July 9, 2008
Patience and Practice
People tell me that they don't have patience. What does that mean? Are you patient?
I'm patient when I'm on the freeway, unless I am late for something. I'm patient with my kids, unless I am trying to focus on something. I'm patient with my friends, unless they push my buttons. I'm patient with my cat, except at 4am when she is meowing in my ear.
ZenHabits has a post on how to become patient. He lists many tools for fending off frustration. Does the practice of counting, breathing, and other stress-relievers actually increase our patience? Or do they distract us? After time, do we start to become naturally more patient because we see how we don't have to be impatient for things to happen?
When we sit in Zazen, we are practicing patience, in many forms. Zen, in general, is a practice in patience. Yet, patience has this mysterious quality that you can't put your finger on, or fix. Perhaps, part of being patient is accepting that, sometimes, we're not.
May 4, 2008
Monkeys and Coconuts: Zen Buddhist Non-Attachment
Monkeys and Coconuts
Monkeys can help us find peace.
Madame Toastmaster, and Fellow Toastmasters,
Buddhism, and in particular Zen Buddhism, is known as a religion of peace. Many don't consider it a religion at all, but rather a philosophy.
The philosophy of Zen Buddhism is, at its essence, a search for the reduction of suffering. If one is able to completely remove suffering, he has attained Nirvana, or Enlightenment.
One of the traveling companions on the path to enlightenment is non-attachment. This is what we'll be talking about today.
Image this morning, you walked out of your house, and your car was not in the driveway. Imagine another scenario where someone you know, or someone on TV, insulted something you liked, such as a sports team or a political party. Now imagine an argument or discussion you had, and you couldn't stop thinking about it for days afterwards.
In all of these scenarios, we're suffering. According to Zen Buddhism, the reason we are suffering is attachment.
In the first case, we are attached to things, in the second, we are attached to feelings, and the third, our opinions and wanting to be right.
The more we are attached, the more we suffer.
There is a Zen story that perfectly illustrates this point.
In SouthEast Asia, hunters have an ingenious way of trapping monkeys. They take a coconut, and carve a hole in the top, and take out the insides of the coconut. Then, they place a tasty, sweet morsel, such as a piece of fruit, inside the coconut. They take this coconut, and put it up in a tree in such a way that it cannot be dislodged. A monkey comes along, sees the tasty morsel, and reaches its hand in through the small hole. When he grabs the food, his hand turns into a fist, and he can't get his hand out of the coconut. The monkey is not willing to let go of the sweet thing, and the hunter catches him.
We are the monkeys, holding on to our stuff, our feelings, our opinions, and we can't let go of them. Even when we are stuck, and we have our fist lodged in a coconut, and we can SEE how much it's hurting us, we can't let go.
The solution to this problem, according to Zen Buddhism, is non-attachment.
How do we achieve non-attachment? The way a Zen Buddhist practices this is to meditate. It's why they meditate so much!
First, meditation brings us into the now. Now is the only time. Now is when things happen. The past and future are only constructs of our mind. When we are in the now, we can't have attachments. Attachments are in the past and the future. In the now, the past and future do not matter. When we are attached to the past, we feel guilt and sorrow, when we are attached to the future, we feel worry and fear. Being in the now keeps us from being attached to the past and future.
Secondly, Zen Buddhists believe that nothing in the universe is intrinsically "good" and "bad". Good and bad are judgements that the human mind places on things. By being in the now, we can remove our judgements of things. When we have no judgements, we have no attachments.
The Buddha said, "Never have anything to do with likes and dislikes. The absence of what one likes is painful, as is the presence of what one dislikes. Therefore, don't take a liking to anything."
So what does this mean? Is the Buddha teaching us to walk around as zen zombies, uncaring and indifferent to everything?
Ajahn Sumedho, author of "Teaching of a Buddhist Monk", shares a story about non-attachment and enjoying life.
(Note: I summarized his story for the speech. This is my summary, not a direct quote.)
There is a fire burning in front of us. It's beautiful. With red, yellow, white. And it's warm. We like it, so we reach out to hold it. And what happens? It burns us. We pull our hands away, because when we reached out to hold it, it burned us. Does this mean we hate the fire and want to put it out? No. Instead, we learned to sit back and enjoy its warmth from a distance, and enjoy its colors in front of us. We can appreciate and love the fire without holding on to it.
That is the Zen concept of non-attachement, and how we can live in our world, appreciate and love everything, yet not be attached to it all.
