Having trouble viewing the closed caption version? An un-captioned version can be found here:
Life is full of everyday irritations and worse: judgments, criticisms, and dismissing people because they act or look a certain way. Sometimes this is actually appropriate–people can be rude or out of line or domineering–but sometimes we have missed a step, a way of looking at things that can help us soften toward what offends us. Before today’s practice, I tell you a little story about a different way of approaching such things.This way is not only a way of being kinder to others, it is a way of being kinder to yourself because when you are able to let judgment go, you soften. And softening always makes you feels better…
Thoughts? I always love to hear them. With love, Susan
Audio-only version can be downloaded here.
SPECIAL NOTE ABOUT AN EXCITING DEVELOPMENT IN THE OHP VIDEOS! You will notice something different about today’s video: it is close captioned for the hearing impaired. A member of our wonderful community suggested that I do this to make it easier for those who can’t hear to meditate. I loooved that idea! Today, we begin. Although we can’t close caption every video (which requires transcription, word for word), my beautiful assistant Michele will close caption one video per month, on the first Monday of that month. Hopefully we will develop the resources at some point to close caption every video, but for now we’re deeply happy to offer one such meditation per month. May it bring benefit to that community.
Nothing feels worse than a broken heart, the kind you get when someone you love ends the relationship. Feelings of shame, remorse, grief, rage, and terror can overwhelm even the most stable human being. Heartbreak has the power to reframe a workable life as a disaster.
Surprisingly, Buddhism has a tremendous amount of helpful advice for working with these terrible girl/boy-loses-boy/girl emotions. It takes an approach that is quite different than the usual advice books, which basically fall into one of two categories:
The first category is called “You Go Girl!!” (Sorry guys, all the books are aimed at women.) This kind of book suggests that you need to up the cocktails:sobbing ratio, and if you go out with your friends who tell you that you were just too awesome for him/her, get a cute outfit and a new ‘do, and cry on as many shoulders as possible, you can dance your troubles away.
I don’t think this is bad advice. Hey! You are awesome! You can look super hot! You have great friends who remind you how to have fun! This is all cool. It won’t, however, do much to alleviate the pain, beyond stuffing it for a few hours.
The second category is called “There is something very, very wrong with you and you made this happen.” This is the kind of book that says you brought this heartbreak on yourself by carrying forward unhealed wounds from childhood or, god forbid, by thinking the wrong thoughts. I kind of hate this. Of course it’s really, really important to heal your wounds and to examine your thoughts to see if they might be sabotaging you—but when the intention for doing so is to avoid pain rather than increase your capacity to love, it is unlikely to heal you. This kind of advice is often out to convince you that you can make love safe.
Love can never be made safe. It is the opposite of safe. The moment you try to make it safe, it ceases to be love.
Love is predicated on receptivity, on opening up again and again and again to your beloved. To do this, a continual letting go is required and when it comes to our greatest vulnerability (love), the last thing we want to do is give up the protection of our ideas about love.
Most often, the efforts to heal a broken heart center around putting it behind you and recreating the illusion of safety. Buddhism counsels something else, something best said by the American Buddhist nun, Pema Chodron: “Feel the feelings. Drop the story.” That is the pith advice and it means turning toward what you feel, not away. It means letting the feelings be just what they are without trying to explain them, shore your self up, or excuse or blame anyone. This is called being a warrior. The more you allow feelings to burn clean in this way, the less confusion you create.
I have three suggestions for figuring out how to accomplish this very mysterious feat of feeling without attaching a narrative as to what it might, could, should, or dare not mean.
1. Develop a non-judgmental relationship with your mind. This is best done through the practice of meditation. When you’re under the sway of strong emotion, you come into contact with a state of being that I like to call Insane Obsessive Thinking. If only, I should have, what I really meant was, how dare she, I am a loser, you are a loser, love stinks… On and on and on. It’s really quite painful. Without addressing a mind run amuck, the chances of skillfully working with your feelings is kind of limited. So I suggest introducing a note of discipline to your everyday life, by spending some time every day, not squashing your icky thoughts and promoting your good ones, but simply watching your mind in a relaxed way—no matter how wild it gets, you can remain steady. This is what meditation teaches you how to do.
