Category Archives: Essays and Articles

Listening to Your Thoughts Like a Friend

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Meditation teachers in the West rarely emphasize thought as a primary object of meditation, even though mindfulness of mental factors is the fourth foundation of mindfulness. There’s a reason for this – from the time we’re young children, many of us are taught to revere thought above all else. When we first come to meditation we may feel as though we’re lost in the rapids of thought, tumbling down a treacherous river with no escape. Initially, establishing awareness at the breath and sensations of the body helps to calm these rapids. But not entirely. The thoughts don’t and won’t stop.

So why not learn to listen to your thoughts like you listen to a good friend? This means bringing your full awareness, with kindness, to your internal dialog. From this perspective, listening practice translates well from hearing external sounds like bird song or passing cars to awareness of the tone and quality of your thoughts, not simply the content. The practice may sound simple, but it takes skill to listen without reacting, judging or getting caught again in those rapids.

We can categorize our thoughts as positive, negative or neutral, just as we can with feelings and sensations. This can help us dis-identify with the specific content of the thought so we can simply observe. Most of us spend a lot of time problem solving, strategizing and planning. Often this activity is necessary and useful. But at other times it diverts us from our present moment experience. Listening to thought can help us to discern when we are using thought to escape and when we are using it wisely.

How often are your thoughts angry, comparing or judgmental? How frequently do you carry on internal dialog with someone who has hurt you or made you angry, but you never verbalize those thoughts skillfully or resolve the conflict? What narratives do you cling to as undisputed truths about yourself or others that narrow your possibilities? As your awareness deepens, you may notice how often your thoughts support the mistaken belief that you are a fixed, separate self, at odds with the outside world. Though listening practice, you may also become aware when compassionate and generous thoughts arise from a sense of interconnection and find opportunities to cultivate more of these. Deep concentration, Samadhi, during meditation practice helps support our insights into interconnection, which we can then bring into our daily lives.

Through listening practice I have discovered that whenever I feel a strong sense of self and other, my thoughts tend toward self-clinging or judgment. When I feel an intuitive sense of interconnection, my mind naturally opens to a more compassionate way of thinking about my life and the world. I am able to listen from the heart and respond with kindness, rather than though old thought patterns that reinforce separation.

When You’re Ready for a Week Long Retreat: Answering Your Heart’s Calling and Overcoming Resistance

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When a meditator makes a commitment to sit their first 7 day (or longer) retreat, it’s a big step and often requires a leap of faith.  Leaving behind family, work and personal obligations for a week or more may feel daunting.  At a deeper level, spending a full week in silence with few distractions may feel even more challenging.  Yet, for those of us who make this commitment, we are answering our heart’s calling to touch the moment so intimately that we have no choice but to receive its full embrace.

Once we’ve committed and the time draws closer, some of us may begin to feel anxious and vulnerable. This is normal and in fact is a good sign because it means our hearts and minds are approaching the spacious, unarmored realm where we fully encounter the dharma . However, this vulnerable feeling is often misinterpreted and may lead people to seek out reasons to avoid the retreat. I’ve experienced this myself. Fortunately, I know this pattern well enough that I don’t let it stop me.

Occasionally practitioners aren’t aware of this process. They may start feeling anxious about leaving loved ones behind for a full week or worry about work and personal obligations. A good question to ask: Why does it feel more difficult to be away for a week long retreat than spending the same amount of time on vacation? Of course, sometimes legitimate situations occur that may prevent a person from attending a retreat. Discerning our true priorities is important.  One year, only a week before a 10 day Vipassana retreat, my spouse had a serious health issue arise that required surgery and recovery time. I had to cancel the retreat, no question. But more commonly, I’ve had to resist the urge to avoid a retreat by looking more clearly at my thoughts, emotions and priorities.

