Category: Transforming emotions

What to do about shame?

December 10, 2023

Transforming emotions, Uncategorized

I hate this feeling. Shame. I do not feel open and accepting or like meeting shame. I mean who welcomes shame? It is painful. Like today, when I had an unpleasant interaction and someone is not liking me. More than not liking me, they are avoiding me and thinking I am unwoke slime.

It doesn’t help much to think that any time we react, it’s more about what’s in me than the other person, so transitively, their reaction reflects their needs. My reaction comes from a healthy dose of verbal abuse in my childhood. There’s that old fear of my father being enraged and saying cutting words I thought my brothers and sisters, and even the whole big wide world, would believe. My shame said he was right, and I was all those things. If I knew more or was better, he wouldn’t be angry.

Shame only happens in a relationship when there is a sense I’ve damaged our connection. I’ve done something to make someone stop loving or including me. I’ve hurt my reputation, and I am disconnected. In short, I am unlovable, at least by that person or group.

“It’s not the truth, just because someone else thinks it.” I remind that young, scared part of me that is relieved to hear that. And there is also that contingent self-esteem that relies on the good opinion of others and is so easily bruised when we fall out with someone. It is hard to esteem myself and think well of myself when someone judges and blames me–even if they don’t understand me or my motives. It still smarts.

As I learn again and again, it’s about the ability to see what is happening in me, not to put the responsibility to care for this pain out into the world but to care for it myself. So what does caring for myself mean? Or look like?

My Shame Accompaniment:

For me, it means that I first stop and locate the emotion of shame. Today, it’s in the center of my chest like a pulling inward, collapsing on itself.

Then I breathe with this feeling, letting it know I care about this shame. I care about this sensitive, tender heart. I can help teach this feeling to breathe and let it know it is accompanied.

When there’s more calm, I ask this shame, “What are you afraid of?” Today, the shame is afraid that others won’t like me either, and I will lose my community. Everyone will cancel me. “Of course you’re scared. You want to be seen and valued just as you are.”

I wonder if I can see and value myself, just as I am when someone is angry with me. “Even though one person is upset, I still love you, honey. I’ve got you.” And I stay with that intention to be that warm presence of care for myself.

There’s a shifting, and I notice shame has faded and sadness is here. I listen, then ask, “What do you need from me, my sadness?” I hear the longing for gentleness, for safety. I can hold those emotions with gentleness in a safe place. I have an imaginary island I visit with my shame and sadness where we can just be beneath the White Pines in this cool, soft moss garden, a whole island covered in moss.

I ask if there’s more I need to know and hear, “Remember, you are grown. You have trained to mediate disputes. You can drive a car. You have people who think you are lovable and sometimes even wise.” Hmm. This seems like new information to that shamed and sad part. I am not seven? What? I am not helpless and won’t kick myself out of my heart because someone has their own feelings?

When I take the time to actively connect with this emotion of shame and let it know that no matter what happens, I am there for myself. Coming back to painful emotions helps me heal. It also helps me be an adult–someone who has learned how to heal from the past, drop by drop in the present moment.

No comments on What to do about shame?
The Trigger of Loneliness

September 9, 2019

#training the mind, Choice, Dependent origination, Loneliness, Transforming emotions, Uncategorized

Ancestor Altar. Photo by Celia

“Nothing so needs reforming as other people’s habits.” ~ Mark Twain

“I learned to be with myself more rather than avoiding myself with limiting habits; I started to be aware of my feelings more, rather than numb them.” ~Judith Wright

“We cannot, in a moment, get rid of the habits of a lifetime.” ~ Mahatma Gandhi

“Whenever you take a step forward, you are bound to disturb something.”

~Indira Gandhi

Dear friends,

Last month I met a grandmother from Tanzania who was visiting my neighbor. It was Mama Alice’s first time in the US, and she was curious and discomforted noticing that families live separately, with only two or four people and some with only one inhabitant, in big houses. The day before she left for the U.S., she had lunch with all her 500 friends after church. These are 500 living, breathing individuals, not Facebook friends. Mama Alice asked why do all these Americans live alone and how do people take care of each other? My answer was that this is a nation of individualism and our culture values independence, achievement, wealth, and power above caring for each other. The painful side of our focus on the individual above the collective is that we are one of the loneliest and most isolated societies in the history of the world.

One of the greatest ills in our technological society is the disease of loneliness. A study from Dublin Ireland interviewed 1,299 elderly participants and found that 70% of those interviewed were lonely, hopeless and depressed. Differing surveys report, levels of 42% to 70% of the Americans population feels alone. The risks of loneliness are especially prevalent among older adults and…young people. Loneliness does physical and mental damage, in fact, research demonstrates that the effects of loneliness increase the risk of heart attack by 29%. Being lonely is associated with a weakened immune system, heart disease, lowered happiness, increased risk for type two diabetes, and depression.

Loneliness is something that all beings feel. It is often associated with shame since if we are lonely, it means that somehow, we aren’t unlovable or aren’t interesting enough to warrant social connection. When we are lonely, we’re right back in middle-school, picked last for the team, having to sit alone at lunch, or being the one not invited to parties—no valentines on our desk. It is a deeply painful experience and the element of shame inherent in loneliness can quickly remove our sense of agency, the belief that our actions and intentions matter. Despair is the greatest predictor of depression and loneliness and shame are perfect catalysts for depression. As we know in depression, we cannot see a way out and we may become sunk and helpless due to these contributing factors.

