Right Thinking

The Thinking Man sculpture at Musée Rodin in Paris

The Thinking Man sculpture at Musée Rodin in Paris (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

In The Heart of Buddha’s Teaching, Thich Nhat Hanh writes about the Four Noble Truths one of which is Right Thinking  He outlines four practices for developing Right Thinking:

1.  “Are you sure? If there is a rope in your path and you perceive it as a snake, fear-based thinking will follow.  The more erroneous your perception, the more incorrect your thinking will be.”

2. “What am I doing?  Sometimes I ask one of my students ‘What are you doing?’ to help release his thinking about the past of future and return to the present…To respond he only needs to smile.  This alone would demonstrate his true presence….When your thinking is not carrying you away and you do things in mindfulness, you  will be happy and a resource for many others.”

3.  “Hello Habit Energy.  We tend to stick to our habits, even the ones that cause us to suffer.  Workaholism is one example. Our way of acting depends on our way of thinking.  When we recognize this, we only need to say, ‘Hello habit energy,’  and make good friends with our habitual patterns…When we can accept these ingrained thoughts and not feel guilty about them, the will lose much of their power over us.  Right Thinking leads to Right Action.

4.  “Boddhichitta.  Our ‘mind of love’ is the deep wish to cultivate understanding in ourselves in order to bring happiness to many beings. With boddhichita at the foundation of our thinking, everything we do or say will help others be liberated.”

True Knowing, False Knowing

NunsWithGuns

“This is what is ultimate in the human knowledge of God–to know that we do not know God.“—St. Thomas Aquinas

More from Anthony De Mello:

In India, we have a saying for this kind of thing:  “neti, neti.”  It means: “not that, not that”…C.S. Lewis (the great Christian apologist) had married a woman he loved dearly.  He told his friends, “”‘God gave me in my sixties what he what He denied me in my twenties.”  He hardly had married her when she died a painful death of cancer.  Lewis said his whole faith crumbled.

I remember that when my own mother got cancer, my sister said to me, ‘Tony, why did God allow this to happen to Mother?”  I said to her, “My dear, last year a million people died of starvation in china because of drought, and you never raised a question.’  Sometimes the best thing that can happen to us is be awakened to reality.”

DeMello concludes that we cannot know God through the knowledge human being s have collected and claimed as the ultimate work.  We can only discover for ourselves, as Buddhists and mystics always have.  As we travel the path, we come across one falsehood after another  find it is “neti, neti.”   In this way we can approach what is true.

As DeMello says, ” This is what is ultimate in our human knowledge of God, to know that we do not know.  Our great tragedy is that we know too much.  We think we know, that is our tragedy; so we never discover.”

When we refuse to investigate reality, we are doomed to repeat unreality. Non-believers, and believers alike,  we defend our “knowing” like nuns with guns and do not see beyond the end of our rifles.

Real Nation, False Nation

Anthony DeMello was a Jesuit and a mystic.  Here he talks about nationalism, another fear-based unreality.

War_to_bring.jpg

War_to_bring.jpg (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

“…I’m an Indian.  Now, let’s suppose that I’m a prisoner of war in Pakistan, and they say to me, “Well, today we’re going to take you to the frontier, and you’re going to take a look at your country.”  …I look across the border, and I think, “Oh, my country, my beautiful country.  I see villages and tress and hills.  This is my own, my native land!”

After a while one of the guards says, “Excuse me, we’ve made a mistake her.  We have to move up another ten miles.’  What was I reacting to?  Nothing.  I kept focusing on a word, India.  But trees are not India; tress are trees.In fact, there are no frontiers or boundaries.  They were put there by the human mind; generally by stupid, avaricious politicians.

Flags are in the heads of people.  In any case, there are thousands of  words in our vocabulary that do not correspond to reality at all.  But they do trigger emotion in us!  So we begin to see things that are not there.  We actually see Indian mountains that don’t exist.  We see Indian people who also don’t exist.

Your American conditioning exists.  My Indian conditioning exists.  But that’s not a very happy thing.”

Real Love, False Love

Love for Arts

Love for Arts (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Since the theme of these blogs recently has been what is real and what is false, here is a song about real love by Alainis Morrisette.  I find it inspiring and adopt this as an aspiration for how I would like to love others–with real love, not false attachment born of fear.  Interesting how this type of love often appears as friendship.  Is friendship true love?  I believe so…

Real Compassion, False Compassion

kunzang_profile
Sharon Salzberg says this about true compassion:

Compassion is a practice of inclining the mind and of intention. Rather than laying a veneer of idealism on top of reality, we want to see quite nakedly all the different things that we feel and want and do for what they actually are. The mistake that most of us make at one time or another is to try to superimpose something else upon what we are feeling: “I mustn’t feel fear, I must only feel compassion. Because, after all, that is my resolve—to feel compassion.” So we might feel considerable fear or guilt, yet we are trying to deny it and assert, “I’m not fearful, because I am practicing lovingkindness and that’s all I am allowed to feel.” The stability at the heart of compassion comes from wisdom or clear seeing. We don’t have to struggle to be someone we are not, hating ourselves for our fears or our guilt.

