is happening, nonetheless. The only thing we can effectively change are our feelings. We can choose to struggle with what is happening, or we can release ourselves from the struggle by letting go of our grip and opening to the experience.

When we open to an experience, whether pleasant or uncomfortable, we are able to see and learn from it. What does this experience have to teach us? If we decide to seek the courage to change, we are well equipped to navigate the landscape. If it is not the time for change, we can make a mindful and intentional decision to accept ourselves in the moment and rest there. We are under no obligation except to be here.

Sustainable change that makes a profound difference in our life is based on self-awareness born of self-acceptance. This will lead to further understanding. This effective, mindful change is different from the neurotic fidgeting that offers a temporary release from tension. This superficial change is flailing about in avoidance. Many of us have experienced losing weight only to gain the weight right back when we’ve stopped the diet. Sustainable change based on self-awareness is dependent upon self-acceptance. Before we can change ourselves, we have to love ourselves. Even circumstances that annoy or frighten us can be met with loving kindness. Dr. King taught that the Lord told us to love our enemies. However, he explained, the Lord didn’t say we had to like them. The best way to change situations that we feel are unhealthy is to begin by accepting ourselves with loving kindness. This situation is not our fault. Before we can change anything in a meaningful way, we must accept the situation, but also accept ourselves and how we feel. We are facing a challenge. Acceptance means we might accept not liking the situation at all.

Acceptance of ourselves may be the most important thing we can learn in life.

Until we accept ourselves, we are in discord with life. Without acceptance we are at war. Desynchronized from our path, we live under a false-protective layer of fantasy. If we don’t accept ourselves, we can’t see ourselves. If we can’t see ourselves, we can’t see the path. By accepting ourselves, and whatever painful circumstance we may be experiencing, we take a necessary step in synchronizing with our spiritual journey.

But this is the why. Now let’s look at the how. The method for effective acceptance is to have loving kindness for oneself. This is called Maitri in Sanskrit. Acceptance means taking a hard look at the situation, but the only way to take a hard look is to be very gentle. This seeming dichotomy can be seen as a balance between the two complementary poles of wisdom and compassion. Wisdom and compassion are the two wings of the bird of awareness that work in synchronicity and achieve a balance. Wisdom is the clarity to see the naked truth of ourselves and our life. Compassion allows us to be kind with that knowledge.

Remember the game called “operation”?  The player had to move carefully to remove the wrench from the patient’s knee for if they hit the sides an alarm would ring. In the same way, we must be precise and gentle with our investigation so as not to trigger our defenses. The most profound part of accepting our life is accepting ourselves. The method is to love ourselves – even the parts we don’t like or would rather not see. In fact, lovingkindness can be applied especially to the parts we don’t like. By loving the broken parts of ourselves, we allow them to heal. By hating parts of ourselves, we subject them to an imprisonment, and they cannot change. The parts of ourselves we reject become frozen in time as we relive ancient injuries over and over again.

Holding the heart, we allow those things we wish to change in and give them the chance to heal.

Full acceptance is when we apply loving kindness with patience and humility. Patience as we learn to accept things we have been turning away from for so long. Humility as we learn we don’t have to be perfect. We don’t have to live up to anyone else’s ideas. We don’t have to apologize or rationalize to anyone. We are not obligated to anyone’s opinion or ideas. Our only obligation is to our own path and our own beliefs. To repurpose a line from an old movie, acceptance means you never have to say you’re sorry. We can accept who we are, as we are. We don’t have to do it right.  We don’t have to clean ourselves up in order to accept ourselves. When acceptance is fused with lovingkindness, we can learn to love ourselves as an imperfect work in progress. Of course, along with the loving acceptance, we still have to look directly. So, its wisdom and compassion. We love but are nonetheless willing to see who we are. And then we learn to love that. And then we look some more.