The mind of heartbreak is like a wild horse. You can’t just jump on and expect to ride. It will throw you again and again. So instead you hang around for a while until a sense of trust develops. Meditation teaches you how to do this, too.
2. Stabilize your heart in the open state. When you regain some sense of dominion in your own mind, naturally your attention will turn toward that raging, screaming, searing thing in the middle of your chest—your heart.
One way to look at heartbreak is as love unbound from an object. Freed, it careens and ricochets and crashes into walls. Your capacity and longing for love is enormous and when you lose it, this is what you discover. You had no idea you could feel this raw, vulnerable, open…and it’s the openness that is so precious.
Buddhism does not counsel closing back up, not at all. Instead, in recognition that this openness is the ground of loving kindness, compassion, and the ability to connect deeply, it suggests you leave it broken and seek to stabilize it in the open state. Yes, leave it broken. The way to do this and not walk around sobbing all the time is through the practice of Loving Kindness meditation, which you can find here. In this way, you begin to shift your search for love a tiny bit, away from “I want to find someone to love me” and toward “I want to find a way to give love.” With this slight transition, the whole world changes.
When most people say they are looking for love, what they means is they are looking for someone to love them, and then they will return it. But you can turn this equation on its head entirely and have love in your life every single day by choosing to give it. This, by the way—giving love to others—is the secret, guaranteed, no fail way to heal your broken heart. Try it.
3. View your whole life as path. With a sense of clarity in your mind and stability in your heart, the third stage becomes something altogether different. There is no practice associated with this one. With mental clarity and emotional stability comes the ability to see your entire life as path. You have created the foundation for an entirely authentic life, one full of joy and sorrow, meetings and partings, giving and taking, and deep meaning. The dark power of heartbreak has led you there.
With this openness, you see that your life is telling a story. I have no idea what it is and you may not either. But trust me, your life has a life of its own and the violence of heartbreak has the power to shatter all illusions about who you thought you were and reintroduce you instead to who you really are. This is an extremely powerful situation.
With a broken heart, you see how vast your longing for love is and how impossible it is to make love safe. It’s just not possible. So what do you do with these two truths? This is your path. No one can tell you how to reconcile them. The place to begin is by paying attention, by cultivating agenda-less awareness of yourself, others, and of the flow of life. When you do so, you start to notice that every single day, you are continuously cycling in and out of moments of falling in love and having your heart broken. Both are always present, shifting toward you and away, each one a tiny lesson on how to be fully alive.
Please join me on May 20 for a six week eCourse based on my book, “The Wisdom of a Broken Heart” which has helped thousands of people come to terms with this devastating experience to rediscover joy and vitality.
In the program, I will teach you about each of the steps mentioned above, we will have meaningful conversation, exercises, and a chance to connect with others who are experiencing what you are. We will meet for 6 Tuesdays from 7:30p-9p. All sessions will be recorded for those who cannot make it live.
I can’t say that by the end of the six weeks, you will be completely “over” it. But I believe you will find greater stability and be less at the mercy of your sorrow. You will learn how to ride the waves of grief and recover your ability to love.
Bring your questions. Bring your doubts. Bring your heart.
$108 for six weeks; includes six class recordings to refer to again and again.
This past Valentine’s Day, I launched a program called the “21-Day Open Heart Immersion: Live in Love.” I received this message (from a stranger) via email:
With all due respect, I think that the global consciousness is in a state of a major shift and it has a lot to do with people like you helping to spread the world and enlighten people on a large scale.
