Appreciate the goodness within

When you relax more and appreciate your body and mind, you begin to contact the fundamental notion of basic goodness in yourself. So it is extremely important to be willing to open yourself to yourself. Developing tenderness towards yourself allows you to see both your problems and your potential accurately. You don’t feel that you have to ignore your problems or exaggerate your potential. That kind of gentleness towards yourself and appreciation of yourself is very necessary. It provides the ground for helping yourself and others.

Chogyam Trungpa, Shambhala: Sacred Path of the Warrior

…And seeing problems as openings

A hugely important distinction is made here, one which saves us from the deep tendency we have to find problems with who or where we are. It allows for a much more nuanced view on the setbacks we find in life and in our inner selves, seeing that growth often happens in roundabout ways. 

Another problem with the idea of self-improvement is that it implies that there is something wrong with who we are. Everyone wants to be someone else, but getting to know yourself and love yourself means accepting who you are, complete with your inadequacies and irrationalities. Only by loving he soul in its entirety can we really love ourselves. This does not mean that we cannot hope to live a fuller life or become a better person, but there is a difference between self-improvement and the unfolding of the soul.  In the latter we don’t take the attitude of perfection; rather we draw close to those things that we feel as imperfect and let them be the openings through which the potentiality of the soul enters into life.

Thomas Moore, Soul Mates

And letting go of our habitual fears

The sense of splendidness arises from feeling our wealth. We have confidence in our inherent goodness — the beating heart of each individual and all humanity… The energy of splendidness comes from being fully present in whatever we do. My father, Chögyam Trungpa,  put it this way: “You are not hiding anywhere.” Hiding means our splendidness is obscured by embedded habitual patterns. One characteristic of hiding is that we are always self-observing. Self-observing comes from not trusting our inherent goodness, and therefore keeping the reins tight on our mind. It is different from awareness or introspection because in observing ourselves this way, we are not really sensing or feeling the moment. We lack the lucidity to simply be splendid, so we tighten up and hide. We have half-thoughts and half-emotions. When we do experience something wholly and completely, it is disconcerting and disorienting.

Sakyong Mipham Rinpoche, Let it Shine!

What makes our roots strong

Challenges develop fortitude and strength…One of the biggest problems for astronauts living in space is the loss of bone mass due to zero-gravity. With no gravity to resist the astronauts become weaker. In the biological big-bubble experiment  known as Biosphere 2, the trees eventually had to be attached by cables to the framework above. This is because there was no wind in the Biosphere , and with nothing to resist the trees became weak and needed support. Similarly, without something to work against – without situations of some gravity – our body and mind begin to atrophy. We need something to press against in life in order to stay strong and grow.

Andrew Holecek, The Power and the Pain: Transforming Spiritual Hardship into Joy

Protection schemes

It’s important to recognize that all the emotional and psychological wounding we carry with us from the past is relational in nature: It has to do with not feeling fully loved. And it happened in our earliest relationships — with our caretakers — when our brain and body were totally soft and impressionable. As a result, the ego’s relational patterns have largely developed as protection schemes to insulate us from the vulnerable openness that love entails. In relationship the ego acts as a survival mechanism for getting needs met while fending off the threat of being hurt, manipulated, controlled, rejected, or abandoned in ways we were as a child. This is normal and totally understandable. Yet if it’s the main tenor of a relationship, it keeps us locked into complex strategies of defensiveness and control that undermine the possibility of deeper connection. Thus to gain greater access to the gold of our nature in relationship, a certain alchemy is required: the refining of our conditioned defensive patterns.

John Welwood, Intimate Relationship as a Spiritual Crucible 

What holds us back

Just as a snake sheds its skin, so we should shed our past, over and over again.  The Buddha

Today is Ash Wednesday, traditionally the start of Lent – the season of preparation for Easter  The word “Lent” comes from the Anglo-Saxon word “lencten”,  referring to the lengthening of days in the Spring, thus placing the period in the context of growth and life. Lent became a time of reflection on freedom, seeing what the priorities in our life are and what needs to be let go of. As in other wisdom traditions,  it offers us a moment to enlarge our sense of things and go against the ways in which an unreflected life actually shrinks our heart. It reminds us to examine what is not essential, including the stories and habits which we have adopted over the years and which we come to see as fundamental to who we are.  It is an intensification of an insight that we see in our daily practice, namely,  that all things arise and pass away,  all things are impermanent.  So today, just as we begin to see Nature changing in the signs of Spring and new life, we try to internalize the understanding that we too are continually changing. This may mean that we need to let go of some elements of the past – which anyway is not happening any more except in the mind – in order for us to engage more fully with life in the present, in this moment.  It could be that we shed some aspects of what we hold as our solid self, and rather see  that we are more like a succession of selves.  Happiness in life comes not from holding onto the past but by living in the present with appreciation.

Detachment resembles the shedding of a number of coats of skin, until our senses are sharpened, or until “our inner vision becomes keen”. When we learn what to let go of, we also learn what is worth holding on to. Think of it in this way: it is simply not possible to share something precious or even to hold a lover’s hand, when we keep our fists clenched, holding tightly onto something. Detachment is not the inability to focus on things, material or other. It is the capacity to focus on all things, material and other, without attachment. It is primarily something spiritual; it is an attitude of life. And in this respect, detachment is ongoing, requiring continual refinement.

John Chryssavgis, In the Heart of the Desert