Category: Equanimity

Don’t Hit the Fast-forward Button

November 2, 2020

4 Noble Truths, Equanimity, Everyday practices, fearlessness, impermanence, not abandoning, Self-care, self-compassion, The Eight Worldly Winds, The End of craving, Thich Nhat Hanh

Buddha with cranes, photo by Celia

“And the Blessed One addressed the bhikkhus, saying: “Behold now, bhikkhus, I exhort you: All compounded things are subject to vanish. Strive with earnestness!”[58]
This was the last word of the Tathagata.”
~”Maha-parinibbana Sutta: Last Days of the Buddha” (DN 16), translated from the Pali by Sister Vajira & Francis Story

For everything there is a season,
and a time for every matter under heaven:
a time to be born, and a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;
a time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a time to build up;
a time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
a time to seek, and a time to lose;
a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
a time to tear, and a time to sew;
a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
a time to love, and a time to hate;
a time for war, and a time for peace.
~Ecclesiastes 3:1-8
(English Standard Version Bible)

Dear friends,

Last week, I honestly looked at my desires and saw how much I wanted to fast forward life, to be past this election, past the pandemic. I wanted it over and was not looking forward to living through the process of having these things unfold moment by moment. I had real resistance to this pain of uncertainty and the not knowing. When I was able to stay present with the discomfort with compassion, something shifted. I don’t know exactly the catalyst. I do know that there was a moment of joy when I recognized that I have been taught how to hold my suffering. I know what to do and I am doing it.

There is a joy that comes when we do not abandon ourselves, when we have the confidence to stay present and to say, “I got you. I am here for you, no matter what.” I come back to this self-compassion over and over. It is the most transformative and powerful medicine I have received from my practice. Showing up and knowing that no matter how good or how bad, I have the resources to stay.

The Buddha’s teaching on the Eight Worldly Winds, also called the vicissitudes, has helped me put my experience into perspective. 2,600 years ago, the Buddha said, “Monks, these eight worldly conditions spin after the world, and the world spins after these eight worldly conditions. Which eight? Gain, loss, status, disgrace, censure, praise, pleasure, & pain. These are the eight worldly conditions that spin after the world, and the world spins after these eight worldly conditions. (Lokavipatti Sutta: The Failings of the World, T. Bhikkhu, trans.)”

In this ancient teaching, we can see the universality of loss and pain. We encounter this in the first Noble Truth, that suffering, or stress exists. We also know that there are causes and reasons for suffering. This is the second Noble Truth. When we see the causes for suffering and discomfort in our lives, this gives us understanding and clarity. Recognizing these conditions leads us to the Third Noble Truth, that there is the opposite of suffering. The law of impermanence teaches that nothing can exist forever, this too will change. It cannot stay the same.

I can feel lots of compassion for us as a country and a world, longing for this pandemic to end, longing for racial justice, for change, for hope. And I remember a teaching by Buddhist nun Pema Chodron who was caught in distress. Her teacher asked her to notice the years of habits it took to for her to get into that state and to know it would take a while to get out. As a country, we have been planting the painful and violent seeds of racial inequality for more than 400 years. It takes time to uproot those dangerous vines long interwoven in the culture of America. This requires staying with the frustration, the discomfort, and the exhaustion. If we know how to show up when we are in pain, we will have more ability to be the hand that risks discomfort by pulling out the creeping thorns by the roots.

When we leave our experience, we lose the opportunity to develop trust in ourselves. As we learn to stay with the difficult and painful with compassion, we also learn how to titrate—not to exceed our capacity—to have a touch and go relationship with suffering that can help us to stay in self-trust. This is already the Fourth Noble Truth, stepping onto the path of practice ascribed by the Buddha. This path is powerful medicine to strengthen us against the forces that can overwhelm and destabilize our minds and hearts.

In 2013, Thich Nhat Hanh gave a series of retreats titled, The Art of Suffering. I remember him saying that he would never want his children to go to heaven if there were no suffering there. They needed suffering—a little bit, not too much—to grow and to stretch. They also needed to experience suffering to know what the end of suffering feels like. There could be no heaven if there was no opposite of heaven. This is the law of non-duality. Nothing can exist by itself alone. It needs a counterbalance or opposite to allow it to be known.

In the retreat, Thay spoke about staying present with our suffering, owning it, being available for it. When I want to fast forward through my life and wish it all away, I deny that I have competency and the presence to take care of myself. I forget my own resilience and strength and dodge whatever I see coming out of fear and reactivity instead of taking a breath, feeling my feet on the ground and connecting with my deepest intention, the realization of cessation, freedom, or nibbana. When I know suffering, and also know my own ability to accompany myself, I know the end of suffering.

Liberation is the act of non-abandoning is a way I show myself kindness and trust. I trust that I can be there for me. I trust that my presence liberates myself from the prison of helplessness, from rushing through. I can call upon my supports, my ancestors and those I admire who have lived through wars, through oppression, through situations that I have not experienced in my life time and they still found their freedom. Freedom is a way to reclaim our power.

The more our culture is infiltrated by algorithms that direct us towards what to feel, what to believe, who to trust, the more we are manipulated by what is outside of us. Returning to ourselves, to reclaim our freedom and our innate goodness is a radical act of self-accompaniment. We are truly free when we know that we have our own support no matter what comes, and we are ready, excited even to meet that challenges of accompanying ourselves.

When we have touched the benefits of practice, of meditation, stillness, and centering, we are able to return to the place in us. We learn over time that this is not dependent upon conditions. It is determined by our commitment to our own liberation, our own enlightenment. Enlightenment is the promise that we are born with the ability to live in the classroom of our lives and to learn what is necessary for us. Enlightenment is the stilling and the end of our desire to make this moment any different. We do this practice, not by giving up, but by straightening up.

May we all trust our light,

Celia

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Leaving the Door Open

March 30, 2020

Equanimity, Feelings, Mindfulness of feelings, suffering, Uncategorized

Daisy. photo by Celia

“Feelings come and go like clouds in a windy sky. Conscious breathing is my anchor.”

~Thich Nhat Hanh

“Feel the feelings and drop the story.” ~Pema Chodron

“This is one of the peculiar problems of our culture: we are terrified of our feelings. We think that if we give them any scope and if we don’t immediately beat them down, they will lead us down into all kinds of chaotic and destructive actions.