Finally, acceptance is a practice. We look for progress rather than outcome. We will make mistakes. We will fail repeatedly, sometimes miserably. But, just as in our meditation practice, we train ourselves to return. We come back to balance. We will accept ourselves again and again and, in this way, will develop greater and greater compassion for ourselves and our world.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

INDEPENDENCE

INDEPENDENCE

Tonight’s discussion is about independence. True independence. Not just our yearly excuse to eat poorly, drink excessively, and blow stuff up, but the spiritual uncoupling of ourselves to the bonds that keep us imprisoned. The Shambhala Tradition references the cocoon, which is a protective enclosure fabricated by habitual patterns of attack and avoidance. Once it’s served its initial insulative purpose, a cocoon becomes a combative imprisonment as we become dependent on its protective patterns. The “4th” has been a tradition for many of us, although our behavior on the day is often simply habitual. Habitual behavior causes us to lose awareness as activities become rote, and our holidays frequently devolve into excuses for indulgence, as they lose all meaning.

Independence Day in the U.S. is the celebration of freedom from the rule of those labeled as oppressors. Phrases like “independence from tyranny” were shouted from the streets to excite the passions of the populace. Our independence was dependent on a struggle with a perceived enemy.  This is a very human pattern. We invoke a dangerous other against whom we can forge an identity.  But, in reality, apples don’t fall far from trees.  We were fighting for our independence from friends and family; those who would become our closest allies. Revolutions are often a reiteration of the same patterns. In the words of the 20th century philosopher Peter Townsend, “Meet the new boss. Same as the old boss.” When we push against anything it pushes back and we become karmically bonded to it. We also become bonded to the struggle. When our identity is dependent on struggle, are we actually independent?

In Buddhist terms, we differentiate “true” from “conditioned”. True refers to that which is preexisting, inherent and natural to our experience. Conversely, most conventional understanding is conditional, based on conventions developed as survival strategies. Conditional independence is an idea that offers us a sense of freedom, although freedom that is dependent on the struggle against another. When our self-worth is dependent upon anyone or anything else, are we truly free?   On the other hand, True independence is the result of a personal inner journey to free ourselves from psychological and societal dependencies. If struggle binds us to our adversary, surrender is the first step to our independence. The key to surrender is letting go. Letting go is releasing our grip. We are not letting go of our heart, our inner journey, or our dignity. We are surrendering our panic constricted clenching. We are letting go of identification with the struggle, and freeing ourselves from the centrifuge of its aggression.

Independence Day marks the anniversary of the birth of our nation. But as that independence was born of aggression, it was in fact dependent upon struggle. Therefore, throughout our history, we have been karmically bound to aggression.  Our identity has been defined by the enemies we have vanquished or fought against. And while our survival depended upon many struggles to which we can be grateful, our social and political identities are forged against those who we are not, and to those struggles that we remain continually indebted. Our national identity relies on a co-dependence with our world.  But true independence – or liberation – is a surrender to our deepest human experience, which opens to the possibility that while we are individually unique, we are not different from each other. Our enemies want the same things as our families. In fact, our enemies are our families. As Shantideva said, “all beings want to be happy.” Finding the commonality is key to a healthy connection to our world.

When we connect to our deepest sense of being, we are touching something very inmate and personal that is nonetheless shared, in multifarious ways, with all beings. Whenever we are able to surrender and release ourselves from identification with our struggles, we are able to connect to others without the co-dependencies to which we’ve become conditioned. Our world can become more informed by what is actually out there, then just a marketplace to fuel our broken needs. By connecting to the essential goodness in ourselves, we connect to the basic goodness in others. This is interdependence. Our once lonely path of self-realization leads to the understanding that we are actually connected to all the life around us. By looking into our intimate selves, we gain the strength to realize we are not indebted to anyone; but connected to everyone.

It is great to celebrate the historical date of our nation’s independence by having hamburgers on the grill, and scaring our dogs as we blow things up. But to those committed to the path of liberation or true independence, it is also good to celebrate daily with a meditation practice that strengthens our ability to let go and connect to the basic goodness of ourselves and our world. Each time we come back to the present, we add light to our cocoon. Eventually, we see the cocoon as temporary, and its habitual patterns as temporary maladaptive strategies we are meant to grow beyond. The butterfly needs to struggle for the strength to free itself from the cocoon. But once free, it is able to fly into the beautiful world, which is its birthright.