False Self, True Self In the Words of Eckhart Tolle, Thich Nhat Hanh and Others

Thich Nhat Hanh

Thich Nhat Hanh (Photo credit: Leonard John Matthews)

Buddha was not a god.  He was a human being like you and me, and he suffered just as we do.  If we go to the Buddha with our hearts open, he will look at us, his eyes filled with compassion, and say, ‘Because there is suffering in your heart, it is possible for you to enter my heart.—Thich Nhat Hanh from The Heart of Buddha’s Teaching

As I wrote about deconstructing my false self in my last post, I thought it might be useful for readers to consider another reason there is a  need for such deconstruction for someone on a “spiritual” path.

Often people engage in the spiritual quest to— understandably— escape emotional pain.  They believe  that a path, like Buddhism, should be sufficient of its own for healing emotional wounds.  They imagine they will rise above them or detach from them and be free from their influence.    This is called “spiritual bypassing.”  John Welwood, a Buddhist and psychologist writes about this phenomena and its danger in his  article The Psychology of Awakening published in Tricycle Magazine.

“It can be difficult to understand or appreciate why we might need to resort to psychological work when many Asian spiritual practitioners have found liberation solely through the profound teachings and practices of Buddhism for thousands of years. But it helps to recognize that the highest, nondual Buddhist teachings, which show that who you really are is absolute reality, presume a rich underpinning of community, religious customs, and shared moral values that the West mostly lacks. Modern Western culture is marked by social isolation, personal alienation, lack of community, disconnection from nature, and the loss of the sacred at the center of our lives. And the Western self is riddled with inner divisions—between self and other, individual and society, mind and body, spirit and nature, or the guilty ego and the harsh, punishing superego—that were mostly unknown in the ancient cultures in which the meditative traditions first arose.

Many Western children also grow up lacking close, sustained early bonding with their parents, in contrast to the practice in traditional cultures, where parents often hold young children continually and even let them share their bed. Developmental psychologists argue that children with deficient parenting tend to hold onto the internalized traces of their parents more rigidly and develop parental fixations that haunt them in later life.

Thus Western children often grow up without the support of what the psychologist D. W. Winnicott called a good “holding environment”—a context of love and belonging that contributes to a basic sense of confidence and to overall healthy psychological development. Children who grow up in fragmented families, glued to television sets transmitting images of a spiritually lost, narcissistic world, lack a meaningful context in which to situate their lives. As a result, many Westerners suffer from what the psychologist Harry Guntrip considered to be the emotional plague of modern civilization: ego weakness, the lack of a grounded sense of oneself and one’s place in the world that shows up as self-hatred, insecurity, and self-doubt.”

(Stay posted for future posts on spiritual bypassing!)

In my last post I attempted to give  a synopsis of a book my sangha has been working with during the past three months in an  intensive called Deconstructing the Myth of Self.  For the next three months we will also refer to Eckhart Tolle’s work, A New Earth in which he also  talks about schemas, but his term for them is “the pain body.”  Below are some excerpts that speak to the same investigation of false self/real self.

“Any negative emotion that is not fully faced and seen for what it is in the moment it arises does not completely dissolve.  Children in particular find strong negative emotions too overwhelming…and tend to try not to feel them…Unfortunately, the early defense mechanism usually remains in place when the child becomes and adult.  The emotion still lives in him or her unrecognized and manifests indirectly, for example, as anger, anxiety, or even physical illness.  Most psychotherapists have met patients who claim to have had a totally happy childhood, and later the opposite turned out to be the case….Even if both parents were enlightened, you would still find yourself growing up in a largely unconscious world”  (Tolle 141-2).

“It is only when memories, that is to say thoughts about the past, take you over completely that {memories} become a burden…and become part of your sense of self.   Your personality, which is conditioned by the past, then becomes your prison.”  (Tolle

“In most cases when you say ‘I,’ it is the ego {false self} speaking, not you…{I} consists of thought and emotion, of a bundle of memories you identify with as ‘me and my story,’ of habitual roles you play without knowing, it, collective identifications such as nationality, religion, race, class, or political allegiance. It also contains personal identifications, not only with possessions, but also with opinions, external appearance, long-standing resentments or concepts of yourself as better or not as good as others, as a success of failure”  (60 Tolle).

Thich Nhat Hanh in his book The Heart of Buddha’s Teaching, writes about the importance Buddha put on knowing oneself, “The Buddha faced his own suffering directly and discovered the path of  liberation.  Don’t run away from things that are unpleasant in order to embrace things that are pleasant.  Put your hands in the earth.  Face the difficulties and grow new happiness….Buddhas and bodhisattvas suffer, too…(42 Nhat Hanh).