But if, for a change, we would allow our feelings and look upon their comings and goings as something as beautiful and necessary as changes in the weather, the going of night and day and the four seasons, we would be at peace with ourselves.”

~ Alan Watts

“Peace isn’t an experience free of challenges, free of rough and smooth, it’s an experience that’s expansive enough to include all that arises without feeling threatened.” ~Pema Chodron

Dear friends,

I am wondering, as I write this lying in bed, how many of you are feeling a little blah or low energy amid all this uncertainty? Or maybe you are feeling a lot blah, and understandably exhausted because of the new technology you are being asked to learn and implement in a flash? Or maybe you’re feeling relieved that things are slower, or really scared, or guilty that you aren’t feeling gratitude for your health at this moment and instead are frustrated by the lack of sports or availability of lentils at the market? I offer us all a great big, “yes,” to it all. The changes we are all encountering are enormous, even if our lives are relatively unaffected if we already work from home and live a solitary, sanitized life, we are all connected to this tremendous chain of reactions, worries, and feelings that are spilling into our homes via television, internet, and social media.

Some of us are finding it difficult to hold all this information and the reverberations of global suffering, worry, and anger. We may find we spiritualize and attempt to dismiss our worry and overwhelm as just thoughts we don’t have to believe—or to get entangled with the suffering and find it hard to focus. We can’t read or do anything but watch the news and get some satisfaction that we know all the current infection rates and death statistics. Like it or not, as embodies being who share space on this planet, we have a response to this collective upheaval. When we are able to acknowledge that we are affected, without suppressing, denying, or become swallowed by our feelings—we can begin to calm our nervous system and to allow our feelings to come and go—the way feelings do.

People I have spoken to are impacted by learning new technology and being challenged by working at home, trying to stay at a distance, feeling scared of contamination and despite the lack of doing, there’s a tangible feeling of anxiety and unrest in the world. This morning, I listened for about half an hour to the news. Afterward, I noticed that even that much exposure created a response in my limbic system. I was afraid, angry, blaming, there were flashes of despair and wondering. It was like an electrical storm. When I stopped and sat and left the door open to all these flashes of information, my feelings manifested, fed by the conditions of listening to collective fear and suffering—and then, when they were no longer fed—they left.

I’ve noticed that recognizing and allowing what is can feel like we are doing the opposite of what we should be doing. We would like to be patient and positive, the people who are unflustered by the empty shelves at grocery stores and respond with equanimity when our children ask us for the fifth time if they can go visit their friends and we say no. But sometimes we aren’t equanimous. Sometimes we are hurting because everyone around us is hurting. Being honest about what’s manifesting in us is one way stop the struggle and be able to relax into what is. My dog Daisy has offered me a very apt analogy.

Daisy is one of my rescue dogs. I didn’t meet Daisy before she came to my house. My daughter picked her out from a website because she was fluffy and had pretty eyes. Daisy was one of two dogs who were suspected of having Parvo, a highly contagious disease for dogs. Daisy and her littermate were kept confined indoors in a small area and saw one woman who took care of them. Daisy spent three days being trucked to us from South Carolina. When she arrived in my life, at three months old, she didn’t know what grass was and was terrified of noises. She barked at men, distrusted shopping carts, trash cans, ladders, and anything that moved quickly. Three years later, Daisy is reasonably well adjusted. She is a highly effective watchdog, bred to guard sheep. She has decided that I am her sheep. She may look like she’s sleeping, but she tracks if I make a move towards the door or put on my shoes; she’s ready. She is on guard to protect me from the cats who want attention and intervene if any humans dare to get close to me—including my spouse.

When I sit and meditate, have a Zoom meeting, or want a quiet phone call, if I think closing the door to the anxious Daisy will give me peace, I am mistaken. After a few minutes, there’s whining, scratching and it doesn’t stop. She lies down and waits; she makes more inventive noises. She becomes very distracting. When I open the door, she is excited and circles, checks me with her nose repeatedly—she is once again, distracting—her anxiety is reignited. She doesn’t let me out of her sight, and I can sense she’s on alert, knowing she might be banished.

What I have learned, is that when I leave the door open, Daisy comes in quietly. She lies down; she gets up and leaves. She comes back. She’s quiet. She isn’t frenzied about being in the room because she can come and go. She has permission to be there. She doesn’t touch me repeatedly with her wet nose or look at me with that wounded dog look. She is so quiet that sometimes I notice her, sometimes, I don’t. It’s the same with our emotional states. When we create these boundaries and set up conditions of shame and aversion, we increase the tension and anxiety we are trying to mitigate. When we open the door to what is there, we can learn to notice its coming and going without making it wrong, forbidden, or even something special. Feelings come and go. That’s the nature of feelings.

And please remember that there are no wrong feelings. Leaving the door open lets them come and go, lets them relax and know they too have permission to be here. We don’t have to carry them and to be bowed down by them. They can come and go knowing they are all allowed, they all belong.

May we all trust our light,

Celia

If you have some time and would like to listen, Nishant Garg and I take a deeper look into mindfulness, self-compassion, and forgiveness. Here’s the link http://nishantgarg.me/2020/03/24/celia-landman

And an article by me in this month’s issue of EPIC Magazine on Fierce Compassion. https://epicmag.org/pdfs/tricountyct-march-april-2020/?page=12

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The Earth in Me

September 23, 2019

Activism, Climate change, Equanimity, interbeing, Patience, Uncategorized

Bantam River, Photo by Celia

“Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it’s the only thing that ever has.” ~Margaret Mead

“Once we see that something needs to be done, we must take action. Seeing and action go together. Otherwise, what is the point in seeing?” ~Thich Nhat Hanh

“Just as a solid rock is not shaken by the storm, even so the wise are not affected by praise or blame.” ~ The Dhammapada, Verse 81

Dear friends,

Many of us recently participated in the Global Climate Strike this past week. I had the pleasure of reconnecting with this section of Thich Nhat Hanh’s Love Letter to the Earth, which Buddhist practitioners read at City Hall in New York before making peaceful steps to support the call for climate action. On Friday, I stayed local and was part of a small group of folks who came together on the Green in Litchfield, Connecticut. We received lots of support from those driving by, honks, waves, shouts of thanks…and a much smaller helping of disapproval, shouts that climate change is not real, trucks gunning their engines and revving in front of our group, one man told us to go home and stop telling people what to think. The scientific data supporting this issue is politicized and although many of us may recognize that humans have impacted the Earth in dangerous ways, many of us have a different reality.