Early in my marriage, for instance, I felt anxious about leaving my husband for a full week.  Various scenarios played out in my mind and I was caught in the grip of fear. Yet, as I mindfully examined the anxiety, I realized I was simply creating stories and scenarios that were unlikely to happen. I moved through the fear and went ahead with the retreat. Attending that retreat not only empowered me, but it was equally beneficial to my husband. Taking care of myself this way actually strengthened the foundation of my marriage.  The same once happened with work situation. I was afraid I would miss an art commission deadline if I was away for a week and wondered if I should back out. But as I carefully studied my calendar I realized that with wise time management I could accommodate both the retreat and the commission. I had no problem making my deadline and my client was quite pleased with the finished piece.

I can say that over the last 20 years in which I’ve participated in numerous 7 day and longer retreats, I have not regretted a single one.  Long retreats have been, and still are, one of the greatest spiritual gifts I give to myself, and those gifts extend to everyone in my life.

Once we answer our heart’s calling, we soon discover that retreats aren’t only for ourselves.

True Nature, No Nature or Buddha Nature?

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“The luminosity of the mind, the nature of clarity of the mind, is something that I cannot simply explain in words to you. But if you undertake this kind of experiment on your own, you will begin to understand.” – Dalai Lama

After practicing meditation for 25 years I rely less and less on words to describe the awakened state, such as “Buddha Nature” or “True Nature.” In reflecting on this, I find I’m not satisfied with any word that conjures up an idea of this unconditioned, unnameable experience. There is often some taint of fabrication that tends to accompany these names. That’s inevitable as its how language works: words and ideas mingle and no matter our best intentions, create an inevitable separation from our actual experience.

So what happens when you experience deep peace and interconnectedness, when you encounter incomparable clarity and luminosity? Usually the mind will quickly weigh in with names and labels or try to create a context for the experience. That’s what the mind does; it usually happens so fast we don’t even see it until the clarity and luminosity are obscured. This is actually a matter of capacity – when we first encounter this luminosity, it is so far from any previous experience we’ve had that our mind quickly veers into fabrication. Only after practicing for some time can we simply dwell in this unobstructed peace without trying to label or contextualize. Our capacity to abide without words or labels grows.

“If you’re primed to look for innate natures, you’ll tend to see innate natures, especially when you reach the luminous, non-dual stages of concentration called themeless, emptiness, and undirected. You’ll get stuck on whichever stage matches your assumptions about what your awakened nature is. But if you’re primed to look for the process of fabrication, you’ll see these stages as forms of fabrication, and this will enable you to deconstruct them, to pacify them, until you encounter the peace that’s not fabricated at all.” – Thanissaro Bhikkhu

The key is to be alert to the mind’s tendency to construct and conceptualize. This is another, more subtle stage of mindfulness, to see when we obscure our experience with ideas about Buddha nature or emptiness. As your practice deepens, you’ll begin to see how readily the mind creates names and fabrications, even for that which can’t be named or classified. The awareness will help you to release any clinging to words or explanations and abide in this mind, clear and luminous beyond words.

 

 

Functional Identity and No-self

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Every morning we put on clothes that allow us to function within our daily activities and obligations. For early exercisers, workout clothes are the first clothing of the day. Others begin the morning with work clothes or simply day clothes. We all wear clothing that gives us a functional identity in the world, whether a standard uniform, jeans and t-shirt or more formal work clothes.

In the same way, we take on functional identities in our lives to fulfill needs, aspirations and obligations. We may be a parent, a friend, a spouse, a programmer and an artist, all in one day. We may also be a meditator and yoga practitioner. Take a look at what you do each day and see how fluid your identity is based on your activates and interactions. I call this functional identity because it serves a purpose but is not fixed; it is subject to change over hours, days, weeks, years and decades. If you cling to identity as concrete and unmoving, you will suffer through the inevitability of change and impermanence.

Most of us don’t cling to our clothes, at least not for long. We change them as needed and realize they aren’t who we are. We recognize the impermanence of any particular set of clothes. If only we could view our perception of self in the same way, our suffering would decrease significantly.