The conclusion of all three of these teachers is the importance of mindful loving-kindness  for yourself as you look deeply at your false self and its stories. “Use the energy of mindfulness all day long to be truly present, to embrace your suffering like a mother holding her baby.  As long as {non-judgmental} mindfulness is there, you can stay with difficulty” (37-38 Nhat Hanh).  Of course, he also encourages us to seek out the support of a sangha and friends who can be present for you as you seek for your true self.  He adds that keeping your suffering to yourself only makes it grow larger.

The moment  you know how your suffering came to be, you are already on the path of release from it—Buddha

False Self, Real Self

No Mud No Lotus Quote

Calligraphy and quote by Thich Nhat Hanh

“The more neurosis the more wisdom.”—Pema Chodron

How and Why We Form Personalities/Identities

Real self is an aware, basic goodness.

False self is a complex web of stories that we call our personality and take to be our real self.

Awareness and Goodness = you without “personality,” your familial, or culture definitions.  Or as Sadhguru puts it, “The less your personality, the more your presence.”

The real you  is hidden underneath the messages we picked up and formed into our conclusion about who we needed to be in a particular family and culture.  These messages may have been spoken directly to us , or implied by disapproving or approving looks and body language. This is the foundation for the creation of  a “false” self. 

When we had no language, or little language, we felt messages, and this was more powerful than the words we learned that eventually accompanied our felt knowledge. The experience we had of the world and our caretakers set the imprint that became deeper and deeper into our minds and hearts through repetition–our own repetition and addition to the stories, as well as the repetition of those around us and our cultures.  This repetition resulted in what Thich Nhat Hanh calls “habit energies” and, if they are negative enought, what Eckhart Tolle calls “the pain body.”  The stories take on a life of their own within us resulted in what we call our “self.”

Why bother to look at the stories we construct? Won’t that be counterproductive, self-indulgent, living in the past when I am told I must live in the present?   Can’t we just be positive and loving and change our minds and identities that way?  But our stories of who we are always active in the present.  This avoidance of our stories is often called  spiritual bypassing  (see more about this in my next blog) and is common among spiritual seekers.  Gangaji, in The Diamond in your Pocket provides a good explanation (as do many others) :

“I have often seen in spiritual circles that instead of a real examination of our storylines, there is a tendency to suppress the story.  In that suppression, the story may seem to be removed, but there is still no peace.  You cannot rest in the beauty and transcendence of yourself while suppressing the story…it is still going on, but since you identify your self as a spiritual seeker, you push it out of conscious awareness.  Spiritual conditioning has simply taken the place of worldly conditioning (60).

She goes on to talk about the importance of self-inquiry,

“This most basic question, Who am I? is the most overlooked.  We spend our days telling ourselves or others we are someone important or unimportant someone big, someone little, someone young, or someone old, never truly questioning this most basic assumption. (49)

My Experience During the First 3 months of this Intensive

What we are doing in this intensive is actually just following The Four Noble Truths of Buddhism.  The First Noble tells us to simply begin by recognizing our suffering. The Second Noble truth tells us we can discover the causes of our suffering. The third Noble Truth says  that we can free ourselves from suffering.

The path to this freedom doesn’t have to be through Buddhism, of course, it can be different for each of us, but probably each path has the common requirement of developing compassionate self-acceptance and loving kindness that allows us to forgive ourselves, and to forgive others who have been “asleep” to their basic goodness: our real selves.

I’ve been attempting to uncover my real self that exists beneath my stories about who I am for the past 3 months during  an “intensive” course called  Deconstructing the Myth of Self,  offered  by the Florida Community of Mindfulness, a Buddhist group that follows the teachings of  Thich Nhat Hanh.

Again, this “work” will be sabotaged without self-compassion and non-judgment. In fact, for many of us in this intensive (about 50 people), our practice of  self-compassion is both most important and most difficult.  During the first month or two our teacher needed to keep reminding all of us to not judge what we saw as our “dark sides” or our “weaknesses.”  Instead, he encouraged us to be interested in our habits and stories.  Three months later, most of us have become more kind to our “false selves” and  more forgiving of how long we might have operated from these illusions–our ages vary from 30′s to 70′s.

We started the intensive with first  identifying  the false self and it’s origins.  It was helpful to refer to our “selves” in the third person:  She is agitated; she stays up late and obsesses about things she can’t control, etc.  It was– and remains– very useful to detach from “I” in this way.  I  found I am less judgmental about “her” than I am about “me.”

This is not an easy or quick process, of course.  In fact, it takes a lot of courage.  However, with the support of the teacher and my sangha members, I am surprised at the progress I’ve made in only 3 months.I  recognize the stories that create my identity.  I was not surprised by them because I have spent many years recovering from my childhood with two alchoholic parents, but looking at them in the context of finding my real self, instead of repairing my false self  has been powerful.  Of course,  skirmishes with my ego continue.  Ego–another name for fear– is all about me sticking with my stories!   However, I now sense some spaciousness in the clutter that is my personality.