Some of my time on Friday was spent wishing well to those who have a different view and being mindful of any feeling of righteousness. Thich Nhat Hanh in the Three Earth Touchings reminds us of the non-dual nature of living on Earth, “I am the forest that is being cut down. I am the rivers and the air that are being polluted, and I am also the person who cuts down the forest and pollutes the rivers and the air. I see myself in all species, and I see all species in me.” This is the understanding of Interbeing, which sees the non-self nature in the world and in us. Interbeing acknowledges we are linked to that which we might consider shameful, or ignorant. We are part of all things, not just the things we admire and like. We can know that we are not separate from others who may have very divergent views.

The Buddha repeated used imagery of the Earth, especially to point out that we are not what we think we are. The physiological understanding 2,600 years ago included the four elements of Earth (solidity), Water (liquid), Fire (temperature and digestion), and Wind (air, movement, circulation) in the body and outside the body. Awareness of these aspects of ourselves in each human form and as they appear in the world, free from the confines of skin and flesh, shows we are interwoven with this planet. As Thich Nhat Hanh writes in his love letter, “You aren’t a person, but I know you are not less than a person either. You are a living breathing being in the form of a planet.” This living and breathing Earth is essential for all other life forms.

A neighbor told me that she was passionate about the Earth but didn’t know where to start and how to feel like her actions mattered. I believe this is true for so many folks. The problems feel so vast and we are so small. When we believe our actions, our thoughts, and intentions hold no value, it’s easy to lose our confidence. When we can connect with our intentions and nourish our commitments, we find that even small actions have the potential to renew us and support the longevity of committing to action. A way to build reverence and compassion for our ability to create change and our interconnectedness is through the Plum Village practice of Earth Touchings. To relinquish our idea of superiority and lie our body upon the Earth, allows the Earth to hold our sorrow, our desire to do more, our frustration and our pain. It can be deeply healing to surrender ourselves to the care of the Earth and to know that she is also in our care. When we see our strength aligned with the Earth, we are following the Buddha’s instructions for his son Rahula.

The Buddha told his son to “develop the meditation in tune with earth. For when you are developing the meditation in tune with earth, agreeable & disagreeable sensory impressions that have arisen will not stay in charge of your mind. Just as when people throw what is clean or unclean on the earth — feces, urine, saliva, pus, or blood — the earth is not horrified, humiliated, or disgusted by it; in the same way, when you are developing the meditation in tune with earth, agreeable & disagreeable sensory impressions that have arisen will not stay in charge of your mind,” (Maha-Rahulovada Sutta: The Greater Exhortation to Rahula, MN 62). This is the training of acceptance and patience.

The Earth has held all things with equanimity. When we meditate on the solidity of the Earth element in ourselves, we can touch this unshakable part of ourselves, beyond our small judgments and see that all beings, just like me, want safety, choice, and consideration. When we look with the eyes of Earth, we see that anger and hostility are protections from fear and vulnerability. Just like the Earth, we learn not to take things personally, nor let the arising of hopelessness or fear deter us from caring. The Earth does not feel humiliation or pride but is steady and unwavering—The Earth knows her value. The Earth Touching practice can nurture our intention to create a deep bond with this planet we are a part of. Practicing with humility and reverence, we recognize that when we care for the Earth, we care for ourselves. Now more than ever, we cannot afford to doubt our value and contribution. We need all of us to support our planet and our belief that our actions make a difference.

May we all trust our light,

Celia

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The Guardian of Myself

August 6, 2019

compassion, Creating intention, Equanimity, Everyday mindfulness, Healing our society, Healing Ourselves, Loving Kindness, Meditation, Metta, Mindfulness, Neuroscience of compassion, Transforming emotions, Uncategorized

Venerable and friends, Bantam, CT. Photo by Celia

“Strive at first to meditate

Upon the sameness of yourself and others.

In joy and sorrow, all are equal.

Thus be guardian of all, as of yourself.”

~Shantideva, The Way of the Bodhisattva

Dear Friends,

I was saddened—to see my former classmate and mindfulness colleague on the news this week. He’s the Police Chief in Dayton, Ohio and when he’s on television it means there’s a tragedy—and according to the New York Times, the Dayton shooting was the 32^nd mass shooting this year. As I watched the reports of the three major shootings this week and read the news, I felt an overwhelming weight of pain and collective suffering. I remembered what contemplative neuroscientist researcher Tonia Singer said in her Ted talk, “watching suffering, [ie.] the news, activates the limbic system.” The limbic system is the emotional enter of the brain responsible for the sympathetic nervous system and the fight or flight response to stimuli. It is also activated by trauma and watching the news can give us vicarious or secondary trauma from contact with images and accounts of violence and hostility.

We are processing and receiving information all the time and we unconsciously take on the emotional state of others.

Researchers compare the activity of the brain between those who are suffering and those who are witnessing the pain. In fMRI scans display the activation of the insula, the locus of the pain activates when we witness someone who is suffering. Contemplative neuroscientist, Tonia Singer tells us that this emotional response is “unconscious, the insula fires in a millisecond—we are processing every second of our lives. We unconsciously go into emotional resonance of others.” This is the emotional resonance of empathy, or the ability to understand what another is feeling. This feeling of pain and despair is part of the response of empathetic contagion. In the face of so much collective suffering and loss, we can be thrown off-center and become paralyzed and powerless in the face of hatred and destruction.

Neuroscience researchers Tonia Singer and Olga Klimenki wanted to study the different qualities of empathetic contagion and compassion. Using distressing film footage from the BBC news, they found that participants who focused on the pain of those they viewed reported negative feelings of hopelessness, despair, and depression, agitation, and frustration, while those who trained in compassion, the wish that suffering is relieved, experienced feelings of solidity, of reward, and even happiness faced with the same news that others found so distressing.

Neuroscience learned from monks who individually have over 40,000 practice hours of compassion meditation, that encountering suffering, these monks fully comprehend the pain of the other and shift into the practice of compassion. The neural circuitry of compassion activates the body’s own powerful analgesic system connected to oxytocin and opiate production for relieving pain. The monks practicing compassion reported feelings “positive affiliation, love, reward, of concern, strength and warm feeling” according to Singer.