I admire the spiritual community in helping humanity evolve into who we truly were meant to be, however I find that many “teachers” are taking advantage of peoples hunger for growth and spiritual enlightenment to make more than just a living with the substantial cost involved in either participating in a spiritual retreat or otherwise simply taking an e course such as yours. There are many people who simply cannot afford the $300 plus that it costs to take your course for example and so it seems that spiritual enlightenment is left mostly for those who have the means to afford it and leaves a substantial amount of humans behind which seems very contradictory to what most spiritual teachers are preaching about how we are all one and we need to open our hearts to love etc….. I often find myself seeking more and more information and find the cost of seminar or a course to be out of reach monetarily to many many people which defeats the very purpose these teachers are out to accomplish. I understand that there are costs involved in setting up and teachers need to be compensated for their time but on the other hand, sharing this information is almost a responsibility given from the divine to spread to humanity to make this world a better place and the excessive cost being charged seems contradictory to any and all spiritual principles.
I was just wondering what your take on this is.
Thank you, Blank
How would you have responded?
My initial response was to become enraged in a deeply un-spiritual manner. The following went through my mind: Why does she pretend to flatter me and then accuse me of being greedy and disingenuous? What is this “spiritual community?” Does this person know that I offer free meditation instruction to nearly 12000 people via video twice a week—and have been doing so for three years? When did I ever preach that “we are all one?” Why is she passing judgment on me? She has no idea who I am or what my life is like.
Anyone who blogs and teaches knows that this kind of judgment-bomb can land in your inbox at any time and we have several choices about how to respond:
2. Respond politely with appreciation for her comment but offer no real response
3. School (as in “She tried to school me. I tried to school her back”).
A sensible person would have chosen #1. A kind person would chosen #2. I chose #3.
I’m not sure if you are actually interested in my take on these points or if you want me to hear your ideas of what my responsibilities should be and the suggestion that perhaps I am taking advantage of others.
If the former, I need to earn an income and it is up to me how I choose to do so. If the latter, duly noted.
In either case, I wish you the best in finding the information you seek.
Thank you, Susan
Not exactly scathing, but not softly “spiritual” either, whatever that is.
Herein lies the dilemma. How does a “spiritual” person conduct herself in a world where dharma and commerce intermingle? Where anyone who has a judgment of you can share that judgment at a moment of his or her choosing? And anyway, aren’t spiritual people supposed to be peaceful zombies who are inured to anger and hurt feelings? If they aren’t, shouldn’t they at least pretend to be?
Blank-ess brought up a question that has been contested for millennia. Those of us who teach and write on spiritual matters will encounter it at some point in our lives: Should this be free? If so, how will I live? If not, what do I charge and how do I relate to money altogether?
Again, there are choices. Many choices. With great difficulty, I’ve narrowed it down to six.
1. I am a child of the universe and trust that I will be taken care of if I offer to support sentient beings.
2. What I have to offer is of inestimable value and I deserve to be paid handsomely because I know how life-changing it is. (And it is.) Plus, isn’t making money a sign of success and shouldn’t spiritual teachings be associated with power?
3. Hmmm. These teachings are very profound. Too profound, actually—no one will understand them. What harm is there in expressing them in a way that people can access easily (i.e. minus the difficult bits)? If I fit my message into the current conversation, I can probably make my mark as well as some money.
4. Actually, the teachings are simply too deep and sophisticated for most people to grasp and I’m not even going to try to offer them widely. I refuse to dumb anything down. I reserve my offerings for the intelligentsia and if they pay me, fine. If not, I’ll stick to my principles and figure something out.
5. What do I know about anything? Not very much, truth be told. I better charge as little as possible so no one can accuse me of being superior or even knowledgeable.
6. I have no earthly idea how to manage all of this, but I better figure it out because this (writing and teaching) is my calling. I have a mortgage and a need for health insurance. Plus, someday I will be truly old (hopefully) and I don’t want to have to live outside.
Catch my drift? It is complicated.
There are definitely those who think that so-called spiritual teachers should be saintly and poor. There are those who think that the more powerful and wealthy you are, the closer you are to divinity. Who knows, maybe one of those is true. All I can do with this issue is what I try to do with every issue I encounter: bring it to the path by not attaching to a fixed answer.
I could feel my conflicts and discomfort about money with gentleness and precision—but not as a basis for action.
Ride the waves of self-preservation-related fears, shame at not having enough, and contemplate my supposition that wealth will make me safe.