When you realize experientially that the identity you cling to is subject to change and impermanence, that there is no fixed self, you will taste liberation. Your functional identity serves a purpose and doesn’t need to be denied or eliminated, but it is ultimately a kaleidoscope of change over the course of a lifetime. It’s no more permanent than your clothes.

What is your true nature, what is your mind? When you let go, you will find joy and equanimity in this very moment. You will begin to wake up from the illusion of a fixed self and know freedom within the endless flux of experience, of activity, of living and dying.

“I came to realize clearly that mind is no other than mountains and rivers and the great wide Earth, the sun and the moon and the stars.”
~~ Eihei Dogen

Daily Meditation Tip: Letting Go of Self and Anxiety

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If you have a daily meditation practice, you inevitably experience sessions when you feel restless, anxious, or uncomfortable. This is something I mention often because it’s a near universal experience. Some days you may settle onto the cushion and feel relaxed and spacious. At other times, you might quickly seek reasons to end the session, if you make it to the cushion at all.

When you sit daily, you become intimate with your heart and mind in ways both wondrous and disturbing. How do you skillfully face anxiety and restlessness on the cushion? When you first take a seat, you may see a daunting meditation session stretching out in front of you. How do you stay put when every impulse in your body says to leave? First, be fully aware of it, don’t push it away. You might start by offering gratitude to the anxiety – it is a present moment experience – this is what we have in this life. The flavor may not be your favorite, but it is worth tasting nonetheless.  Give it a try. Gratitude practice, even toward our unwanted visitors on the cushion, can help notch down resistance.

Remember to return to your body and the physical sensations associated with the discomfort. This is especially important in working with anxiety. Don’t try to get rid of it. I’ve discovered that as soon as I commit to staying present with anxiety or restlessness, my sense of time and the impulse to escape begin to dissolve. There’s no longer a “me” that is separate from what appeared to be a problem, what I thought of as “anxiety.” Labels have practical uses, but they can easily cause us to react from old scripts that separate us from experiencing what’s arising.

The apparent duality of our self and our experience creates an illusion that there is something separate to be rid of. This dichotomy leads to myriad forms of suffering because it’s a struggle with no end. As long as we identify as a self that is trying to eliminate discomfort and inconvenience, we’ll stay stuck in this conundrum. But when we let go, the sense of self and separation dissolve. What we define as a problem is gone.  What’s left? Something delicious. Beyond that, you’ll have to taste it yourself. Keep practicing. It’s well worth it!

 

De-composing Your Songs

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Have you ever gotten a song stuck in your head and no matter how hard you tried, it wouldn’t stop? I often hear this from students on their first residential retreats. They become frustrated that their minds are filled with a particular song to the point that there’s no space for anything else. In truth it’s not really a problem, but until students realize this, they feel totally stuck. This situation isn’t too far off from how many of us live our lives, immersed in certain repetitive narratives that seem to squeeze the space and energy from our lives.

Most of us are familiar with our stuck stories, the ones that rear up at inopportune times, or when things don’t go our way. For some of us, our dark repetitive thoughts may accompany us every day and lead to full blown depression. For others, they’re more like a damp, cloudy drizzle, arriving just after we’ve settled at the park with our picnic blanket and basket. Either way, these old songs have a way of taking over our minds and snuffing out awareness and appreciation of our daily activities.

As young adult I was terrified of public speaking. The first time I spoke in front of a group at work, which was only about six people, I nearly fainted! My boss suggested I join Toastmasters, a speakers group, to gain experience and confidence. Reluctantly I agreed. In the process of doing what I feared most, I began to see the stuck stories in my head: If I speak in front of a crowd I’ll freeze up and forget what to say; I’m too introverted, I’m not capable of public speaking; I don’t have anything worth sharing with a crowd. These songs were tied to fixed identity I held of myself as a shy and private person. But they were just a narrative and had nothing to do with me as a fluid, ever changing being. This became clearer and clearer the more I spoke in public. The fear didn’t dissipate completely but I learned to accommodate it; my old songs still appeared and I simply acknowledged them while getting on with my presentations. As they lost their power over me, I was able to tap into the creative energy that had been blocked by those old songs. My presentations improved and I began to do public talks on a regular basis.