Thich Nhat Hanh reminds us that “compassion is a verb.” Compassion is the desire to remove suffering and the impetus to do so. Compassion is doing something.

In loving kindness meditation, there is the intention to transform suffering. This intention is an action. Neuroscience shows us the dramatic shift that can arise from changing our thought pattern. Using fMRI technology, the intention for others to be well and happy completely shifted the neural connectivity and the emotional state of the practitioner.

When we are steady and balanced in our lives, we are capable of meeting the suffering of others. In neuroscience this is called the caring affiliative system—Singer explains the importance of this system in bringing about the end of suffering in oneself and another, “If a child cries, the mother cries, you know the child will cry even more. This caring affiliation system what it does naturally is soothing the child, getting calm and pouring out this concern and love.” Research demonstrates that the same person who experienced empathetic distress at another’s pain, and experienced suffering and distress could activate the care and affiliation circuitry after compassion training. The evidence is very clear, and Singer acknowledges, “We need compassion—which is the system of affiliation and love—the positive feeling of strength and concern for others.” This shift in our mind creates resilience and the ability to transform our own suffering and when we can show up with a calm and balanced presence, we have much more capability for wise and sustained action.

This week my compassion prayer is, May I not close my heart to my suffering. May I not close my heart to your suffering. This is how it is right now–for both of us. May I remain balanced and at ease in the middle of things. May you find peace in the midst of this and may all of us realize the end of suffering.

May we all trust our light,

Celia

Calligraphy by Thich Nhat Hanh

2 comments on The Guardian of Myself
Beyond hope lies wisdom and love

July 23, 2019

Appreciative Joy, Brahamaviharas, Equanimity, joy, Letting Be, love, Metta, Mindfulness, Mindfulness of feelings, Moving beyond hope, Non-attachment, Thich Nhat Hanh, Uncategorized, Wisdom

View from tea house, Lan Su Chinese Garden, Portland, OR. Photo by Celia

“If we believe that tomorrow will be better, we can bear a hardship today. But that is the most that hope can do for us – to make some hardship lighter. When I think deeply about the nature of hope, I see something tragic. Since we cling to our hope in the future, we do not focus our energies and capabilities on the present moment. We use hope to believe something better will happen in the future, that we will arrive at peace, or the Kingdom of God. Hope becomes a kind of obstacle. If you can refrain from hoping, you can bring yourself entirely into the present moment and discover the joy that is already here.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh, Peace Is Every Step: The Path of Mindfulness in Everyday Life

Dear Friends,

Some of you may have noticed that while the characteristics of faith, trust, and impermanence all have a starring role in the Buddhist lexicon, the word hope is conspicuously absent. What is it about hope that makes it an outlier attribute? Why didn’t the Buddha prescribe a practice of hope for his followers?

I looked up hope and Miriam Webster’s describes it as “desire accompanied by expectation of or belief in fulfillment,” ahh—there’s the rub—the expectation of fulfillment. As Thich Nhat Hanh points out, hope can be an obstacle when it prevents us from accepting what is. Hope can have us leaning into the future where we believe things will be better, we, or our loved ones, will be healed, or different. The reason that this word hope is so tricky is held in our motivation to act. What happens if this is as good as it gets—or if things get worse? What happens to our willingness to try when we see our dreams smashed against the rocks of reality again and again? Maybe there is something that has the power to motivate, the way hope does but without pinning our wellbeing on the accomplishment of our goal?

In the common usage of hope, we link hope with optimism and agency. Agency is the belief that our actions are meaningful and have an impact on our lives. In the Psychology of Hope Theory, “Hope is defined as the perceived capability to derive pathways to desired goals and motivate oneself via agency thinking to use those pathways” (Snyder, 2012). This definition is synonymous with taking action to create desired change, not contingent upon the success of those actions. In everyday speech when someone is without hope, we think of a pessimistic, depressed person, too despairing to make any effort to change a situation.

In Buddhism, there is the inherent understanding that all actions (kamma/karma) have unescapable meaning and consequence. Thoughts leading to action or inaction have meaning as well. We also understand that because of impermanence, we have the opportunity to create constant change. There is also the support of an ethical framework (sila) that gives us the foundation to take action with kindness and concern for the wellbeing of ourselves and others. Through the wisdom of mindful awareness, we learn what thoughts, words, and deeds lead to our happiness and which do not.

Forest monk and translator, Thanissaro Bhikkhu (2010) describes the unfolding events in our lives as “[T]ools for Awakening. With every moment we’re supplied with raw materials — some of them attractive, some of them not. Instead of embracing them in delight or throwing them away in disgust, we can learn how to use them to produce the keys that will unlock our prison doors.” The ability to see that all events as opportunities supplies us with an unending source of hope for our happiness and the happiness of others. This understanding embraces the everyday view of hope with the wisdom and guidance of the highest qualities of the mind, the Brahmaviharas.

We cultivate these heart qualities first in our own being. As they mature, they pervade our life and spread to each situation and life we encounter. They include the desire to bring universal friendliness (metta/maître), compassion, (karuna), the wish to relieve the suffering of all beings including ourselves, and the willingness to be happy at the good fortune of others (mudita) without jealousy or envy. The special sauce in the assemblage of the brahmaviharas is equanimity (upekkha), the wisdom which understands that it is possible to love and care without making it contingent upon success and having things change the way we would like them to. Equanimity gives us the ability to extend our compassion despite our intention of kindness being misinterpreted, unwelcomed, or discounted, despite the illness which does not improve, or the diagnosis staying the same.

When we come from this openhearted intention to bring about change to benefit all beings, we do not tether our motivation on success. True compassion and love know that in disappointment, these qualities are more necessary than ever. We can understand that disappointment and discouragement are critical arenas for engaging unflagging love, patience, equanimity, and above all compassion for the very feelings of failure or discouragement. If these feelings are not met with this response, they can become the ballast that destroys all our agency and willingness to try. When we can meet disappointment with wisdom and love, we transcend hope. This is the motivation that goes beyond beginnings and endings, beyond life and death. With love and wisdom, there is no question that there is the willingness to try, to try, and to try again.

May we all trust our light,

Celia

References:

Thanissaro, B. (2010, June 5). All about change. Access to Insight (BCBS Edition) Webpage. http://www.accesstoinsight.org/lib/authors/thanissaro/change.html.