12-step recovery traditions ask that we “find the serenity to accept things we cannot change,” so that we may develop the courage to change the things we can. The point is to develop the wisdom to free ourselves from attachment and addiction. Or as is said in another prayer, that we  “become liberated from the bonds of self.”  Our wisdom connects us to the wisdom mind inherent in all beings.

Wisdom lights the path to our liberation. And liberation is the ground for a healthy inter-connection to our world.

The picture today is of a young Chogyam Trungpa with one of his two primary teachers, Khenpo Gangshar. They are gesturing with the awake mudra, which is also a nod to surrender to the eventualities being imposed by the Chinese Communist armed forces. Although many Tibetans fought valiantly, the change was inevitable.   The tragic overthrow of Tibet’s medieval government ultimately served to liberate its teachings in a spiritual diaspora that is enriching the modern world to this day.  The heart essence of those practices lies in the belief in the basic goodness of all beings and so was relatable to people in all walks of life.

REPARATIONS

I am writing this on Juneteenth, a holiday in the US that has recently become a national observance, although many states have yet to institute that. The date marks the anniversary of the legal emancipation of enslaved people on June 19, 1865.  A day we not only celebrate the independence American slaves, but also acknowledge the great suffering that Slavery created, the reverberations of which continue to this day.

Today may remind us of the trauma humans inflict on each other when they are driven by economic pressure, racial prejudice, hatred and ignorance. Optimistically, it may mark an ongoing movement to attempt to address the wrongs committed by our national social and economic reliance on slavery and perhaps the wrongs instituted by racism and hatred then and since.

How could a country that longed to be a world leader have remained economically beholden to the enslavement of humans well past the point other nations had shunned the practice? How did something as ethically and morally dubious as slavery become an integral part of its social base? How could this society declare that all men (sic) were created equal, endowed with a God-given right to freedom when, in truth, the freedom of a few was secured by the oppression of others?  Perhaps, rather than saying “freedom for all”, they may have said, “freedom from all.”   The founding fathers may well have seen themselves as the God-chosen few, and others as … well, other.  As much as hatred or bigotry play significant parts in the hearts of extremists, it is the failure to recognize the humanity of those unlike them that allowed them to systemically turn a blind eye to such cruelty.  Cruelty is different when applied to property rather than humanity.  Whether it was slaves, women or children much harm was inflicted upon those deemed property. It is easy to justify cruelty when it is inflicted on property. Hence, educated and “aware” people could be blind to their actions. There were many who spoke against slavery as they dressed in the fine cotton clothing available at an affordable price. Many of us still do.

Are we so different today? Where are we blind to how, despite our best intentions, we might be contributing to societal imbalances?

The wrongs of slavery were historic, but also have created a human trauma that exists contemporaneously. The disparity between those we consider like us, those we see as other and those we believe are against us are standards very much embedded in our culture. While this exists along racial lines, it also happens along gender and religious lines, as well as and lines of sexual orientation and expression. Otherness is very common to our society. Seen as a spectrum, there are levels from the relatively innocuous to the egregious that manifest as appreciating a different culture, to shunning them, to actually seeing them as an enemy to your way of life. As explained by the character Demosthenes in Ender’s Game, the ability to accept another as an equal is not an acknowledgement of their spiritual evolution, but of our own.

Juneteenth, and the idea of reparations, are much debated. Maybe this is sparking a conversation we need to have right now. And maybe we can look at this from a personal point of view. What harms have I caused others that require some repair? The point of reparations is not self-denigration, but possibly self-liberation. How can I free myself from the entanglements of the past, by acknowledging when I have harmed others? How can I use that to try and assuage the damage? Amends to another is not always practical, or possible.  However, it is always possible to take responsibility for my own behavior and understand its effects. By acknowledging my own prejudices I can grow beyond bias and begin to see how I other others. When do I segregate my feelings into categories of “othering” – those I appreciate, those I appropriate, those I tolerate, and those I hate.