Examine over and over how this fear and shame might make me do stupid things that are harmful to self and other and avoid said stupidity.
Most important, see how both my confusion and my wisdom can be offered to benefit sentient beings. Watch it all cycle and cycle and in each and every case, let go and keep letting go. Commit again and again to the middle way.
A few years ago, I traveled across the country giving talks based on my book, “The Wisdom of a Broken Heart.” It was an amazing experience. I drove from Boston to Victoria, BC and back, giving talk after talk, hearing story after story, meeting person after heartbroken person who was seeking some way, any way, to mitigate this astonishing pain.
Marilyn came home from a business trip to find that her love of eight years had moved out and taken the cat.
Carlene and her boyfriend were going around with their realtor looking for a house. The next week he sent her an email notifying her that he was in love with someone else.
Dan sold his house and was packing up to move from Texas to California to live with his boyfriend—only to receive a call telling him to unpack because he decided he wasn’t ready for a long term relationship.
These kinds of things happen every day—and every day they leave someone’s life in complete freefall. Heartbreak from lost love is one of the worst things that can happen to a person. The pain takes you by complete surprise.
Who knew anything could be this painful?
When a relationship ends, it is always sad but after a few weeks, months, years, most people pick themselves up and move on. But there are some endings from which it seems impossible to move on and life falls apart.
When it happened to me (in the most prosaic way imaginable—my boyfriend fell in love with someone else), my world went to pieces. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep. I could barely leave the house. The thought of him with her literally made we want to vomit. For two years.
Of course there are countless ways to get your heart broken. People we love become ill. The job we wanted so desperately goes to someone else. We run out of money and have to move somewhere we don’t like. These are all very real sources of pain, but the sorrow of lost love feels different. Not better, not worse, just different. It has attributes that don’t seem to go with the other forms of sorrow.
The first one is called shame. Mind-numbing, life-destroying shame. No matter how many times you tell yourself it’s not true, a desperate sense of ugliness and undesirability arises.
The second quality is (insane) moodiness. You just don’t know when the waves of grief and humiliation will re-arise. I remember once I burst into tears over a basket of jalapeño corn bread because it made me remember his fondness for hot peppers. I was sitting there minding my own business when suddenly some baked goods destroyed my equanimity. And it’s not just food products that can cause you to fall apart, but songs, movies, overheard conversation, basically anything.
The third quality of romantic heartbreak is a little something I like to call “obsessive thinking.” It can seem as if your own mind is attacking you. From moment to moment, mercilessly, unremittingly, it spews forth with things like this: They are probably laughing at me right now. I hate her/him. No, I love her/him. I will never find love again, this was my last chance. If only I hadn’t said boo or worn boots or chewed gum. I have unhealed wounds from childhood that made this happen. I am such a loser. No, s/he is. F*#k her/him.
It seems hopeless, but it is not. There are actually ways to relate with these very difficult inner states and, perhaps surprisingly, they are rooted in Buddhist teachings that are thousands of years old. These teachings present a third alternative to the options for healing we are usually presented with, which are:
1. Screw it. Go out, have a good time, forget about him/her, he/she didn’t deserve you, he/she just wasn’t that into you, so deal with it. Dance it out, girl. (Sorry, but most of the advice is addressed to women.)
2. There is something very wrong with you. You made this happen because you have carried forward unhealed wounds from childhood. Heal them, sister, or you will “attract” the same treatment over and over until you work it out.
Okay, fine. It can be great to remember that you are awesome and it is also useful to explore your psyche. However, neither of those are about relating with the pain. They are both about getting away from it.
The third option is to stop running, turn around, and look directly at your sorrow. Simply acknowledging and embracing it (without an agenda, simply as a gesture of kindness) has immediate pacifying effect.
There are three things you can do once you begin to develop a relationship with the pain and I found them so helpful I wrote a whole book about them.
1. Reassert dominion over your own mind. Your thoughts will continue to run roughshod unless you develop a kind way of relating with them. In Buddhist tradition this kind way is called meditation. Here, meditation is the simple act of being with yourself as you feel what you feel. This—“being with”—as opposed to “working on” turns out to be a more expeditious way of metabolizing sorrow.