Now, becoming enlightened is a difficult task. Very few people have ever achieved that. And the odds of any of us in this room reaching true enlightenment is pretty low. However, maybe Buddha has a good point.
Maybe the road to peace is as simple as sitting still, letting go, being in the now, breathing....and thinking about fire, monkeys, and coconuts.
April 25, 2008
Forgiving in Advance
Zen study, as well as life experience, have helped me grow into a more forgiving person. I can see now how things that happened many years ago can trap me in the past, if I don't forgive. Forgiving is for myself, not for the other person, although it can repair relationships. Forgiving is not giving in, it is being strong. The weaker response is to hold on to grudges.
It's helped me in my parenting, and I hope my hubby would say, it's helped me in my marriage. Things I used to hold on to, and would create accumulated pain, don't effect me as much. I'm living much more in the moment. When problems arise, I can, although imperfectly, see how unfair it is to tie things in the far past into the now. Children who are growing and changing at lightening speeds make holding grudges nearly impossible. How silly it is to chastise a ten year old for how he behaved when he was five.
It's a window that gets smaller and smaller, as I learn to forgive things more quickly. The more practice I have in forgiving, the easier it comes.
What if, I could forgive at the very moment of a wrong-doing? What if I could forgive my children and my hubby at the moment that they do something I deem is painful, frustrating, or just plain wrong? Can I make the window that small?
And, is it possible, to go even farther, and to forgive before the wrong-doing even occurs? Is it possible to forgive in advance?
How freeing that would be, to forgive everyone in advance, so when things happen, I've already let go of the baggage that increases pain and suffering.
That will be my zen focus for this weekend: forgiving all the past, forgiving in the present, and forgiving in advance.
April 2, 2008
Making Room for Little Deaths
On Easter Sunday, I went to church. Sounds pretty banal, except, that I'm not religious, nor do I celebrate Easter. At least, not in the conventional sense. I celebrate it because it's a convenient opportunity to be together with the people I love, enjoying life, and sharing experiences. Not in many years have I ever wanted to go to church on Easter morning.
This year, I had an overwhelming urge to go to church and hear about Easter. The church I go to doesn't have bibles, and many of the people in the congregation don't even believe in God. Yet, up there in front of us, was a reverend, who spoke to us about the bible, about religion, and about Easter. My daughter came with me, too. And because of her, not only did I go to church, but I sat in the front row.
There's something really satisfying about sitting in front of someone who is talking to a group, but it feels like that person is talking to me, alone. On Easter Sunday, the reverend talked about the resurrection, and little deaths.
Every moment of our lives, we are experiencing little deaths. I have to admit, when I first heard him use this expression, I initially thought of "la petite mort," which, in French, would be a far cry from anything a reverend would talk about in church, let alone on Easter. What he was referring to, however, was the concept that whenever we experience a revelation, deal with a crisis, or have any kind of experience that impacts our psyche, we leave behind the old version of ourselves, and re-emerge as someone slightly, or significantly, different. We've experienced a little death.
In Zen Buddhism, we study and think about death a lot. Not in a morbid way, but in a "what are we so afraid of?" kind of way. The reason we shouldn't be afraid, is because we are always dying. And we are always being reborn. Each moment we leave behind, is the death of that moment, of that person we were a moment ago. As we approach each new moment, we are being reborn again, and we are brand new person. If we look at our bodies, our cells are constantly dying and being replaced by other cells. The body that we had 10 years ago cannot be found anywhere in the body that we have today. One could say that the person we were 10 years ago is physically dead, and we have been reborn.
This can happen to our psyche, or soul, or whatever word we want to use for it. Some would call it growing. What we do when we grow, is that we transform, and we become a slightly different and new person than we were before. The reverend at my church called these "little deaths". And to him, that is what the Resurrection symbolizes - the opportunities we have in our daily lives to die and be reborn into a new plane of understanding and living.
I suppose, this is another way to say, "put the past behind us." It's not just that, though. It's also accepting the reality of having to actually go through the "little death" to get through to the other side, and be reborn. If we continually try to keep the little deaths away, we can't become the new person that this experience can create in us.
The reverend gave an example of two women who had lost their husbands around the same time many years ago, at another church where he used to work. One woman was the model of control. People were in awe of how well she was able to keep it together, and go about her life without much disruption. The second woman, she lost it. She cried all the time, and her life fell apart. It was the most difficult time in her life.
A year later, the first woman cracked, and had to be admitted to a psychiatric ward. The second, got through her pain, and emerged through to the other side a different person. She had accepted her little death, and had been reborn. The first woman fought her little death, and ended up in living purgatory.