Snyder, C. R. (2002) Hope theory: Rainbows in the mind. Psychological Inquiry, 13(4), 249-275. DOI: 10.1207/S15327965PLI1304_01

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Showing Up

October 16, 2018

Acceptance, Diligence, Equanimity, Meditation, Self-Kindness, Uncategorized

Mohegan Bluffs, Block Island. Photo Barbara Richardson

“As a species we should never underestimate our low tolerance for discomfort.”

“Transformation occurs only when we remember, breath by breath, year after year, to move towards our emotional distress without condemning or justifying our experience.”

“Attending to our present-moment mind is and body is a way of being tender towards self, towards other, and towards the world. This quality of attention is inherent in our ability to love.”

All quotes from Pema Chodron, The Places That Scare You: A Guide to Fearlessness in Difficult Times.

Dear Friends,

It’s a chilly October evening as I write this. Today I saw vermillion sugar maples and the rain is reminding me that in not so many weeks it will be snow. Recently, I’ve caught hold of some germs and found myself feeling shivery and waking up with painful sinuses. The cold symptoms don’t bother me much, but I do find it’s much harder to meditate when I am sick, breathing is harder and the body doesn’t feel so wide awake or keen on sitting. But I still do it even though my mind is not serene and my body would rather be in a bathtub. I am wondering why do we meditate? Isn’t it easier and more time effective to find a therapeutic medication to take the edge off the anxiety and give a little glow to our reality?

I know from experience that meditation is the way to come home to myself. Pema Chodron calls it, “learning to stay.” Human neurobiology is programmed to run away and avoid when things get difficult. There is a reason that flight is the first response to threat when the sympathetic nervous system is activated. If we just could get a snack, get more comfortable, find a really good ergonomically designed chair so my neck wouldn’t hurt, then I would be able to meditate. Meditation is the process of dropping in and befriending the self. When we practice meditation even on those days when it’s hard or simply another task to get through, we are doing two things. The first is the act of stilling the mind, beginning with calming the body. Secondly, the act of repetition encourages the body/mind to feel safe because we continue to show up despite external and internal conditions, when it’s cold and rainy and when the sun is shining.

If you’ve been meditating for a while, you probably have set a certain standard for your meditation and will discern if this was a “good” or “bad” meditation. We get particularly enamored of those good meditations when we feel solid and connected and the body is easy, tranquil, and strong. And we are equally dismissive of those meditations where the mind darts from the supermarket to the email we need to finish, to the necessity of finding a roofer, or maybe the dog has lymes disease, or the kid does, or I do and what about the neighbor who has a sign up endorsing the wrong political candidate…

What I have learned about these sub-par meditations is that they are testimonials to showing up for ourselves non-judgmentally just as we are. We are not trying to squeeze ourselves into the mold of a Buddha or saint. When we meditate, it’s an opportunity of connecting and accepting ourselves as we are in this moment. There is nothing to get rid of. The anxious mind is noted and seen with compassion—of course it’s busy; it’s afraid to get things wrong. We can be equally accepting of ourselves when we have a “good” meditation and recognize that there are innumerable conditions, our circumstance, our teachers, our physical health that all contributed to creating this transitory experience of calm and stillness.

When we meditate we also remember that we have a body. Most of us, most of the time, are disconnected from our bodies. If we are a person of color working in an historically white institution, a single mother trying to support her family and care for her young children, a person of non-conforming gender, someone who comes from a Muslim country and is categorized as a threat, or living with a chronic illness, all of these conditions create an internalized vigilance and an often unconscious fear which may manifest as physical tension. When we continue to show up and inquire about how we are, we encourage the body to relax. We engage with our un-recognized fear and actively let the body know it’s safe and let go of our vigilance even for a short amount of time.

How present we are with ourselves influences how relaxed and safe we feel. When we train to bring compassionate, loving acceptance to our situation, to the feelings in the body/mind we lay down the neural pathways that support continuing this activity of checking in, getting curious, and accepting what is. This week, I am saying, “this is how it is right now.” This phrase comes from meditation teacher and mother, Kalama Masters, who gives retreats on equanimity and impermanence. Showing up for ourselves regardless of our internal weather develops our trust in ourselves and our ability to befriend ourselves no matter what the outside conditions. Recently a friend told me, “there’s no good or bad meditation. There’s only meditation.” It’s about showing up, showing up, and showing up some more.

May we all trust our light,

Celia

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Finding the present moment to heal the anxious heart

July 16, 2018

Activism, Buddhism, Climate change, Detached Action, Equanimity, fearlessness, Healing our society, Mindfulness, Resting, Self-care, stopping, Thich Nhat Hanh, Uncategorized

Lilly and Queen Anne’s Lace. Photo by Celia

“The future is not even here yet. Plan for it, but do not waste your time worrying about it.
Worrying is worthless.
When you stop ruminating about what has already happened, when you stop worrying about what might never happen, then you will be in the present moment.
Then you will begin to experience joy in life.”

“Anxiety, the illness of our time, comes primarily from our inability to dwell in the present moment.”

“There is no enlightenment outside of daily life.”

All quotes from Thich Nhat Hanh

Dear Friends,

Today I read the Fourteen Mindfulness Trainings with friends. Each time I read them they arrive in my life in a different way. Today, I was struck by number seven, Dwelling Happily in the Present Moment and the message of cultivating our own happiness and joy through our attention to the present in the midst of an anxious world. The training begins:

“Aware that life is available only in the present moment, we are committed to training ourselves to live deeply each moment of daily life. We will try not to lose ourselves in dispersion or be carried away by regrets about the past, worries about the future, or craving, anger, or jealousy in the present. We will practice mindful breathing to be aware of what is happening in the here and the now.”

More and more I hear the words, “living in uncertain times” referring to climate change and the polarized political spheres worldwide. These issues are truly disturbing and vast, creating a myriad of responses, from social activism, outrage, to increased anxiety, or apathy. We hear about genocide and wars, the rate of species extinction, and children with automatic weapons. There’s upheaval in every sphere of the world if we look. So with all this going on, how can we not be carried away by fear and worries about the future? Wouldn’t fear, worry, and protection be a natural response to this uncontrollable world?