One of the most liberating aspects of this process is that  I have discovered that I don’t feel a need to fill that space with a “better” self.   This is not about building  a nicer, more acceptable ego.   I’ve  stopped construction of any “new self” all together and take a look at what I built and why.  I chose this brick and that mortar because it was what was available in my family/society and was what everyone told me was the correct material.   However, the truth is I am not the bricks and mortar of my stories;  I am (we all are)  the spacious awareness inside, outside and all around the structures.

Some of us may think that is a frightening lack, an emptiness, but–with no effort on our part–as we truly let go, we fall into the arms of love naturally (people in 12 step programs experience this when they hit bottoms and finally admit they don’t have the answers).  When we stop clinging to the stories, or trying to change  them,  we look and see that spaciousness is full of goodness, compassion, acceptance.  If we are in the habit of controlling and clinging to people, places and things, we can find the lack of control frightening, but the emptiness/the absence of story  is actually where our security lies.  We don’t get to the our real selves until we recognize our false selves.  Here is where schemas come in.

Types of Schemas and the Brain: Why Our “Selves”  Seem So Solid and Real

Schemas are stories (based on childhood messages)  that form an habitual, fixed view of the world.  They are strategies to cope with the world; a way, we think, to gain love and safety.  During the formative years from  approximately 1-5, we  take mostly non-verbal  cues from our environment as we try to figure out who we are.  This pre-verbal information sinks deeply into the psyche of a child because it cannot be reasoned away and is felt more than understood.   Eventually we give these feelings about ourselves names and rationalize our deep connection to these identities.  Through habitual repetition of these stories we form a mind “rut”–an actual physical  imprint in the amygdala of the brain (the part that regulates the fight or flight response).  The brain can be changed though through mindfulness and meditation (note to self:  see pages 42-43 in Goleman’s book)

Gangaji, a fairly well-known spiritual teacher,  offers this explanation about stories and how they masquerade as practice, “Normally, you wake up in the morning and pick up the story of who you are.  You may do some mediation practice, but the real practice is the ongoing story of who you are.  The energy and emotion that the story generates gives birth to frustration, delight, pain, or pleasure, all revolving around this practice of the story of  ‘me.’ ” (italics mine)

It’s no doubt scary for most of us to investigate in this way because we feel afraid to be vulnerable and less than perfect–even to ourselves.  That is classic, controlling ego run riot!   But as Buddhist teacher and writer Ezra Bayd says,

“It’s a given that we don’t want to feel the fear of unworthiness, but at some point we have to understand that it’s more painful to try to suppress our fears and self-judgments, thus solidifying them, than it is to actually feel them. This is part of what it means to bring loving-kindness to our practice, because we are no longer viewing our fear as proof that we’re defective.”

We are all in the same boat; we all have some distorted image of ourselves, even if we  have been fortunate enough to have loving and accepting caretakers or cultures that provide warm regard and caring communities.  Those folks have fewer distortions and therefore have  less need for strategies to survive.   However, many of us were raised by people who saw the world through their distorted stories of their false selves.

The causes and conditions of our lives vary, of course–from great trauma and abuse, to minor obstacles and mild disapproval as we grew up.  So schemas can take many forms, and people with  the same basic  schema may look quite different from each other since no one’s causes and conditions are exactly the same. In her book, Emotional Alchemy, Bennet-Goleman explains,

“In fact, even siblings raised in the same emotional environment can adopt differing coping styles for example to…abandonment or divorce or death.   One child may adapt an over-compensating strategy  becoming very clingy and  seeking reassurance in late life; the other may take an avoidance approach, steering clear of attachment to others  lest they, too, leave and make him suffer as he did in childhood.”

I’ll offer examples of how some common schemas can look, but I caution you, dear reader, about the need for kindness to ourselves as we examine these strategies.  We used them because it was our best or only choice according to  the causes and conditions of our lives at the time. By blaming or judging yourself or your caretakers, you construct another false identity.

The most common and  basic types of schemas are: entitlement, emotional deprivation, unlovability,  unrelenting standards/perfectionism, abandonment, subjugation, mistrust, exclusion , failure.

Examples of a Few Schemas (as described in the book  Emotional Alchemy):

Subjugation: …revolves around feeling that one’s own needs never take priority. But while people with this pattern give in easily, they build up a hidden resentment that can smolder into anger–the hallmark emotions of this schema…originates in a childhood dominated by controlling parents who give the child no say…children learn their feelings and needs are invisible. They learn to be powerless, helpless about their own wishes and preferences…some become rebellious, {others} do not commit to things, thus avoiding agreements that might make the person feel controlled…still another is surrender…they can go along submissively with partners who are strong and controlling. While they may rankle a bit at feeling trapped, at least they feel secure in such a familiar relationship. You may get back at people indirectly, though by putting things off, missing deadlines, etc.

Entitlement:  ...centers on accepting life’s limits…”I can’t stand to drive the speed limit–I feel I should be able to go as fast as I want…” People with this schema feel special–so special that they are entitled to do whatever they want….Those with this schema seem oblivious to the unfair burden their entitlement might create for others.  This attitude can rise from being spoiled in childhood…or parents who set no limits.  Another source of the entitlement pattern derives for the same root as the unlovability schema:  parents whose love seems conditional of the child having a certain quality.  Such children may exaggerate their accomplishments…they cover (their sense of inadequacy, even shame) …with narcissistic pride.