And when am I using this system of segregation as a moral high ground? For, looking down on another, is a very effective  way to other another. Looking down on those I feel are in the wrong (perhaps even wronging others) makes me feel good about myself and protects my cherished point of view from the threat of change. The truth is, we only see a fraction of what is just before us. Actually, we only see a fraction of what we actually see. We select and choose what is important to us before we are ever conscious of doing so. For the meditator, the antidote to ignorance is developing mindfulness. This is our very personal repairation. We recognize when our consciousness is ensconced in a thought, which is often a frame or a point of view.  And we release ourselves for the grip into a new and more creative way of being.

Maybe today is about beginning conversations as a way to step toward acknowledgement and reparation. Being willing to question ourselves is not demeaning. It’s not attributing guilt or fault. It’s just developing the strength to see what we are otherwise missing, especially when we believe we are right.

The practice of meditation allows us to uncover how we hurt others while we develop the compassion and kindness not to inflict harm upon ourselves. From a Buddhist perspective, any time we distance ourselves from aspects of our world, we are acting with aggression. We might do this by hating them, or what they stand for, but more commonly, we do this every time we lock someone behind a self-protective protective frame. How often has our internal dialogue dismissed someone with “oh there are so crazy today”? Are we listening to each other?

Coming back to the breath we leave our frame and step into the openness of the naked present. We can step back within ourselves and see our tendency to push away, or drw closer in order to avoid intimacy. Coming back to the breath is very intimate. It’s a way of accepting ourselves in the present, which will allow us to accept others. By accepting ourselves we can begin to accept how we have caused harm to others. By acknowledging that, we can learn how to be more conscious and more kind in the future.

Reparations, amends and forgiveness do not change the past. But they may change our future.

Moving On

Last week we discussed letting go from the point of view of releasing our grip. We spoke about this as not being getting rid of anything, but releasing our grip on a few things so we can gain access to everything else. This doesn’t mean we dont touch on things we need or appreciate, but that we are willing to let go of our grip, so we can move on to what’s next. We’re  effectively touching in and then letting go as a process of moving forward.

In my coaching, I use the analogy of rope climbing. We move up our life-cliff one hand at a time, reaching forward and then releasing as we go. Holding is actually an important part of this process. Mindfulness is, after all, holding to an object (Tibetan: Trenpa). We do this to stabilize the mind so it relaxes into awareness. This allows us to see more clearly. We call the fusion of awareness and clarity “presence” or “presently knowing,” as in being presently aware (Tib: Sheshin). This presence allows us to relax into the flow of life.

Once we come back to the present, it’s important we remember to let go. In the Shambhala tradition they call this “touch and go“.  If we don’t let go then mindfulness becomes fixation. The point of our meditation isn’t to become experts at breathing. It is to use the breath to synchronize with the present. We do this so we can let go into the flow of life. Fixation obscures awareness by closing down on an object. We lose objective awareness and see our own projections as real. Rather than a point in actual reality, our mentally imagined projection becomes the reference point.  When this happens, we become fixated on our mind, rather than connected to our life. Instead of using a taut rope to pull ourselves upward, once we intuit that our rope is not real, we become frozen. Our reference point becomes more important than our life. We become stuck on the cliff face afraid to let go.

However, the rope of our mindfulness is always there if we remember to come back to it. We touch into the present and then let go into the flow of life. LIfe is not static. Life is dynamic and in constant motion. This is why I’m not comfortable with terms like “being in the Now.” It’s as though now is a thing we can possess. But the only things we truly possess are the imagined fixations and attachments of our mind. Reality is much more fluid. The present moment is an exciting place as anything might happen. However, that can also be unsettling. It’s like looking down from the cliff. As we said, our tendency is to freeze (fixate) in response to fear. This is how fear forges attachments. Attachments are things we cling to when we are afraid to let go into the flow of life. However, the good news is that the remedy for fear-based clinging is to let go. Just return to the breath. When we do this, we are no longer locked in the mind. And the mind becomes able to perceive the world. 