I wonder if this is what the original writers of the bible had in mind when they wrote about Jesus' resurrection. Was it an allegory for how when we accept the worst, and live through the pain of being metaphorically crucified, we then can come out from behind the stone and walk away into another plane of existence? Is purgatory really a metaphor to the place we put ourselves in our lives when we hold on the person we used to be even in the face of obvious change and life challenges?
January 30, 2008
Zen Podcasts
Oh, and he also had some great observations about emotions and judgment, and what it means to be "zen". What does it look like to be "zen". I don't know. After his lecture, I still don't know. But I feel better about knowing, because that's the point.
January 20, 2008
Criticism and Correction
What about criticism and correction? Does it have any place in "right speech"?
I was thinking about this yesterday as I started reading Dave Carnegie's How to Make Friends and Influence People. I picked up the book at the library last week while doing some research on passive-aggressive behavior. I've heard quite a bit about the book (mostly in the form of jokes about the title), and was curious.
So I started reading it last night, and the first precept is "Don't criticize, condemn or complain."
It sounded very Zen.
His reasons were logical; people don't react well to criticism, people don't change their behavior after being criticized (except to avoid criticism later), and people trust us less when we criticize often. Makes sense.
But is it practical? Can we go through life without criticizing or correcting, especially as parents? Is there another way to express our desires without that?
Passive-aggressives are very good at finding fault in others, while hiding from their own faults. Is finding fault in others universally problematic?
Do you know anyone who criticizes, yet is still well-liked and makes friends easily? A friend of mine once said, "It's not the people who like the things we do who are our friends, but the people who hate the same things we do."
Dale Carnegie uses Abraham Lincoln as his running example of a man who chose not to criticize. Can we all be like Abraham Lincoln? Or would Lincoln crash and burn in today's world of critical media and our society's lust for drama?
January 14, 2008
Dealing With Passive-aggressive People
Passive-aggressive people are untouchable. They never apologize, they don't take responsibility for their behavior, they complain that other people don't live up to their expectations, and they avoid facing hard truths, especially when it means they have to look at themselves. Oh, and when they hurt others, they turn it around so it's always the other person's fault and they deserved it.
We all show p/a behaviors from time to time. Nobody's perfect. But people who live their life this way are so tiring to be around. I am able to "feel" people's emotions and attitudes pretty clearly. P/a people "feel" different than they are acting. They act so strong and confident, when inside they are so incredibly fearful. I don't know which version of them to respond to. The surface acting or the true person who is hiding.
Most people who are p/a, I have to distance myself from them and basically ignore. I can't get involved with those kinds of people. But there are people in my life who are like this and I am not able to walk away from due to circumstances. I'm sure a lot of people have this same experience, with p/a people in their families or at work.
P/a people have friends and loved-ones who don't seem to be bothered by their behavior. How do they deal with it? How can anyone be close to someone like that? I'm baffled.
So, I'm going along, trying to learn how to deal with the people in my life who act passively and yet are aggressive underneath.
Perhaps the first thing I need to do is let go of any desire to get their approval. It's not going to happen. They complain about everyone (except those who they are in complete awe of or who they seek their approval), so I'm going to be one of those people they complain about.
Perhaps I also need to let go of the idea that having any kind of "real" relationship with them is necessary. I'm naturally a "connect with the universe" kind of person. But they are sending a clear message to the universe, "Do not try to connect with me unless I invite you in." Perhaps if I let go of my attachment to being "real" about things, I can deal better with them.
Perhaps I also need to let the universe, or karma, take care of it. There are a lot of things I can change, but p/a behavior is not one of those things. I need to let these people make their own choices, absent of my judgment of them, and then let the universe and karma take care of it. In the big scheme of things, it doesn't matter if that one person is p/a.
Lastly, focusing on my own behavior is key. P/a behavior is a way to control a situation or person. Instead of trying to defend myself from their p/a attacks or clarify my position, I can simply do what needs to be done, focus on keeping my own integrity intact, and move on. I have no power to change the other person. I can only affect my own behavior. And when I focus on my own behavior, I can't be controlled.
I think it p/a behavior boils down to a fear of intimacy. And since I'm naturally an intimate person (perhaps to a fault), if a person acts the act of what intimacy looks like, but who is actually creating as much distance as possible, it makes me agitated.
It's my choice whether to allow them to continue agitating me, or to let it go. I will practice letting go, and see if I can make it a habit, or at least be conscious that I have a choice.
Do you know any passive-aggressive people? How do you handle them?