2. View your sorrow as wisdom. I know this sounds crazy because it just feels so bad to be in this much pain. And it is. However, it is there and you might as well try to learn from it.
Here’s the thing about having a broken heart: you can feel everything. Everything. Your pain, your friends’ pain, the pain of people on TV, and also their joy. There is no longer a barrier between your heart and this world. In Buddhist tradition, this is actually the point of spiritual practice—to have a completely open heart. However, the difference between you and me and, say, the Dalai Lama, is that his heart is open and stable while ours is open and, well, out of control.
It is possible to stabilize your heart in the open state and it begins with using all of this emotional energy to give love in every possible way. I know that when you are heartbroken, you need love and may feel that you don’t have a lot to give. However if you begin to turn the tables even a teeny tiny bit from “how will I find love” to “how will I give love” I promise you will be amazed at the power your own loving kindness has to heal you. But don’t take my word for it. Try it. Be kind. Help out. Think kind thoughts. Give something. And report back to me, please.
3. Let your heartbreak transform you into a fierce warrior god/goddess. Okay, now you know the truth: there is no protection from heartbreak. There is nothing you or I can do to banish the possibility. In fact—don’t be bummed out—there is no relationship that will not end in heartbreak. People change. Relationships crater and no one knows why. And, of course, someone is going to die first. I realize this may not sound very soothing…but it is always empowering to recognize the truth. Saul Bellow once said about death, “it is the black backing on the mirror that allows us to see anything at all” and acknowledging impermanence, while making me very pissed off, also conveys the astonishing preciousness of our lives.
At this point you reach a very interesting junction. Are you willing to love anyway now that you know it can never be made safe? If the answer is yes: wow. I want to be in a relationship with you because you are one courageous, daring, and powerful individual who knows what it really means to love.
To learn to meditate: The Open Heart Project
To read more of my thoughts on the wisdom of heartbreak: The Wisdom of a Broken Heart
To dive in and work with the power of love to transform and heal: 21-Day Open Heart Immersion: Live in Love (starts Feb 14).
A new podcast!
As a Buddhist teacher and someone with a lifelong interest in spirituality, I have attended my share of, well, interesting gatherings. From months-long meditation retreats where the vast and profound dharma is practiced, to sweaty evenings of devotional chanting, to workshops on using Sacred Geometry to attract love, to cocktail parties where sage is burned to prevent hangovers, to business meetings about marketing spirituality…I’m pretty sure I’ve seen a lot of what we in the west do to connect with our inner lives.
One concept that seems to come up in every setting is that of “ego.” At meditation retreats, we’re taught that clinging to ego prevents liberation from suffering. Devotional chanting is said to dissolve ego. Ego stands between us and love, causes health problems, and if only we could get past our egos in business, we could sell the crap out of whatever we want. (BTW, I’ve been in more than one business meeting where “let go of your ego” was used to mean, “I think what you just said is stupid and I don’t want to do it.” But I digress.)
Ego, then, is very powerful indeed.
What is it??
As a meditation teacher, I have heard many questions and ideas about ego. As a meditation student, I have my own share of questions and ideas. However, what I notice in both my students and myself is that we wield the notion of ego as a weapon of shame and unworthiness.
If we didn’t have such a big ego, our feelings wouldn’t be hurt by rejection.
We wouldn’t crumble in despair when our plans don’t work out.
We wouldn’t wish to be treated thoughtfully, as important beings who matter; in fact, whether or not we mattered to anyone wouldn’t matter at all if we didn’t have an ego.
When we are yelled at, we would not yell back, we could live without love, and when someone dies, we might suffer, but only reasonably and for a short time.
The truth is, I don’t quite know what ego means. Great sages and adepts have written profound texts and offered powerful practices on the topic and I urge you to explore them. I just know it doesn’t mean anything about you being too full of yourself and undeserving of care. When we use “ego” as a way of making ourselves or others feel bad, a red flag should go up.
