The Five Remembrances (Thich Nhat Hahn, trans.)
I am of the nature to grow old. There is no way to escape growing old.
I am of the nature to have ill health. There is no way to escape ill health.
I am of the nature to die. There is no way to escape death.
All that is dear to me and everyone I love are of the nature to change. There is no way to escape being separated from them.
My actions are my only true belongings. I cannot escape the consequences of my actions. My actions are the ground upon which I stand.
Dear Friends,
We are all of the nature to be sick, that was my teaching this week. This was an especially bad flu season and I had been congratulating myself on escaping the influx of nasty ailments this year. There was some pride that my immunity had taken me into spring without so much as a head cold, but this week, my humanity caught up with me. Not only did I get sick, but all other members of my family were sick, which meant that I couldn’t actually act like a sick person. I used the experience to work with the intention to bring compassion into all moments of life.
The first obstacle to compassion is the troubling doubt that others who have chronic pain and serious diseases are more worthy of sympathy and my chills and sinus pressure are really baby stuff. There’s the habitual tendency to dismiss our own suffering because others have it worse. We each have a body that we are entrusted to care for and keep as well as possible. When my body is sending me messages that it needs attention it is not wise or kind to override it and ignore. This habit of shutting out the body sets up the pattern of distrust and we parcel out compassion only to the most deserving and innocent as if there’s a compassion test we must pass….am I truly worthy? Am I miserable enough? Are there others who are worse off? Maybe this is just a tiny thing? Of course! The answer is yes to it all. There are always those who have more suffering than we do and those who have less. It is not the degree of suffering that makes one worthy of compassion, self-compassion is an unremitting act of generosity. It is the ability to bring compassion into all areas of life, from the papercut to stage four cancer—we are taught to bring our care and kindness to hold all of what arises. Some key elements that stand out for me are acceptance, choice, capacity, impermanence, and universality.
When we bring acceptance to our body and mind that is suffering, we stop resisting, the body softens and there is less struggle. There is still discomfort, but not the added pressure to deny our experience. When I relaxed and gave up the fight to “feel normal,” I could get curious about what was arising, the heaviness in the eyes, the skin rippling chills, the pressure beneath the cheekbones, the cloudy feeling that threatened to tumble over my forehead and the mask of sleepiness that pressed in on me.
As I went about my days, driving to presentations, speaking to co-workers, caring for animals and family members, I remembered that even though I felt sick, it was my choice to stay vertical and take care of others. Respecting that my capacity was diminished, I came home early and let myself feel what was happening in the body. I told myself that this was suffering and that we all suffer. It is part of life; we all get sick. I recognized the impermanence of this moment, which is inherent in all moments, not just those that grab our attention because they are unpleasant. And I recognized the wisdom in taking care of myself.
Sickness is a great equalizer and reminds us that although we may believe we are the stories of self we weave, we are our achievements, our careers, our thought and ideologies, the reality of living in an undeniably shifting state, one that we do not control, is a wake up to the nature of how things really are. In sickness, there is also the tendency to fall into fear, imagining the worst possible future and outcome. In the space of seconds, a head cold becomes the flu. I’m hospitalized, unconscious. My dogs don’t get fed and perish from starvation while I’m in the intensive care ward, or maybe it’s neurological Lymes disease and I will never understand when to use affect or effect correctly. This type of thinking is called papancha, or mental proliferation that creates a further story with me as the star. Allowing myself to be pulled into the future takes me away from the reality of this changing state.
When we ascribe a permanent state to an impermanent situation we live in a delusion. When we label ourselves sickly or healthy, we also put a permanent label on a condition that is constantly shifting. Buddhist scholar Andrew Olendzki (2010) writes, “The self is a flawed strategy, born of ignorance, nurtured by craving, and perpetuated by endless moments of grasping in which we pull towards us what we like to consider part of ourselves and push away what don’t like” (pp. 135-136). If we label ourselves as sickly, or flawed, what are we believing? What is the conditioning that we are perpetuating and why? What is the reward for thinking in these terms? When we keep a notion of ourselves alive, we do so for a reason. My “superior immunity” label was enjoyable. It gave me a false sense of safety and invulnerability. Letting go of that and recognizing that I, just like 100 % of bodies, will get sick. With luck, I will age and eventually die. Understanding the impartiality of this body and illness gives me humility and exercises the muscle of compassion for myself and for all of us who get allergies, head colds, cancer, for all of us who suffer.
Although, I hope you aren’t sick—if you are so fortunate to have this learning opportunity, try some acceptance and curiosity. How is your body and your mind? Can you bring your care to the unpleasant without pushing it away and leaning into the future? Can you find a bit of ease even in the painful? Recognizing that the state is impermanent can lead to equanimity and balance. Knowing that there is sickness all over the world, we include all those who are in pain and feel hopeless in the wish for ourselves and all beings to be free from suffering and the roots of suffering.
May we all trust our light,
Celia
Olendszki, A. (2010). Unlimiting mind: The radically experimental psychology of buddhism. Somerville, MA: Wisdom.