We can consider whether the world actually is more unpredictable than it used to be? Is there more worry in a life than there was in the time of the Buddha, Jesus, or Muhammed when a cut finger could result in death from infection? There has always been uncertainty. There have always been disasters and the threat of loss. It may seem irresponsible to attempt to be happy in the unfolding turmoil, but our happiness and solidity are not to be mistaken for denial of indifference. Living happily, attending to what we are engaging in at the present moment is the way to stay with our intention to care and to give longevity to our actions. And, present moment awareness, paying attention to what is happening in me and around me right now, is the medicine to heal the anxiety of worry. We believe we can solve the problems of a future that has not yet arrived and spend our time bracing ourselves for eventualities that may never happen. If our minds are constantly spinning about what might happen, we will end up exhausted and miss the opportunities that exist right in from of us.

Attending to the present moments and what is unfolding in and around us is the best way to take care of the future. We have an instinct to muscle through unpleasantness until it all gets sorted out. We don’t want to stop and be with what is happening at this moment because it is painful. The imaginary future moments, when the world has been saved, or a different administration is elected, sound much better and much more relaxing—that’s when I’ll relax. I can’t afford to let my guard down now.

This habit of leaning into the future is just like all habits, something that increases with use. When we push off contentment and the possibility of happiness, thus we train our minds. We won’t be able to stop and smell the roses in the future, because we are so good at ignoring the roses in the present. We can give ourselves permission to stay with our own range of awareness and our ability to take care of what is arising right here and now from washing the dishes to creating a resistance movement. Whatever we engage in, we can be present for it fully and find that in doing so, there is no space left for the worry to seep in.

When we are immersed in our lives, we honor ourselves and our work through our own attention. We can be grateful for our own commitments, our good hearts, and give ourselves the time and attention to follow through on what we do. In this way, we save ourselves from worry and speculation and we can be truly useful and a source of joy right here and now.

May we all trust our light,

Celia

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Liberate Your Happiness

June 11, 2018

Brahamaviharas, Buddhism, Detached Action, Equanimity, Happiness, Meditation, Mindfulness, Uncategorized

June Peonies. Photo by Celia

“Equanimity means to let go, not to abandon.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh

“Even a happy life cannot be without a measure of darkness, and the word happy would lose its meaning if it were not balanced by sadness. It is far better to take things as they come along with patience and equanimity.” ~ Carl Jung

“If I did not think this path and its fruition were possible for you, I would not ask it of you. Because I know the path of immeasurable freedom is possible for you, therefore I ask it of you.” ~ The Buddha

Dear Friends,

This week I spoke with a woman was going through a very difficult time with her young adult daughter. She said that her happiness was wholly dependent upon her daughter’s wellbeing. If her daughter was in crisis, her day was shattered. Realistically, we cannot expect that our children won’t have difficulties or real crises in their lifetimes. We all face the pain of being present with loved ones who suffer. If we do not have children, we have parents, partners, and assorted pets that all will suffer, get sick, and one day be separated from us, but as practitioners we have a secret weapon to keep us balanced and resilient in the midst of change, distress, and uncontrollable outcomes, it’s the practice of equanimity.

Equanimity is one of the Brahmavihāras, the highest abodes, or as meditation teacher Sharon Salzberg calls them, “our best homes.” Equanimity is often translated as balance or a spacious stillness of the mind and heart. With practice, equanimity can help soften the heart that contracts in fear and pain. It can lead to peace in the midst of the world unfolding in the way it does, not in the way we would like. It can help us stop struggling against what is and in acceptance, enable us to take actions that are rooted in wise and loving intention. Equanimity is the raft that can save us from sinking in the turbulent water of stress and hopelessness.

Thich Nhat Hanh (1998) describes equanimity as “nonattachment, non-discrimination, even-mindedness, or letting go” (p. 174). Nonattachment means that the openhearted caring and compassion is not reserved for times of success, or when things are easy and free from struggle. Equanimity does not discriminate between the self and the other. It creates a base of stability from which we can include all beings, all emotions, and all moments into our conservation of care, leaving nothing out. Equanimity increases our capacity to tolerate what is difficult and painful without letting conditions we cannot control overwhelm us.

The world is made of innumerable changing situations and we may understand intellectually that very little is in our control, yet there is resistance and struggle when we encounter events and experiences that make us and others suffer. Witnessing those we love in distress can be excruciating when we believe we are responsible for their happiness and suffering. We may believe if we exert ourselves, or find that just right combination of ingredients, we have the power to make someone else change, to stop being depressed, to seek medical treatment, or to stop engaging in harmful acts. We are attached to the outcome, to the health and wellbeing of another. When we are enmeshed in the belief that we can only be happy when others are free from pain, we give away our power to create our own happiness and peace.

Letting go of control and not taking responsibility for the thoughts, and actions of others and not accepting the responsibility for the consequences of these thoughts and actions may seem cold and indifferent, especially for a parent who is supposed to be loving and continually sacrifice for their children. Sacrifice that comes from a spacious calm heart contains the intention of love, but grasping onto fixing and changing another is rooted in fear and aversion. It is running from what is so painful to tolerate. True equanimity leads with the heart, includes the self and the other without discriminating between the two.

Resignation and the coldness of not caring are shallow stand-ins for real equanimity. Indifference or numbing to pain is the near enemy of equanimity, while the far enemy is clinging and attachment. Equanimity gives space and a wide perspective. It understands impermanence and that nothing stays the same. Equanimity knows the nature of suffering and that no one is immune. I describe equanimity as loving and allowing. We stay with the intention of care and love, but we open to the way things are and the uncontrollable reality of living in a vulnerable human body.

Equanimity gives us balance and evenness when we encounter the loka dhamma, The Eight Worldly Winds, or The Vicissitudes. These are four pairs of conditions we meet repeatedly during our lifetime: pleasure and pain, gain and loss, fame and disrepute, praise and blame. When we can let go of attachment to wanting only the pleasure, gain, fame, and praise and learn to stay still when we encounter the unwanted pain, loss, disrepute, and blame, we liberate our happiness from dependence upon the wildly fluctuating conditions of the world.