Rather than a reminder of our un-deservingness, we could see our ego as that part of ourselves that is most deeply wounded and confused. Ego arises, perhaps, from doubt in our basic goodness rather than misplaced certainty in it.
When we are convinced of our worthiness, there is nothing to prove. When we can rest in our true nature, there is no unrest. When we know that all beings are similarly good at the core, we construct our lives to invite rather than defend.
In this sense, ego is evidence of our fragility. Rather than trying to root it out to become good boys and girls who have no desires or preferences, we could hold it in the cradle of loving kindness. Rather than a reason to abandon ourselves, it could be cause to care even more deeply about ourselves and this precious experience of being alive.
I’m a meditation teacher who speaks about mindfulness and teaches workshops around the world. I’m also founder of the Open Heart Project, an online meditation community with close to 12,000 members. And what a great time it is to be a meditation teacher! Mindfulness is becoming a movement and although I’m not always sure what people mean when they use the word, I’m just glad they’re using it.
Two recent experiences sharpened my view of the current culture surrounding mindfulness meditation. One involves the esteemed psychologist, academic, and thought leader Daniel Goleman. The other involves side boob.
I was at a recent talk in New York by Dan Goleman in support of his new book, Focus, which makes the case that focus is what drives excellence: accomplishment, impact, leadership. Fair enough. It can.
The talk was at the beautiful ABC Carpet and Home which, in addition to selling exquisite furnishings, hosts such events. One of his opening sentences began, “Recent research at Harvard shows… ” and before he finished the statement I thought, it does not matter what he says next. Everyone is going to believe him (which, in the case of Dan is well-placed because he is awesome). But if he had said, “Through deep practice and perfect realization, the 10th-century mahasiddha Tilopa shows… ” not so much. Okay, I thought. That’s cool. In our culture, scientific proof lowers resistance to new information.
The talk itself was excellent and inspiring. People seemed convinced that mindfulness was important and that somehow it was also a road to success.
In a recent Marie Claire article entitled “Single Girl’s Guide: How to Meditate for a Month” the altogether wonderful writer and meditation practitioner Whitney Joiner wrote a short piece on her experience at a month-long meditation retreat. I happen to have attended the same retreat at a different time so I knew she was not kidding when she wrote, “committing to ostensibly doing nothing is one of the bravest things I’ve ever done.” Truth. Sitting with your own mind hour after hour, day after day, is not easy.
The photograph chosen to accompany the piece was of a supernaturally beautiful and serene-looking young woman sitting on a meditation cushion, wearing a see-through top cut to show major side boob. (Hey, I’ve meditated a lot! I thought. I never got boobs like that.) With this image, mindfulness glowed with the patina of fabulousness. Perhaps readers would think that meditation was somehow connected with glamour, beauty and youthful cool.
Some readers were outraged: Using sex to sell meditation is bad! Others were sanguine: It’s great that meditation is a part of our culture and we should just be happy that it’s entered the mainstream.
Success and sex. These are the things we are taught to value most and of course we will use them to sell meditation. But is it okay to offer the reassurance of scientific proof or a glimpse of perfect breasts to get people to meditate?
Personally, I don’t care. At some point along the path, we find that while success and sex can be awesome, no amount brings lasting happiness and so all our formulas begin to unravel.
In spiritual tradition, this is considered a fortuitous moment.
To practice mindfulness, neither scientific proof nor magnetizing boobage will help you to meet the joys and sorrows of your life. The truth is, the point of mindfulness is not peace, nor is it bliss or transcendence. It does not make you permanently calm or inure you to pain and it does not even give you perky breasts, much to my dissatisfaction. Rather, it shows you where your heart is hard. It reminds you of your dreams. It shows you where you are afraid. It unlocks all the tears you have been holding back and in so doing breaks your heart to the preciousness of your life, the uniqueness of your genius, the unending grief of your losses, and your immeasurable capacity to love. It goes one better than to make you into a supermodel CEO — it shows you how to be who you really are and you discover gentleness, authenticity, and fearlessness. There is no Harvard research or conventional image of beauty that can make it otherwise.
To read about meditation: Turning the Mind Into an Ally.