A common technique in developing mindfulness is to use the breath as our reference point – in the case of the cliff analogy, it is our rope. When we connect to the rope (Tib: Tendril), we are stabilizing our awareness.  We can connect to the breath in formal meditation as well as on the spot in life when we become triggered. When we become triggered, we feel attacked and our reflexive tendency is to shut down or fixate in defence. However, connecting to the breath we can actually breathe though this mental panic and relax back into the presence of real life. As the breath always happens in the present, when we become mindful of breathing we are becoming present.  Mindfulness of the breath is also a natural relaxant, so connecting to the breath allows us to relax into the present. Relaxing into the present we are developing presence, the power of presently knowing (Tib: Sheshin).

When we relax into the present we have what Trungpa, Rinpoche referred to as panoramic awareness. We are able to see the space around things rather than attach to those things as things we attach to. As we ascend the cliff and are able to see more of the life around us, our attachments become appreciation. Rather than closing our eyes to the world, we are learning to open them without distraction. It is said, we begin to “see pain and pleasure alike as adornments, which are pleasant to wear.”  We are able to touch on the wonderful things in life without having to own them. By developing mindfulness, we learn to touch and then let go into awareness. In other words, we come back to the present in order to let go into the flow of our life.

And our life is always happening here in the present, whether we are aware of it or not. Our job is to return to it so we can move on with it.  This essential existential synchronization can happen anytime we remember. It doesn’t matter how long we were lost in our mind. Once we return to the present, we are back. The rope is always there. When we fixate, we become stuck in our mind. But no matter how long we were gone, or how compelling our fantasies were, when we come back to the present, we synchronize with the flow of our life, already in progress.

Then instead of being stuck in our life, we can learn to move on.

 

(PIcs are the remarkable banksy, of course… )

Letting Go

When we talk about letting go we usually think of getting rid of something or pushing something away. But this negative is perhaps more work than necessary. From a positive point of view, rather than struggling with anything, we can see letting go as adding space by releasing our grip. Letting go can be seen as opening up and relaxing into the flow of our life instead of grasping and clinging to the straws on the shore.

When we attach to something we distort our perception of it and ourselves.  We imbue the object with qualities it doesn’t necessarily have and open up a number of programs in our deep psychology, such as fears of failure or abandonment, that only cloud our understanding. Hence, Buddhists look at attachment as causing “obscurations” to clear seeing or true understanding. Rather than strangling things we love so they will never leave us, we can actually honor them by stepping back and seeing them more clearly.

The same is true of the things we fear and those we wish to avoid.  While it’s obvious to see our clinging to things we love, it’s harder to understand that hatred or disinterest are also forms of fixation. When we keep arguing with someone in our minds, we are clearly attached to them. The more we try and push them away the more stuck with them we become. Similarly, dissociation and procrastination can be the result of attachment to avoiding underlying, unregarded fears.

I used to speak at the Shambhala Center of New York and there was a student who came regularly and regularly had a list of complaints about community founder Trungpa Rinpoche. I always honored his point of view because critical intellect is so important to true understanding. But at some point his point was made and made again and yet the complaints continued.  Finally, I told him that I wished I had as much devotion to Trungpa as he had. His one-pointedness was impressive. Yet, if he was willing to let go just a bit, he may have experienced other points of view.  Letting go is not an admission that we are wrong, or that our affection was misplaced, it’s simply that maybe we can understand more fully if we step back. I call this offering a “loving space.” It’s not a dismissal, it’s a way of understanding.

When we become attached, we actually identify some aspect of our experience with the object. One aspect of this is when we become dependent upon a relationship of any kind.  We might lose perspective and get lost in a tug of war of need. I need this or I need that. This doesn’t allow room for either partner to be themselves.  We call this codependent.  Some people look at codependency as two people who co-trigger each other. But from a Buddhist perspective, we understand that it’s our attachment not someone else’s. The work for us is to avoid blaming anyone or expecting them to change, but to recognize that trying to fix things is still fixation. The remedy is easier than we imagine.  All we need to do is loosen our grip and take a step back.

