Sheltered from the wind

Experience follows intention. Wherever we are, whatever we do, all we need to do is recognize our thoughts, feelings, perceptions as something natural. Neither rejecting or accepting, we simply acknowledge the experience and let it pass. If we keep this up, we’ll eventually find ourselves becoming able to manage situations we once found painful, scary or sad. We’ll discover a sense of confidence that isn’t rooted in arrogance or pride. We’ll realize that we are always sheltered, always safe and always home.

Yongey Mingyur Rinpoche, The Joy of Living

The solution is within

When we’re disappointed or frustrated, when we’re in pain or when our day’s not going well, our tendency is to search for an object of blame. Our mantra becomes, “If only something were different, I wouldn’t be having this problem.” Blame is tricky. By trying to find someone else who’s at fault, we’re failing to deal with our own mind. Instead of looking inward, or taking a big view and seeing the transparency of the whole situation, we vent. “If only the driver in front of me had been going faster, I wouldn’t be late for work.” “If only someone else had cleaned the kitchen, I would be watching my favorite TV show instead of mopping this floor.” Even if we find someone we can logically blame for our pain, conducting our life in this way does not provide genuine relief. Blaming just lays the ground for further suffering and discontent.

From a meditator’s point of view, as long as we’re looking for someone to blame, our mind is unable to settle. Blame is a form of aggression.  The meditation path encourages us to be bigger, more openminded, more mature. It’s suggesting that we take responsibility for our behavior. This means that one day we will simply have to stop blaming the world. By blaming others when the world doesn’t move the way we want, we’re creating narrow parameters into which everything must fit. We become dead-set on what will solve our problem; nothing else will do. Blame ties us to the past and reduces who we are. Our possibilities become confined to one small situation. What is that path of blame going to accomplish?

Sakyong Mipham Rinpoche, End Blame

The child’s energy

We need to rediscover the energy that was in us as a child, before we got caught up in our roles and masks. This freedom,  that comes from deep within, is needed to cross the obstacles that face us and overcome the limitations which our fears impose upon us.  We sometimes have to dare to reach out. If not, we stay trapped where we are, divided,  unable to reach beyond the hurt or the problem we find ourselves in.

As once the winged energy of delight
carried you over childhood’s dark abysses,
now beyond your own life build the great
arch of unimagined bridges.

Rilke

Celebrate life: Jump in rain puddles – Christina Taylor Green

The little girl Christina Taylor Green who was killed in the Arizona Shootings last weekend was born on  September 11th, 2001. Along with other babies born on that day, she was featured in a book called “Faces of Hope.”  In it we see a photo of her, with, on either side, simple wishes for a child’s life. She expresses the wish,  “I hope you jump in rain puddles.It is a lovely thought, made all the more poignant by the tragic nature of her passing.

This probably would not be my normal response when coming across a puddle on the path. “Jump in, splash around“? My sensible mind would protest: “It would ruin my shoes. People will be watching. I would look daft”. We have a sense of  wonder and adventure in us as children before we cover it over as we “mature” and divide ourselves into what is seen and what we keep to ourselves. Somewhere along the way to adulthood we learn to hide ourselves, to appear reasonable, not spontaneous, to prefer order and routine to surprise. We become preoccupied the day-to-day problems of our lives and set out in the morning with a set of implicit or explicit goals. When the unexpected happens, like snow or rain puddles, it is seen as an inconvenience or a detour.  We get so goal-orientated, as if everything has to be won, that we do not see the fun that can be had in simply playing the game. Things can become difficulties or obstacles and not opportunities for play and spontaneity. We even can treat our recreation or sport as something to be “done”, serving some other aim.  It is as if being surprised or spontaneous is dangerous or makes us weak. We mask our sense of play out of fear of being judged as immature or too emotional.

Keeping the heart open with the eyes of a child is the key:  Enlarging our vision of all the  things that happen in the day- for surprise and for wonder –  even  the things we see a thousand times. And then giving voice to that sense of astonishment. To jump into the things that life brings, without holding back.  To be open to all, even that which we would prefer to avoid. The gospel tells us that the kingdom of heaven – the fulness of life –  belongs to those who welcome it like children. The shortness of little Christina’s life reminds me not to let life pass me by, to let go of those things which block my heart, to see things and people as if for the first time, to stop dwelling in the hurts of the past or the schemes of the future and to see wonder now.

We inhabit ourselves without valuing ourselves, unable to see that here, now, this very moment is sacred; but once it’s gone – its value is incontestable.

Joyce Carol Oates

Keeping the heart soft

It is not easy to keep ones heart open in every circumstance. Each day we can have experiences with people who cause us to become anxious or afraid; at other times we protect ourselves by becoming angry, or blaming others. We throw up walls and barriers because of our deep fear of being hurt. And if we want to, we can allow these walls remain for weeks, months or even years, as something inside us closes down and we withdraw. It is natural to contract from frightening events, and at times we cannot see all the reasons why something or someone bothers us. The first response therefore can be sometimes instinctive and unconscious, or based on schemas which are below our awareness.

However, as the previous post reminds us, underneath the fears there is something deep and warm in all living things. We all dream about love and belonging, and, in reality, they are never far away. It is our fears which make us doubt. Living a full life means trying to act in accord with our deep capacity for loving and tenderness even  at those moments when our instinct is to shut down  and we can get stuck.  Sure,  we may wonder about this,  when we struggle  or search for some meaning to this life. However, beneath the surface of our fears, goodness and tenderness is always slowly coming into being. We all need to remind ourselves every day to  trust in this deeper reality.

We have a choice. Often our first thought is to withdraw. But if we can recognize that movement, acknowledge it and not necessarily identify with it, our heart can soften.  Often getting unstuck means that we can stay with the anxiety which arises, fuelled by  energies and memories beneath our conscious awareness. If we can do this, what we see is that there is a link between being kind and our ongoing happiness. Our practice helps us keep the heart open and stop the process of fear from becoming too fixed. Sometimes this is easier said than done. But even when my first reaction is fear, and I forget the soft place within the heart, what I find  is that I recover quicker and remember sooner, and am better able to leave the sadness of such occasions simply be sadness. I do not need to blame or withdraw more. I can trust in the deep goodness in myself and others. Sadness might remain, but without giving in to judgment or recriminations, the mind  is free to allow space for new possibilities to come to birth.

We can let the circumstances of our lives harden us so that we become increasingly resentful and afraid, or we can let them soften us and make us kinder and more open to what scares us. We always have this choice.

Pema Chodron

When disappointment is good

That’s the magic moment-when we realize that searching outside of ourselves is not the way. At first it dawns on us just a little bit. And it gets clearer over time, as we continue to suffer. See, anything that we search for is going to disappoint us. Because there are no perfect beings, perfect jobs, perfect places to live. So the search ends exactly in one place, which is… disappointment. A good place. If we have any brains at all, it finally dawns on us: ‘I’ve done this before.’ and we begin to see that it isn’t the searching that’s at fault, but something about where we look. And we return more and more to the disappointment, which is always at the center.

The very peace we’ve been searching for so hard lies in recognizing this fact: I’m pinching myself. No one’s doing it to me. So the whole search begins to be abandoned and instead of searching, we begin to to see that practice isn’t a search. Practice is to be with that which motivates the search, which is unease, distress. And this is the turning around.

Charlotte Joko Beck, Everyday Zen