What are some of your songs? Do you fall into self-blame and criticism when you don’t achieve an objective? Are you sensitive to how others perceive you, maybe a person whose approval you care about says or does something that leaves you feeling rejected? Are you afraid of being alone and left out? Often, we perceive people or events in accord with rigid ideas about ourselves and twist them into something they’re not. If this happens enough, we may even give up on a relationship or an important intention in our lives.

On my first week long meditation retreat, the teacher kept encouraging us to dig deeper into our koans. I was practicing in the Rinzai Zen tradition at the time and koans were a vital part of our practice. Halfway through the retreat I was feeling frustrated and stuck, telling myself that this particular koan was too difficult. That night during a dharma talk, my teacher spoke with deep conviction that all of us there needed to believe in our innate capacity to awaken, that we were capable of far more than we knew. His words cut to my heart; I knew they were true. Right at that moment I saw through the song I had created about my limits, that the koan was too hard. I recommitted to working with the koan and had a breakthrough. Similarly, I’ve seen many dharma students give up on a committed practice because they didn’t believe they had the capacity to awaken deeply. But sincere practice often brings a series of smaller awakenings that begin to accumulate over time and lead to major insights. Patience is needed, returning to this breath, this moment, over and over.

Here’s another example. Let’s say you’ve decide to start a daily meditation practice. You know how important it is, you’ve read all the studies and heard testimonials from teachers and students alike who say it is life changing. You get off to a good start and sit daily for a week, a month, or even longer. Then something comes up, internally or externally, and you start to miss a day here and there. Pretty soon you’re missing days or weeks. At some point you try to recommit, but the juice, the excitement and motivation are gone. Did your enthusiasm for meditation just wear off, or is there more going on in your mind that dampens your efforts? This is where taking a closer look at your old songs can illuminate your mind.

What are you really telling yourself about this effort? What’s your song? Look beneath the familiar excuses about lack of time or the vague promise that you’ll get back to it someday soon. If needed, let it be an open ended question until a clear answer appears. Practice patience. Look at your responses when you ask the question, where do you feel it in your body? Is it a contraction at your chest or a twinge of anxiety in your stomach? This practice will help you settle your discursive mind and access insight. Your sincere intention will support you. Once your song is visible and out of the dark, you can start to de-compose your song and resume your practice with a much greater chance of consistency.

We can de-compose our songs by seeing them clearly. It’s really pretty simple; the hard part is letting go of the spiral of reactive thoughts and emotions that accompany our narratives and lead us astray. If we train our minds to keep coming back to this moment, we can experience our stories as a felt sense, right now. The more we do this, the more will find open space where once there were tight, dark knots and a rigidly defined sense of self. We access energy and the power of insight that will begin to diminish our clinging, open us to new possibilities and ultimately lead us to liberation.

Bridging the Gap: When Compassion Starts Here

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As with many spiritual traditions, Buddhism emphasizes cultivating compassion as vital to a spiritual life. Most of us want to be compassionate at heart yet at times we may struggle to manifest it skillfully in daily life. What happens when we see a homeless person on an empty street and we recoil rather than feeling a warm prod to reach out and help? Maybe a family member needs our support but we’ve had a long history of conflicts and misunderstandings and we struggle to extend a hand. Perhaps a co-worker who always seems aloof or combative has a tragic loss. Instead of feeling a sense of caring and interconnection with their suffering, we feel neutral, detached.

At times like these our response to misfortune and suffering is misaligned with our ideals. When we see this gap, we may feel even more separate. This can easily turn into self judgment and criticism: “I’m not a very compassionate person;” “I don’t have the courage to help;” or even, “that person doesn’t deserve kindness.”