Perfectionism:  This distorting lens…focuses on what’s wrong with what you’ve done.  The failure schema leads us to expect too much or too little of ourselves.  This critical lens can alight on any situation always seeking out flaws.  People with this schema often blur the fine line between a valid discernment and a judgmental opinion; they see their criticism as correct and appropriate.  One sign…is that you feel you have to keep pushing and pushing yourself to do more…The emotional root of this is a sense of failing no matter how hard you try.  To blunt the likelihood of criticism, these people drive themselves to work much  harder than they have to, or give up dong things for fear they won’t be perfect.

Vulnerability:  …can lead people to be overly conscientiouss in order to ensure a feeling of safety–extra thrifty to the point of denying themselves pleasure, or embracing extreme diet or health fads in the hope of warding off some dreaded disease.  Loss of control lies at the core of the vulnerability pattern. The distinctive emotional signature of vulnerability is an exaggerated fear that some catastrophe is about to strike. The roots of vulnerability can usually be traced back to a parent who had the same tendency to catastrophize or to a time a person felt as if something bad was about to happen. The child learns to worry too much, either by following the parent’s model or because there are real problems in the family to worry about.

Unlovabiity: Shame and humiliation are the most prominent emotions in this schema. The sense of being somehow flawed and unworthy of being loved is often instilled by parents who were hypercritical, insulting or demeaning. The message need not have be articulated in words; children pick up nonverbal expressions of disgust or contempt. One way of coping with such demeaning messages can be seen in the child who is so beaten down that he accepts them. Such a child capitulates, building a definition of himself that has a deeply felt inadequacy at its core. Another child might erect a facade of bravado. The adults with this schema tend to hide themselves, revealing little of their feelings, making themselves hard to get to know. Others hide their sense of defectiveness behind an arrogant bravado.They feel a deep sadness when they are alone with thoughts that no one would want to be with you.

Deprivation:  My needs won’t be met” is the sentence that sums up the core belief of this schema.  One or both parents are so self-absorbed–whether in their work, in their own misery, or an addiction like alcoholism, or in constant preoccupation–that they simply did not notice or seem to care much about their child’s emotional needs.  The core emotions of this schema are a deep sadness and hopelessness stemming from the conviction that one will never be understood or cared for.  Like a neglected child, these adults often feel angry about their needs being ignored.  That anger in turn covers an underlying loneliness and sadness.  People with this schema may become demanding of attention, or conversely do too much for everyone else, or feel others should know their needs without being told.  They may become self-indulgent, spending too much or overeating.  Others become “parents” for other adults and feel they are never doing enough for another.

It’s important to understand that  most people have some combination  of these, but certain ones dominate more than others.

The Role of Mindfulness in Healing and Discovering Our Real Selves

According to the author, therapist and buddhist practitioner, Tara BennettGoleman,-“When we are the victims of schemas, we can easily be blind to the role of that pattern in our life’s repeated disasters.  The schema’s reality defines what we perceive and remember, but leaves us impervious to the fact that the schema itself is at work in our minds.  So we see the problem as ‘out there’ rather than in our minds.”

Many of us would prefer not to open this “can of worms.”  We feel it is too overwhelming to acknowledge our schema.  We might feel we are powerless over these learned habits of self-perception.  However, Bennett-Goelman tells us,

Suppression is not mindfulness.  Mindfulness hides from nothing.  It allows us to cut through the daze of denial and be straight with ourselves.  Mindful attention lets us see the bare facts and not fall for our own cover stories.  When we can look directly at intense of painful emotions, we develop a kind of courage and acceptance of how things are naturally unfolding in our experience.  At such moments we are not driven by hope or fear, not likely to repress the pain, to distract ourselves to avoid it, or to hope for something to happen so we won’t have to face what we fear.  Instead…we see that we’re probably more afraid of our concept about how distressed we will be than the actual experience.  Confidence and patience grow from this bold, challenging awareness” (Bennett-Goleman 44).

Mindfulness enables us to catch schemas as they begin to take us over. Our normal haste means that our emotional habits fly into action without us noticing what is happening–our minds are off somewhere else.” Mindfulness is the key to the door of NOW and the present moment is where all our answers lie. These automatic thoughts prove remarkably flimsy once we bring them into the clear light of awareness and counter them with evidence to the contrary” (153).