Again, letting go is not pushing anything away. That is another form of fixation. “I don’t want it!” doesn’t mean we are seeing clearly. It’s about perspective. Stepping back need not be dismissive. In fact, it can be loving. It’s adding loving space.

From an experiential point of view, we are talking about the difference between gripping and opening. With regular meditation practice we develop mindfulness of body. We can actually feel our body gripping as it happens. Our stomach tightens, our jaw clenches, our brow furrows. All of these are ways of closing down and fixing. I had a student who was actually frowning when we were discussing joy. I asked her about this, and she said she was thinking about what I said. But it felt more like blocking. It seems joy is an experience that begs us to open. The same is true of so much of life. Whether we love it, hate it or just want to get away, if we cling to it, we are shutting down and making everything more important than it needs to be.

Letting go can be seen as releasing the grip and opening the loving space within our life.

 

MEMORIAL DAY

I’m writing this on the day set aside to honor those who died in the armed service of our country. More recently, it is the day that for many of us, despite the actual calendar date, commemorate the beginning of summer. We light up the BBQ, pull out the clubs, rackets, bats and bathing suits. We can wear our white shoes again.

Like most holidays in our culture, the day’s original sentiment has become clouded by temporal concerns. The idea that we delineate a time to have fun and connect to friends and family is not a bad thing. But it seems we might do well to remember those on whose shoulders we stand. We can remember those who gave the ultimate sacrifice, but perhaps this can also be a day to remember the family members or friends who have left us. We can remember those who helped guide society, such as Dr. King. We can remember the people of color killed by police, or the many others senselessly killed by hatred, anger or greed because of the color of their skin or the affections of their heart. And while these deaths have served to create some change, we might also remember those who have died in vain because despite the shouting and regardless of the tears, in some cases, little has changed. In fact, gun violence is actually on the rise. Death by gun fire has become the leading killer of children in America. Read that again.

That is a new definition of insanity.

While we remember those who fought and died to protect America from violence abroad, we might also remember Americans who were victims of violence here at home. Memorials erected to soldiers and those who died in battle remind us of their sacrifice. But what of the unwilling sacrifices of those who died simply because they live in the most violent country on earth that is not in an actual war. Read that again. Slowly. Perhaps today, we can remember those whose passing has urged us to consider changes to our life and society. Perhaps today we can make a commitment to keep praying that our world will become a more compassionate home to all of us. And if our nation is indeed the greatest on earth, then we might take our place as a leader, guiding the world toward the tolerance and understanding that our forebears proclaimed. And if we are truly brave, we can do this whether or not anyone follows.

With regard to memorials, I love the Tibetan Buddhist approach of honoring the transient nature of things, such as with sand mandalas, which are elaborate portrayals of colored sand that take days to construct only to be scattered in a matter of moments at the conclusion of the ceremony. This explains the Buddhist reverence for change, and non-ego. No one tears down a sand mandala. Similarly, Tibetan prayer flags, which are inscribed with prayers of compassion that are thought to traverse the earth as they are buoyed by the wind.  The picture for this post is of prayer flags hanging off my friend Jen Parde’s deck. I took this picture after the traumatic passing of her cat Huxley. I was sitting on a chair a bit shell shocked and noticed the flags were moving gently in the wind. This moment will likely stay in my heart for a long while.

So, yes, let’s enjoy the burgers, the hot dogs, the ears of corn. Celebrate friends and family. But know that all this comes at a cost. And perhaps each of us can bow our heads a moment for the ordinary heroes, whether soldiers slain in battle or people slain for the color of their skin, those murdered because of their sexual orientation or children killed by gun violence. Perhaps we can dedicate their passing to the belief in a future where these things will no longer occur.

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Thank you, and much love this holiday weekend