When our response doesn’t conform to our ideals, it helps to remember that compassion won’t blossom until we accept our immediate reaction. This is the gap—when our response and our ideals are out of sync. Instead of identifying only with our ideals, or judging ourselves for an unwanted response, we can learn to stay in the gap, the open place where we can experience our fear, our hurt or our frustration when our desire to help goes nowhere. This is where compassion begins. Returning to this place, our bodies, our hearts, what is truly arising at this moment?

If you’re walking down the street and encounter a homeless person, can you see the moment aversion arises and just experience it? It may not happen immediately, but once you’re aware of it, take a few breaths and stay in the midst of your experience. As you learn to do this, your conditioned response will begin to diminish, even dismantle. The contraction of fear will soften, the sense of separation, born of that fear, will also dissolve. As we lose identification with ourselves as a separate entity, we experience the homeless person’s suffering directly. We know its not different from our own, just another flavor made manifest. Maybe there’s nothing we can do in that moment to help. Sometimes the correct response is to distance ourselves if the situation seems unstable. But if there’s no immediate threat, perhaps simply a smile, an acknowledgement that we actually see this human being, is the kindest response. Longer term, we may seek out concrete ways to help if we feel moved in this direction.

The roots of suffering run deep. As we learn to stay in the gap, not turning away from our fear or aversion, a skillful and compassionate response is closer at hand. As Ajahn Chah puts it, “There are two kinds of suffering. There is the suffering you run away from, which follows you everywhere. And there is the suffering you face directly, and so become free.”

No Choice, No Excuses: How to Stick With a Daily Meditation Practice

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One of the most seemingly simple, common questions I’m asked by students is how to establish a daily meditation practice. Easy to ask, but hard to do, even for long term meditators. New meditation students usually want the nuts and bolts of getting a daily practice going. Often, however, I’m asked this question by people who have been meditating sporadically for years, even decades. They already know the drill, but perhaps they secretly hope there’s some trick they’re overlooking that will make the practice fall into place. The simplest, most straightforward answer I can give is always the same: “no choice, no excuses.” That’s it. If you approach a daily practice with this attitude, you will be successful. There are many good books on how to meditate, so my focus here will remain on establishing the discipline and commitment to sit daily.

Meditation has to be a priority equal to sleeping, eating, showering and brushing your teeth. We do these things every day, no questions asked. Its just part of caring for our lives. We find time for these activities. But when it comes to meditation, all too often the time disappears. Is maintenance for our bodies truly more important than maintenance for our minds? As Chogyam Trungpa put it, “It’s as if you think you’re a victim of your life and not of your laziness.” This may seem harsh, and I’ll leave it up to you to discern if there’s truth here for you. We can easily occupy our minds with  social media, internet, television, etc., but not with meditation. How can that be true?

It helps if you’re a naturally disciplined person. When I started my mediation practice, I had a tendency toward discipline in most parts of my life. I could apply that disciple to my practice. But I was also very motivated. I saw meditation as something so vital to my life that I wasn’t going to give myself a choice. My monkey mind often had different ideas, though. Excuses would arise, sometimes every morning, especially if I had overslept or had a full day ahead. I learned to acknowledge those voices but go about my meditation anyway. The more I practiced, the more I knew I didn’t have to believe my thoughts, including my reasons for not meditating. Those thoughts represented a familiar pattern of resistance, the mind that didn’t want to look at itself closely and intimately without distractions. Sometimes it was scary, seeing and experiencing myself so clearly. And that’s what we get on the cushion: an intimate view of ourselves, through the myriad ways we manifest our humanity day after day. Sometimes pretty, sometimes unpleasant. A good dose of compassion will go a long way toward opening ourselves to this spectrum. As the mind stills, we begin to experience this moment as it is, with “suchness.” We encounter our true nature as we lose the separation of myself and the other, the observer and the observed. Equanimity arises.

If you’re young, everyday patterns usually aren’t as ingrained so you have a good chance of sticking with a practice if you’re motivated. As we get older, our routines become more established, so we may find more resistance when we begin to uproot our patterns. But with enough commitment, anyone can begin and stick with a daily practice. Don’t look for results, just keep meditating daily and forget about the outcome. You’re planting seeds that will sprout when they’re ready. If you miss a few days, avoid self-blame and just get back on the cushion to start anew. At some point, you won’t even have to think about it any more.