The Buddhist teacher and author Jack Kornfield says this about the power of mindfulness,

“With mindfulness we can learn that even powerful feelings and emotions are not to be feared.  They are simply energy.  When they are recognized, acknowledged, investigated, we are liberated from clinging {to them}.  And then we can choose.  We can act on those that need a response and let others be freed as the energy of life. ”

Meditation is a form of mindfulness that is especially useful in freeing ourselves of the false self:

“When we meditate, for example, we are not transforming ourselves. We are being transformed. Quiet, focused concentration enables something else to work in us and through us, something other than one’s usual ego-self. This opens us up and liberates a deeper grounding within ourselves. Our lack of self is what enables this process; it frees us from the compulsion to secure ourselves within the world. We do not need to become more real by becoming wealthy, or famous, or powerful, or beautiful. We are able to realize our nonduality with the world because we are freed from such fixations.” –David Loyd,  professor, writer, and Zen teacher.

The truth of who you are is untouched by any concept of who you are…You are already free, and all that blocks your realization of that freedom is your attachment to some thought (italics mine) of who you are” (Gangaji 45).

“Learning that we can trust the creative energy of Life itself enables us to relax more and more, because we don’t have to make things happen by force of our will” —Swami Chetananda

Wisdom, free from the clouds of the two
obscuring veils
Altogether pure and shining brightly like
the sun
Waking us up from the sleep of our
disturbed emotions and the chains of
mental habit
Scattering the darkness of not knowing.
—-ancient Tibetan prayer

“…these difficulties are our exact path to freedom”

Bowl of contentment

Bowl of contentment (Photo credit: UnnarYmir)

From Chapter 13 of past Tricycle Retreat leader Ezra Bayda’s new book, Beyond Happiness, The Zen Way to True Contentment:

We often look to relationships as a source of our personal happiness. Our relationships with our partners, friends, and family can certainly be enjoyable, and they enrich many dimensions of living. However, much of our unhappiness in life also comes from relationships; and strangely, even though relationships play a huge role in our lives, we are often very much in the dark when it comes to knowing why so much unhappiness is associated with them. Nor do we have a clear idea what to do about it.

Many books have been written on how to be happy in relationships. They often focus on how to find the right person, communicate better, get our needs met, or fix our problems. Some of these techniques are no doubt helpful, but they are still about striving for personal happiness, where we are at the mercy of external conditions and where we tend to stay caught in the highs and lows of emotion and attachment. And while this may be hard to accept, the personal happiness that we feel periodically through relationships, however enjoyable and meaningful it may be, is usually based in self-centered agendas. This means that we will rarely find the deeper and more genuine happiness that is possible for us.

Conversely, genuine happiness in relationships comes forth naturally when it’s no longer blocked by all the conditions that we normally add—our agendas, our needs, our expectations. When we’re more able to refrain from indulging our self-centered motivations, we no longer look at our relationship in terms of what we will get. Instead, as we move toward the generosity of the heart, we naturally want to give. Hemingway got it right when he said that “love is the wanting to do things for.” The problem is, this is far from easy; relationships are often so complex and messy, and our behaviors are so deeply rooted in our conditioning, that it takes more than the ideal of giving to get us out of our ruts and allow relationships to serve as a fruitful path to true contentment.

Before we explore what it means to give in relationships, let’s first look at what relationships are usually about. We always enter into relationships with expectations of what the relationship will do for us. This is true not only in romantic relationships but also in other areas—family, work, friends, and even casual encounters. More often than not, we’re not even aware of our expectations; but when we experience a relationship difficulty or conflict, it’s likely that our expectations are not being met. (I’m not referring to difficulties that may involve physical danger but rather the garden-variety things that come up in relationships.)

More specifically, whenever we enter into a relationship—from the most casual to the most intense—we want the other person to be a particular way, such as supportive, appreciative, affectionate, trustworthy, or kind. Or perhaps we want them to be neat or quiet. The point is, we always have our own agenda about how the other should be. Why? The reason we want the other to be a particular way comes down to the crucial fact that we want to feel a particular way; we want to feel safe, secure, appreciated, listened to, in control, and on and on.

When our expectations aren’t met, difficulties automatically arise and we may experience disappointment, anger, or fear. Think of a recent conflict in a relationship, and reflect on what expectations you brought with you. See if you’re aware of how you wanted the other to be or how you wanted them to make you feel. A helpful question to ask when it’s hard to see our own expectations is: “How is it (or he or she) supposed to be?”

Unfortunately, instead of looking inward to see our own expectations, we usually focus on who we can blame or how we can fix the situation. We’ll almost always view our relationship difficulties as problems to be solved, as obstacles to overcome. This may work in the short run, and we may be able to temporarily iron out our conflicts and feel some degree of stability. But this approach will never lead to the deeper equanimity of genuine happiness, because we’re missing the pivotal understanding that these difficulties, even though they may feel uncomfortable, are not problems to be solved. Rather, these difficulties are our exact path to freedom, in that they push us to go deeper into our life, to work with the very things that cause us so much unhappiness, namely, our demands that life, and others, be a particular way, and the sense of entitlement we have in thinking that we need to feel a particular way.