Practicing equanimity creates boundaries. We understand that our jurisdiction does not extend to others, no matter how much we want it too. We remain present, loving, and open hearted, but we are not bound to the success or failure, the health, and happiness of another. To practice equanimity meditation we come into stillness and find the place of wholeness and limitless capacity that resides in us all. From the ground of mindful, loving presence we envision our loved one who suffers. Holding both ourselves and the other with tenderness, we may repeat the traditional equanimity phrase from Sharon Salzburg’s (1995) book, Loving Kindness: The Revolution Art of Happiness: “All beings are the owners of their kamma. There happiness and unhappiness depend upon their actions, not upon my wishes for them” (p. 152). More modern phrases include “May we all accept things as they are. May we be undisturbed by the comings and goings of events. I will care for you, but I cannot keep you from suffering. I wish you happiness, but cannot make your choices for you” (Salzberg, p. 152). And an insightful phrase from Buddhist monk, Ajahn Sumedho is, “Right now, it’s like this for me” (or for you).

Meditation teacher Christina Feldman (2017) offers some beautiful equanimity phrases in her book, Boundless Heart: The Buddhist Path of Kindness, Compassion, Joy, and Equanimity. “May I embrace change with stillness and calm. May I deeply accept this moment as it is. May my home be a balance of wisdom and spaciousness” (Feldman, p. 117). “You are the parent of the choices you make and their outcomes and I cannot make those choices for you. May I rest in care and stillness in the midst of sorrow” (Feldman, p. 126-127).

Spirit Rock founder Jack Kornfield offers, “May I be balanced. May I be at peace. May I learn to see the arising and passing of all things with equanimity and balance. May I be open and balanced and peaceful.” An 18^th Century Singhalese blessing translated by Buddhist scholar John Peacock guides readers to a place of understanding of what is ours and what is not:

“Life is but a play of joy and sorrow

May I remain unshaken by life’s rise and fall

I care for you deeply

But you are the parent of your acts and their fruit

And sadly I cannot protect you from distress” ( Feldman, p.125).

You may consider spending the week with one phrase that resonates with you or create your own equanimity phrase.

Remaining equanimous, rooted in kindness and the intention to relieve suffering while another is in pain, is an advanced practice. Make no mistake, this is the heavy lifting we train for. Making our home in equanimity we can learn to unclench our expectations and release ourselves from the imprisonment of suffering, theirs and ours. Cultivating equanimity is the way to stay present with the one who is suffering without becoming overwhelmed and turning away. This is what stretches our capacity and gives us the solidity of a mountain to meet all of our joy and all of our sorrow with an easy heart.

May we all trust our light,

Celia

Click on this link for an update on Thay’s health from Sister Chan Khong’s interview in Lion’s Roar. He’s Getting Stronger Every Day.

Resources:

Feldman, C. (2017). Boundless heart: The buddhist path of kindness, compassion, joy, and

equanimity. Boulder, CO: Shambala.

Hanh, T. N. (1998). The heart of the buddha’s teachings: Transforming suffering into peace, joy,

and liberation. New York, NY: Broadway.

Salzberg, S. (1995). Loving kindness: The revolutionary art of happiness. Boston: Shambala.

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Taking Care of Ourselves to Care for Others

May 28, 2018

Bodhisattva Vow, Buddhism, Equanimity, Gift to self, Healing our society, Intention, Mindfulness, Relationship, Self-care, Uncategorized

Tire Shop, 10th Ave. NYC. Photo by Celia

“Looking after oneself, one looks after others.

“Looking after others, one looks after oneself.”

~Gotama Buddha, SN 47:19

“One should not give up one’s own welfare,

Even for the sake of much welfare of others”

~Gotama Buddha, AN 49:5

“If one is drowning oneself and wishes to rescue someone else who is drowning,

that is impossible”

~ Gotama Buddha, Sallekha Sutta

Dear Friends,

As children of aging parents, parents of children, pet owners, and citizens of a society that seems to be galloping towards calamity, we are called upon to care for others. The Bodhisattva vow, an integral part of Zen and Mahayana Buddhism, stresses the importance of being of service, even deferring our own spiritual liberation until all beings are free from suffering. In the Brahmavihāra practice, we cultivate the mind states of care, compassion, joy, and equanimity for all beings. The Buddha asks us to stretch beyond our circle of ease and offer our care, love, and kindness to all beings, with no discrimination. That is a big ask and requires a lot of practice and training to shift from our protective and defensive evolutionary conditioning to an unlimited mind of love. While we may aspire to this openhearted state of selfless caring, no one is a boundless well of giving. There may be a part of us that asks, “what about me?” We all need replenishing and abundant self-care to be able to care for others.

In early Buddhist teachings, this idea of self-care is clear and direct. In the Aṅguttara-nikāya 4:95, translated by Buddhist monk and scholar, Anālayo, the Buddha describes four types of practitioners: one who helps themselves without helping another, one who helps another without helping oneself, one who aids neither self not other, and one who helps both self and other. The Buddha ranks these four approaches. Not surprisingly, one who helps neither self nor other is the “most inferior person” (A. N. 4:95, Anālayo, trans. 2015, p. 18). The person who helps another without helping oneself is superior to that and higher than that is one who helps themselves without helping another! The one who is “supreme,” predictably, is one who aids both self and other ((A. N. 4:95, Anālayo, trans. 2015, p. 18). Thus, merit is earned as one progresses on a spiritual path that includes both self and other.

As practitioners, we cannot advise others to practice purification if we are not walking that path ourselves. In order to have any type of transformation of suffering, we must attend to purifying our own hearts and minds first. As legendary Vipassana teacher, S. N. Goenka said repeatedly, “You have to work out your own salvation.” When we understand how to cultivate, equanimity, and joy in our own life and practice, we will have a strong foundation to be available and present for others, even when things get tough. If we do not take care of our own stability, we offer an unsteady footing for those who rely on us.

A popular parable from the Buddhist canon is the Sedaka Sutta: The Bamboo Acrobat. The Buddha tells of a team of acrobats, a master and his young assistant, Medakathalika, sometimes referred to as his granddaughter. The older acrobat perches atop a bamboo pole and Medakathalika climbs up the pole and balances upon the master’s shoulders. The master tells Medakathalika that they will need to take care of each other in order to keep safe in their act and make a living. The young assistant has another view and tells the bamboo acrobat, “That will not do at all, master! You look after yourself, master, and I will look after myself. Thus with each of us looking after ourselves, guarding ourselves, we’ll show off our craft, receive some payment, and safely climb down from the bamboo pole. That’s the right way to do it!” (SN 47:19, Olendszi, trans., 2013). Young Medakathalika understands that each person is responsible for their own unwavering stability of mind and that clarity and focus directly influences others we interact with.