Many students tell me the most difficult part of daily meditation is facing restlessness and anxiety on the cushion. Some days our minds are very active with planning, ideas, work issues, problem solving, etc. On these days it may be hard to stay still for the allotted time. When this happens, remember to bring your attention back to your body. This will balance the energy that you’ve been investing in mental activities. When the mind is restless, you’ll gradually discern feelings of anxiety and other sensations in the body. Stay with it to the extent you are able and remember kindness. Once you learn to steadily rest your attention at the body, your agitated thoughts will begin to dissipate and soon you’ll be present again, even in the midst of anxious feelings. When you experience them directly they’re no longer an obstacle.

I’m often asked, “is a daily meditation practice really worth it?” There are plenty of solid studies and books that can answer this question. I can say meditation has been transformational for me, and many others through the centuries. If you spend considerable energy grappling with this question rather than sitting, maybe you need to find something else to do with your time for a while. In any case you’ll have to find this answer for yourself. You’ll never know unless you give it a chance. If you do, the odds are high that you will say “yes.”

Spring Renewal 2014 Retreat Recap

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This past Sunday we completed our fifth residential retreat at Bethany Hills. Hard to believe its already been five! This was our smoothest retreat yet. Perfect weather and a solid, committed group of practitioners. Their practice backgrounds spanned the range from new meditators to a few with 25 + years of meditation and retreat experience. Wildlife was abundant and active at this retreat with the birds and frogs supporting our meditation through their beautiful symphonies.

Dogwoods in Full Bloom, Bethany Hills Camp.

Dogwoods in Full Bloom, Bethany Hills Camp.

We were fortunate that the ticks weren’t out yet as spring came a little late to Bethany Hills. From Thursday evening to Sunday morning we witnessed the greening of the grounds and surrounding woods. As I first walked around the pond Thursday afternoon, seeing the hints of spring, I felt deep gratitude and joy for the time those of us attending had  set aside to remove ourselves from everyday busyness and distractions, to take the weekend to connect deeply with our hearts and minds. Its a true gift to offer this to ourselves.

A good retreat will challenge its participants. Like all retreats, there were many who struggled to meet their unwanted guests or unexpected demons. At times like this, the way through is in, with compassion and courage. Facing the demons at this level can bring about transformative insight that is life changing. I’ve seen it happen time and again, and after 25 years of practice, I can say that this process still makes a difference in my own life. But what’s most rewarding to me now is watching others do what they believed impossible and witnessing the joy on their faces once the struggle has dissolved into open space.

If you’re inclined but you’ve yet to dive in to a residential retreat, its well worth it!

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Dive In To Retreat!

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This is an excerpt from Trudy Goodman’s InsightLA blog about the value of meditation retreats:

We live in a culture that doesn’t teach us how to nourish ourselves in truly fulfilling ways. Taking a day or a week or a month or more for retreat, at home or in a group, can provide the protected, safe space we need to deepen our trust in experience, to discover what we really want in this life, and to fall in love. We fall in love with life, with the miracle of awareness, with this vast reality we inhabit together.

As lay people devoted to a life of mindfulness and awakening, we are creating beautiful contemplative forms that allow us to weave loving awareness into our everyday lives. Learning from our teachers and ancestors, we respectfully bow to the ancient wisdom traditions while experimenting and inventing our own.

The forms of our Vipassana/Mindfulness/Insight meditation retreats have matured to allow us to attune our inner rhythms to the immense current of universal life flowing through us, as us. Finding our way on retreat requires some patience, but it’s well worth it. Yes, it takes effort to stop, to let our guard down, and feel safe enough to let the heart open and the bodymind unwind. Then effort surrenders to relaxing more and more in the wholeness of life as it is, and from this relaxation there can be an illuminating encounter with unknown parts of ourselves, and with the mystery of being – DIVE IN!

For the full post, go here.