Experiencing the disappointment of not getting what we want, of not having our expectations met, often triggers our most painful and unhealed emotions. Whether we feel hurt, angry, or anxious, these very reactions are telling us where we’re most stuck; they’re also pointing to exactly what we need to work with. So whether we withdraw or attack, whether we blame or mollify, whether we self-justify or self-blame, we’re still caught in trying to fix the external situation in order to avoid feeling our emotional pain. We’re also missing out on the real healing response, which is to understand and stay with our own experience.

One very helpful tool in both clarifying and working with our relationship difficulties is to return to the three questions: Am I truly happy right now? What blocks happiness? Can I surrender to what is? There are some applicable examples of how this process works in chapter 6, but basically, the first question helps identify what we’re actually feeling (often we don’t know). The second question shows us where we’re stuck in our conditioning—our expectations, demands, or unhealed pain. Once we see our expectations clearly, and once we work through our surface emotional reactions, we usually reach that uncomfortable place where we begin to feel our deepest fears—such as the fear of being unworthy, the fear of being alone, the fear of being hurt again, the fear of rejection, or the fear of the loss of control or safety. Our fears may not necessarily be logical, but we still believe at our core that they are the truth, and they certainly dictate how we feel and how we live, thus blocking any chance for true contentment.

Finally, the third question leads us directly into the experiential process of coming face to face with our own fears—the fears that are almost always at the root of our unhappiness in relationships. Asking the third question—Can I surrender to what is?—allows us to do the one thing that can help free us from the domination of our fears: that is, to welcome them in and actually feel them. We may think we can’t stand to feel our fears, but the truth is we just don’t want to, primarily because they feel so uncomfortable. But over time we can develop the courage and confidence to stay present with our fears. We learn again and again that it’s awareness that heals; and gradually, the fears, which at one point felt so solid and unapproachable, are now much more workable.

As we become more inwardly free from our conditioning and our fears, the love and connection that are possible in relationships tend to flow through us more naturally. As our defenses are lowered, our heart opens, and there is a natural desire to give from the generosity of the heart. We discover that genuine happiness in relationships is not a product of having our expectations met or getting what we want but rather it is the consequence of freely giving in order to bring happiness to another. Nearly every parent has experienced this at some point—their deepest joy coming from giving unselfishly to their children. Unfortunately, this truth is often forgotten as relationships become more complex, and especially as fear supersedes our innate desire to give from the heart.

Sound Manifesting Physically

This is quite beautiful and quite amazing.  Enjoy!

 

RE-VISION: Fires and Floods

Image

“Shall I not have intelligence with earth?  Am I not partly leaves, and vegetable mould myself”?–Henry David Thoreau, Walden

As I wrote this in the Summer of 2012, acres and acres in 13 states of the American West were on fire.  Now, in the Fall of 2012, the floods have swept through the American Northeast.

Recent fires and floods can force us into the arms of fear.   However, in the face of the destruction I seek and have discovered striking and comforting similarities in the traditions of seemingly unrelated and geographically separated peoples:  Buddhist and  Native American.

The Buddhist practice of mindfulness and meditation, their belief in interdependence of all beings—from stones to humans, and respect for the great mystery of our illusions of separateness, these principles can also be found in teachings of numerous, if not most, Native American leaders and mystics. Each of these wisdom traditions emphasize our oneness with earth and its creatures.  Each cautions us to engage in more silence, more listening and looking.

My own Buddhist practice is inseparable from the natural world and it’s there I go for answers. It’s there that  I am advised to look by Buddha,  the Native American, the poet, the naturalist philosopher, and my own  elemental knowing.

*****

At 6:30 AM from my balcony, behind the palms and under the oaks, the sky is deep orange and pink. The trees look black in this still-soft rising light. Out here there are no problems– only trees, birds, breezes and flowers. This is true no matter what problem I was keeping alive indoors.

Once I step out into the world, letting go simply happens with no effort on my part. The air, the rising sun, the plants, and trees absorb my anxiety, coax me to breathe again, to open my heart and drop my mask. The energy coursing through everything, endlessly, is silent.  The only sounds that come and go at this hour are mockingbird songs, doves cooing, parrots and crows squawking, an occasional car growling down the street.

The air is exceptionally cool for this time of year in Florida and this would be an ideal time and place for meditation.  But I have my coffee cup in my hand and still feel groggy.  It occurs to me that I could keep my eyes open for this mediation and use the sky as my meditation focal point.

Eyes open, thoughts tumbling over and  upon each other in my mind, I know the answer is to look up and remember the sky—just the sky. Wide open and silent—such relief.  I watch my mind:  thinking, thinking, sky, thinking, thinking, sky…:  cluttered mind, open sky. Filled, crowded mind, empty sky.  That peaceful spaciousness that the Buddha talks about is just outside my door.  Large view, calm heart.  Is more necessary?

 Everything humans needed was once just outside their shelter.

Even now after we have carved  up the land, depleted its soil, paved it over, built buildings that dwarf the remaining trees, and still “dream” of owning what land that remains and still build yet more structures to “protect themselves from the “wilderness” from “the elements—even now we need windows, French doors, bay windows, open floor plans, walk-in closets,  “more room”seems to be our battle-cry.