To learn meditation: The Open Heart Project.
To experience meditation: Being Brave: Is Enlightened Society Possible?
For some reason, I’ve taken it upon myself to declare new holidays. The last one was “International I Don’t Feel Bad About Anything Day” which was celebrated by not feeling guilty or judgmental about anything for one whole day.
The new holiday is called “What About You? Day.” We celebrate by replacing the thought, “What About Me?” with “What About You?” for an entire day. Woohoo!!
This may not sound like the world’s most joyful holiday, but I can tell you that it is. It is not simple politeness that caused the Dalai Lama to say, “If you want to be happy, think of others. If you want to be unhappy, think of yourself.” He said it because it is true.
My teacher, Sakyong Mipham, wrote a song-poem (and even an entire book) about the pain brought about by the question that most of us pose first in any situation: “What about me?” When I first read his thoughts on this, my reaction was, uh-oh. People are going to take this as an opportunity to shame themselves for being selfish rather than the expansive, empowering, important gesture that it really is.
I don’t know one person who wasn’t brought up with issues of self-regard. We were taught either that wanting what we wanted was selfish/silly, or, equally detrimental, that getting what we wanted was an entitlement.
People in the first camp may believe that only after everyone else is comfortable, satisfied, fulfilled, and appreciated can they turn whatever energy they have left (usually not much) to pursuits of self-interest.
People in the second camp may believe either that the world is constructed to deprive them–so they must grab what they want–or, seen especially in young people, that if they want it, it is good and the world should somehow give it to them without pause.
The only two choices here are: 1) denying your needs or 2) making them primary, both of which are acts of aggression. If you try to please and accommodate others at your own expense (self-aggression), of course you will end up depleted and resentful. If you try to grab what you think will make you happy (aggression-aggression), you will immediately see, once you have it, that it doesn’t. So you have to start wanting something else. Both roads lead to pain.
The only issues in being generous arise when we think we don’t have or deserve enough ourselves. We may have been taught to think of others first, but not from a sense of richness and kindness, rather because, well, who are we to place our wants on a par with everyone else’s? Thus our gestures of generosity are from a weakened supply.
The truth is, we are neither more or less deserving than anyone else and when we simply drop the “who comes first” question to explore the contents of our heart now and now and now, we discover that we already possess immeasurable bounty. The supply is beyond estimation. Our capacity to love is endless. Our capacity to care is endless. Our capacity for clarity is endless. These are the treasures that really count and when we draw from them to give to others, no depletion occurs. We find that we are riddled with wealth.
This slight inner switch from making offerings to others as a gesture of bounty rather than of need changes everything, nothing less. To make this switch, you may think you have to become a different kind of person first. You don’t. No global change is required and in fact focusing on that is a distraction. All you have to do is, in the words of Sakyong Mipham Rinpoche, change one word. Change “me” to “you”.
When we change “What about me?” to “What about you?” we are pointed toward our wealth, not our poverty. Richness feels good. Therefore, if you want to be happy, think of others.
To kick off this new holiday, let me ask: What about you? What do you think? What do you need to feel happy? I may or may not be able to help, but I am always glad to listen.
When it comes to the spiritual path, it seems there are two schools of thought. (Well, three. The first school says there is no such thing as a spiritual path.)
The next school says that there is a particular path for you. Find it. Stay with it. Work it.
The final school says there is something of value in all paths (which lead to the same place anyway). It is good to take from each what resonates most for you and create something unique and personal.
I am firmly in the “work it” camp. I believe in ancient wisdom and depth and, truth be told, I believe in pain to a certain degree. If we don’t become uncomfortable at some point in our spiritual life, we’ve probably gone off the rails.
If we seek a new context every time our habitual patterns awkwardly come to light, they will become stronger.
When we pick and choose and then project our interpretation onto the various teachings and practices (as opposed to developing an understanding through experiencing them), our path goes in circles. There is always a new and exciting thing to learn. There is always a new practice to try. There is always an opportunity to hone in on what delights intellectually or emotionally while pointing us away from the deep. And invariably, somewhere someone is promising us bliss in 3 or 7 or 21 steps. When our ego does the picking, it always chooses to skate rather than dive.