The Buddha goes on to describe how we care for ourselves in order to care for others and how to care for others in order to care for ourselves. “And how does one look after others by looking after oneself? By practicing (mindfulness), by developing (it), by doing (it) a lot. And how does one look after oneself by looking after others? By patience, by non-harming, by loving kindness, by caring (for others). (Thus) looking after oneself, one looks after others; and looking after others, one looks after oneself” (SN 47:19, Olendszi, trans., 2013). Leaving no one out, we extend this patience, gentleness, and goodwill towards ourselves. Being considerate and non-harming may mean we do not do all the things we believe we should, but includes those that help us stay balanced and peaceful.

The paradox of caring for others to care for ourselves involves the cultivation of a deep practice of kindness and gentleness to remove the hearts’ obstacles of hatred, conditional love, disapproval, and intolerance. Practicing in this way opens up the heart space and we reside in what Buddhists call the bliss of blamelessness. This joy and open-heartedness is the reward of self-care that allows for delight in our own goodness and fills up the emptiness and dissatisfaction that may impede caring for all beings. When we practice living a life of integrity and dedicate ourselves wholeheartedly to being a presence of love and healing we are caring for and protecting ourselves, our community, and all beings everywhere.

May we all trust our light,

Celia

Resources

Anālayo (2015). Compassion and emptiness in early buddhist meditation. Cambridge, UK: Windhorse.

Olendzki, A. trans. (2013). Sedaka sutta: The bamboo acrobat (SN 47.19). Access to Insight (BCBS Edition). Retrieved from: http://www.accesstoinsight.org/tipitaka/sn/sn47/sn47.019.olen.html .

1 comment on Taking Care of Ourselves to Care for Others
Feeding our Intentions

January 22, 2018

Activism, Detached Action, Dharma, Equanimity, Friendship, Happiness, Happiness habit, Healing our society, Healing Ourselves, interbeing, joy, Mindfulness, Sangha, Thich Nhat Hanh

Making mindful steps with Sangha in Hartford, CT

“May I know how to nourish the seeds of joy in myself every day.

May he/she know how to nourish the seeds of joy in him/herself every day.

May they know how to nourish the seeds of joy in themselves every day.

May I be able to live fresh, solid, and free.

May he/she be able to live fresh, solid, and free.

May they be able to live fresh, solid, and free.

May I be free from attachment and aversion, but not be indifferent.

May he/she be free from attachment and aversion, but not be indifferent.

May they be free from attachment and aversion, but not be indifferent.”

~ Thich Nhat Hanh

“It helps to remember that our spiritual practice is not about accomplishing anything—not about winning or losing—but about ceasing to struggle and relaxing as it is.”

~ Pema Chödrön, The Pocket Pema Chodron

“Choose to be optimistic, it feels better.”

~ H.H. the 14^th Dalai Lama

Dear Friends,

I’m hoping you are well and nourishing the best and most joyful parts of yourselves. Yesterday I was at the Women’s march in Hartford, CT. An impressive group of engaged citizens showed up to be visible dissenters from the rhetoric of scarcity, fear, and exclusion that is coming from the present U.S. administration.

A friend I walked with commented on how she felt re-energized during the march and it gave her hope and strength to keep on writing letters, making phone calls, and letting her voice be heard. The march and all the folks present fed the commitment to continue along the path of peaceful protection for the most vulnerable members of our planet, and for the planet herself.

The Buddha is recorded as saying, “All beings subsist on nutriment.” This includes our volition, our desire. The Buddha taught for over forty years. Speaking as a pre-enlightened being, that’s a long time to do anything, unless satisfaction and nourishment bring encouragement to keep going. The Buddha established a sangha of ten thousand bhikkhus; he had many enlightened students and taught kings. He also experienced great trials. His cousin Devadatta spread rumors about him, left the sangha and began his own, taking half of the Buddha’s followers. He tried to have the Buddha assassinated by a hired killer and an enraged bull elephant. Devadatta had a woman’s murdered body buried on the sangha’s grounds to incriminate the Buddha and his followers. The discovery of the buried woman caused the monastics to be looked upon as violent, hypocritical, sexual predators. The Buddha and his followers were eventually exonerated but endured shame and distrust from the lay community that supported them.

So, what kept the Buddha going through all these tribulations? He possessed the paramita, or perfection of equanimity. He worked to free all beings from suffering and understood that his misfortunes or perceived successes were not personal. They were a continuation of the thoughts, words, and deeds of many lifetimes and of the collective community he inhabited. He didn’t get depressed because his work bore no fruit. He didn’t get puffed up and demand a better parking spot or refuse to eat what was offered because he taught royalty and had people travel hundreds of miles for his teachings.

He did what he did because he knew that the betterment of the planet and humankind was not something that could be abandoned. It was part of his life as much as breathing and walking. It was not optional. Nor is it work that is finished in one’s lifetime. Humanity has spent a very long time getting to where it is right now, balanced on the cusp of war and possible irreversible damage to our food, air, and water source, this Earth. As practitioners who have not reached the perfection of equanimity, we could use some nourishment and encouragement to keep going.

Thich Nhat Hanh reminds us that we need to cultivate our happiness so we will be able to be with our personal and collective difficulties. Happiness and contentment are a necessary nutriment for continuing to care. If we spend all our time taking care of others, we will run aground, lose our health, energy, and commitment. In No Mud, No Lotus, Thây writes, “Happiness is impermanent, like everything else. In order for happiness to be extended and renewed, you have to learn how to feed your happiness. Nothing can survive without food, including happiness; your happiness can die if you don’t know how to nourish it. If you cut a flower but you don’t put it in some water, the flower will wilt in a few hours.” Being in a loving community nourished our hearts and minds and reminds us that we are part of something larger than ourselves. Nourishing the insight that we are all one family, is essential for us to continue to feel unified and that our contributions make a difference, even if they seem like the smallest of gestures. What we all do matters.

This week, I am asking the question, what nourishes my happiness and connection? What keeps my caring alive and reminds me that kindness, no matter how small is the way out? Make your own inquiry. What nourishes your connection to this world and helps feed your bodhisattva vow to free all beings from suffering? What is the food that brings you into a loving state? So far, I’ve found that when I practice loving, with a smile, an acknowledgment, a helping gesture—it all comes back to me as more love, from strangers who are not strange, but parts of myself I never knew before.

May we all trust our light,

Celia

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