Why do we so long for more room, a vista, a view?  Maybe we long for home: the space, the spaciousness of sky and earth and shoreline  where life flows, with no effort on our part.

Perhaps we are homesick. We cannot breathe deeply in these closed spaces.

We miss

the sky, the birds, and the open plains of grasses. Native Americans tried to tell us: the space is complete and filled with only what is real and needed. The place that is everywhere, filled with the knowledge of water and fire, of animals and insects.

Knowledge was inherent in all things. The world was a library and its books were the stones, leaves, grass, brooks and the birds and animals that shared, alike with us, the storms and blessings of the earth. We learn to do what only the student of nature ever learns, and that is to feel beauty.  -Chief Luther Standing Bear, Ogala Sioux 1868-1937

We covet

any place with a view.  We pay top dollar to see mountains or ocean as if they were pictures in a museum—not live, not real.  We “enjoy the view” before we return to reality  paved over with concrete.

We wait

in our offices or our living rooms and long for what we call “vacation.”  W call it “recharging our batteries” —not such an exaggeration since we have forgotten the source of our energy.  Where do we go to “recharge”?  Outside.  Out to breathe again.  Out to be quieted by mountains and lakes.

We return to

what we say is “full” of life:  commerce, chatter, control, capital and terror.  We fear what is empty because even as we yearn for it, we have forgotten what spaciousness really is.

There are no such things as emptiness in the world.  Even in the sky there were no vacant places… The world teemed with life and wisdom; there was no complete solitude for the Lakota.  —Luther Standing Bear

Luther Standing Bear (1868–1939), a Native American writer and actor (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

We yearn

for what we destroyed—our true selves, our true home.  We did not know we were destroying selves that share our atoms with every other living thing.

We scramble

to the beaches and forests  to bask in simplicity and non-doing.  We rush to what is left of the wilderness to “get away from it all,” but not for long. We set aside so little time for our return home; we give it so little meaning. We “use” the earth and then “leave” it behind—as if we can leave nature until we visit it again, as if it is a museum.

The Native American and the Buddhist knows her/his body was of the soil, the water, the fire, the air.  The Buddhist Forest Monks in Thailand sit in the charnel grounds watching the body’s elements fly into the air, float to the ground, settle back into the soil.  They sit on the ground meditating.

The man who sat on the ground in his tipi meditating on life and its meaning, accepting the kinship of all creatures and acknowledging unity with the universe of things, was infusing into his being the true essence of civilization.  —Luther Standing Bear

******

Except for environmentalists, most of us don’t think we have much in common with  a boulder, a cactus, a pine, or chipmunk. However, if we decide to be “good” citizens, we support the Sierra Club and the Wildlife Conservation.  Our good intentions all the while are for earth as the “other,” outside of us.

Earth’s body and creature’s are harmed, and we are harmed.  Most of us still don’t know this.  Not in our hearts and bones.  We look at the earth as if we are viewing it from another planet.  From a distance we pity what we have done to the forests, the water, the air. So, we think we must fix it, repair it like it was our car or our house—still believing in the illusion that we are the stewards of our “inferior” wildlife and its habitat.

 “Fear, separation, hate and anger come from the wrong view that you and the earth are two separate entities, the Earth is only the environment (italics mine). You are in the centre and you want to do something for the Earth in order for you to survive. That is a dualistic way of seeing…So to breathe in and be aware of your body and look deeply into it and realize you are the Earth and your consciousness is also the consciousness of the earth. Not to cut the tree not to pollute the water, that is not enough… “   Thich Nhat Hanh, Buddhist teacher and writer

Most of us  still hold earth at arm’s length like anthropologists: earth as us, we are earth… hmm…an interesting idea held by indigenous folks and spiritual types.

Speaking for myself, aside from moments of  reading poems by Mary Oliver (who knows what a snake wants upon waking), or essays by poetic naturalists like Chet Raymo (who knows what the stars say), or novelists like Louise Erdich  (who knows what the green grass teaches), except for those time, I know that I have held  this dual notion of earth being “out there”  and not a part of me.

We believe that the spirit pervades all creation and that every creature possesses a soul in some degree, though not necessarily a soul conscious of itself.  The tree, the waterfall, the grizzly bear, each is an embodied Force, and as such an object of reverence.”  –Chiyesa (Charles Eastman) Santee Sioux, 1858-1939

*********

The East drowns and the West will burn again.  A lightning strike ignited the parched trees. The melting icecaps raise the ocean levels.  Nature, we know, is responding to our hundreds of years of abuse.   The earth responds to cause and effect as do humans.  Buddha called this phenomena karma.   Native Americans knew our karma would result in nature’s pained response.

The East drowns and West will burn again.  First, face ourselves, our terrified minds.  See ourselves mirrored in the water and the sky, in the eyes of a dolphin and a dove.

“We are part fire, and part dream.  We are the physical mirroring of Miaheyyum, the Total Universe, upon this earth our Mother...”   —Fire Dog, Cheyenne

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