When you trust your own happiness, you can allow the entire scope of experience to touch your heart. This is the mark of the spiritual warrior. She can hold sweetness, sorrow, rage, and delight equally and fully. She can watch as emotions rise and fall, notice how she reaches out so some and recoils from others, and know that somehow she’ll find a way to make whatever she experiences a part of the path. Whether her world is friendly or inhospitable, smooth or rocky, she can abide in it wholeheartedly. A joyful mind is as infinite as the sky and, like the sky, can contain sunshine and storms, snowflakes and hail. Conditions are continually shifting, but the sky is always the sky. It never gives up. From within it, the great sun rises in the east, the moon meets the tide, and the circle is always complete.
From “How Not to Be Afraid of Your Own Life”
Hello, dear Open Heart Sangha members. For some reason, I was thinking about this passage that I wrote for “How Not to Be Afraid of Your Own Life.” When I read it now, I don’t know where it came from. I didn’t even know when I wrote it, it just came out, and when it did I felt like someone had dictated it to me. It remains the favorite thing “I” ever wrote and I just wanted to share it with you.
We are all working with so much—so much sorrow, so much love, so much confusion, so much longing, so much divine light. The older I get, the more I feel that our work is not to accomplish anything but to make room for it all.
PS I sent you an email last night with the results of our first survey about how this program is going. If you missed it or would like to comment in any regard, I posted it here.
I had an experience the other day that I’m sure you too have had–suddenly the whole world and all its suffering became too much. I started sobbing at the super market. (I seem to be doing a lot of crying lately.) The experience caused me to reflect and I share some of these reflections with you today before our 10-mintue practice.
Audio-only version can be downloaded here.
Having trouble viewing the closed caption version? An un-captioned version can be found here:
Before today’s 10-minute meditation session I offer a few thoughts about depression, sadness, and how meditation can help us work with difficult emotions.
Audio-only version can be downloaded here.
There is such a thing as goodness. It is alive. It is intact. Nothing we do can destroy it.
By goodness, I don’t mean the opposite of badness, exactly. I certainly don’t mean anything sentimental, saccharine…soulless. Ew. Goodness is not goody-goody or cute.
The earth is good. There is goodness in love. Friends are good. Teachers are good and so are students. It can sometimes be good to have an enemy. Pets are good. Reconciliation is good, as are courage, kindness, devotion, dignity, and confusion. The capacity to care—even to notice goodness or non-goodness—is good. Laughing is good and so is crying. Wisdom, insight, and intuition are good. It is good to be fierce and it is good to be soft. Vulnerability is good. Sadness is very good. Anger can sometimes be good and so can doubt. It is good that you can get your feelings hurt because this means your goodness has been wounded and, well, that hurts. (Even though it feels bad, it is good.) Healing is good. There is goodness in art, extraordinary goodness, perhaps the very most.
These things are happening all the time. But none of them need be present in order to feel the goodness because it is always present—in you. Your tenderness reminds you of it and so do your longing, tears, and capacity for joy which are not so different from each other.
The thing that is not so good? Forgetting the goodness. Letting it slide. Hiding from it.
Denying goodness sometimes seems easier than affirming it, however to do so is actually dangerous. With this denial come cruelty, violence, abandonment, and the inability to recognize what is precious and real. We see “us and them” in all things. We perceive attacks where there are none. We are afraid all the time and from this fear come fundamentalism, intolerance, stupidity, and absurdly short-term thinking.
Affirming it reasserts the truth.There is nothing more radical that you can do. It will make some people mad, but do it anyway. Just one person can remind a multitude.
I really enjoyed giving this talk to the creative community here in Boston. I talked about how changes in the way we do business bode well for other changes we’d all like to see in the world…
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 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.