(That said, there is a tradition of people for whom tradition is anathema and for them, a proscribed path is a distraction. Thus they must find their own way with less guidance. Such people are very rare. It must be quite lonely and quite beautiful—and quite difficult—to be one.)
I actually don’t believe that all paths are the same in that they are not the same for you. Thinking so is like saying that anyone you love would make a good spouse. If only this were so. You can love many different kinds of people (and I hope you will), but there may be only a few with whom you could actually make a life that you love.
In relationships, dating does not bring you face to face with your capacity to love, only in your capacity to fall in love. Commitment, however, does. This also applies to spirituality.
Thus, I posit. How about you? What do you believe about the spiritual path?
I was in beautiful Shambhala Mountain Center recently, teaching a writing and meditation workshop. As always, it was a wonderful combination of creativity, peace, and vulnerability.
I really don’t know why, but the act of writing produces a lot of emotion, regardless of the subject matter.
I’ve never known a writer who doesn’t do regular battle with these two issues:
1. Inadequacy: I’m not a writer, what do I really know anyway, I have no right, I’m a phony, etc, etc.
2. Unworthiness: Everything worth saying on this subject has already been said, I have nothing new to add, who wants to read what I have to say anyway, etc, etc.
I don’t know if painters are afraid of paint or musicians afraid of their instruments, but writers often begin with fear of writing.
Writing retreats can be surprisingly helpful (if the focus is on writing rather than talking about writing). Meditation also helps. After a few days of regular meditation sessions interspersed with regular writing periods with a clear beginning and end, we all began to relax into the groove. (It’s amazing how helpful it is to have someone other than yourself say: “Start writing.” “Please stop in two hours.” Seriously, that is all it takes.)
In our closing conversation about continuing the groove at home, one woman asked, “How can I find the confidence to keep going? When I’m here, it feels natural but when I’m home, I have all sorts of doubt.” Nods all around the room.
What I said: It’s one thing to try to source confidence from within yourself by telling yourself that certainly you’re good enough and you have something valuable to say and who cares if anyone else thinks so, your story is your story and you have a right to tell it.
That is fine. But it doesn’t really carry you very far.
There is a second source of confidence and it is often overlooked.
That second source is the environment you create around yourself. Yes, you can gain confidence from your surroundings. One reason writing retreats work so well is because the environment is strong and supportive. In Shambhala Buddhism, we call this the “Container Principle” which states that the environment in which an act occurs co-creates the act. The frame changes the picture. You are not the only force at work in any situation. The world you’re in is also a force and when you attend to that aspect, you are covering the bases.
A container can be created by a variety of things. At our retreat, meditation practice, quietude, the presence of other writers, and, most important, the schedule create containment. All the writer has to do is show up. The environment is structured to give confidence no matter what your state of mind upon arrival.
The container you create at home has a different foundation. It starts with uplifting the space itself. (This is in no way meant to send you on a search for the perfect pen, computer, desk, table lamp, task chair, and so on. God, if I only had a word for every second I’ve spent on such searches, I could have written an encyclopedia.) (PS The perfect pen, computer, etc is the one you currently possess…)
By uplifting the space, I mean things like keeping it neat and clean, having flowers or beautiful objects around, and/or surrounding yourself with pictures of people or places you love. These are indications that you take yourself seriously. When the outer environment telegraphs acceptance and doubtlessness, the inner environment responds.
Like many, I struggle intensely with self-doubt. Some time ago, I was telling a friend that I sometimes feel weird because I did not go to college. She said, “Have you framed pictures of your book covers and hung them on the wall? Those are your diplomas.” Wow, that was brilliant. Of course I hadn’t and of course they are.
What are your diplomas? Surround yourself with them. They could include a note from a friend thanking you for your kindness, a picture of a family member who has benefitted from your love, a book cover of something written by an artist you admire and whose spirit you too somehow embody…these are your real credentials. When you surround yourself with them, you create a container that longs to be filled with words.