On the night the Buddha became enlightened he was able to discern the system of Dependent Origination or the teaching that this happens because that happens. All things rest on each other. Our conditioning, our habits, the karma from our past life and the last minute are all creating this present moment. The Buddha pointed to contact as the cause for the pleasant, neutral, or unpleasant feelings. If we encounter disappointment and isolation during our day, our friend cancels on us, someone doesn’t call back, we may start to feel alone, helpless, or abandoned. Our emotions and moods lead us to behaviors, some of these move us in the direction of happiness and wellbeing, and some of our reactions triggered by circumstance, lead to painful adaptations and protective habits that do not serve us and do not lead to happiness. We enact our habits of surfing the web, numbing out by watching TV, shopping, eating when we aren’t hungry, falling into depression, sobbing—and we become what we think and do. When we grab hold of these feelings and blend with them—we become something or someone. We take birth as a depressed person, a lonely person, a rejected or abandoned person instead of a person having an experience of loneliness, or the experience of suffering.

A teaching that comes from the fifth Century Buddhist teacher Vasubandhu is that all suffering comes from supporting causes. This pain of suffering seems like something negative, but when we see it with Right View, it becomes the catalyst for essential growth. It is this ability to see what causes pain, and the ability to move away from the choices we make that cause more pain, that creates the path to happiness. This is the essential teaching of the Buddha who said, I teach only suffering and the end of suffering.

The teaching of the Buddha offers us enough space to look deeply and compassionately at our habits and actions that lead to happy or unhappy destinations. The primary teaching is “Stress should be known. The cause by which stress comes into play should be known. The diversity in stress should be known. The result of stress should be known. The cessation of stress should be known. The path of practice for the cessation of stress should be known” (AN 6.63 PTS: Nibbedhika Sutta: Penetrative. Trans Thanissaro Bhikkhu,1997). The causes of stress or afflictive emotions comes through sense contact–what we see, hear, smell, taste, touch, and think. When we follow our day and attend to what we have contacted in our thoughts, our visual and auditory exposure, even what we eat and wear on our bodies, we can trace the roots of our suffering and discomfort. It takes Right View for us to be able to see how these contacts contribute to the stirring of emotions or thought patterns.

When we encounter our suffering, especially our loneliness, we may find it threatens to swallow us and triggers us to once again do the things that lead to more pain. But even knowing that we are suffering and seeing suffering as suffering is a source of celebration. The part of us that knows we are lonely is not lonely. The part of us that discerns what leads to happiness and unhappiness is not helpless, not unhappy. When we are able to know that this too is suffering, we are already on the path to happiness. When we recognize that our habits are ways we try to soothe and care for these emotions, we can recognize choice. We do not have to do what we have always done and take birth as the Netflix binge-watcher, or a secret eater. We can notice that we are having an experience of loneliness and move towards creating conditions that support connection, belonging, and welcome in our lives. Even when we get stuck or forget and repeat our same patterns, knowing that our actions are leading to suffering is the beginning of wisdom.

May we all trust our light,

Celia

I am offering a class in Litchfield, CT at Wisdom House Retreat Center in October focusing on the teaching of Equanimity and how it can support us during caregiving. There’s also a restorative weekend retreat at the beginning of November. For more information, please click on the links.

https://www.wisdomhouse.org/program-calendar/2019/10/5/equanimity-and-buddhist-wisdom-for-caregivers

https://www.wisdomhouse.org/program-calendar/2019/11/1/caring-for-ourselves-while-we-care-for-others-self-care-practices-and-meditation-retreat-to-support-caregivers

2 comments on The Trigger of Loneliness
Is This a Happy Moment?

September 2, 2019

Acceptance, compassion, suffering, Things as they are, Transforming emotions, Uncategorized

Paper wasp’s nest, photo by R. Errichetti

“Those who are without compassion cannot see what is seen with the eyes of compassion.”

“Do not avoid contact with suffering or close your eyes before suffering. Do not lose awareness of the existence of suffering in the life of the world. Find ways to be with those who are suffering by all means, including personal contact and visits, images, sounds. By such means, awaken yourself and others to the reality of suffering in the world.”

“We need to be aware of the suffering, but retain our clarity, calmness and strength so we can help transform the situation.”

~ All quotes by Thich Nhat Hanh

Dear friends,

I hope you are enjoying some happiness this Holiday weekend. Here in CT, the weather is gloriously fresh, the air is dry, and the sun is shining. For me right now, no one in my life is acute distress—no friends, pets, or loved ones are in deep or unremitting suffering, so life is pretty sweet. Maybe that’s setting the bar a bit low, but contentment is the opposite of craving and when we can settle into the sweet and uncomplicated moments of life, we’ve ended our own suffering.

Speaking of suffering, I’d like to address something that comes up for those on spiritual paths. It disguises itself as diligence but is actually a way to keep our suffering and self-criticism alive and use our practice to do more violence to ourselves. In the past few weeks, I’ve encountered folks in distress because of health difficulties, extreme uncertainty, and past traumatic issues that continue to arise. Each person expressed dismay that their practice wasn’t strong enough to support them in finding joy and equanimity during these hard times and to be happy in the midst of suffering. These folks feel that they are doing something wrong because they feel sad, confused, or thrown off balance by life’s events.

My heart sinks when I hear people expressing that their acknowledgment of pain is somehow off-limits. There’s the belief that those who are spiritually evolved don’t feel many feelings besides happiness. We imagine that if we were better at our practice, we would be beyond pain and stoically smiling through all the unpredictable issues life throws at us. I wish I were one of those people who have cut the fetters to the view of self and only feel joy and happiness—but I am not, and I am guessing that most of us are not arahants either. Our most venerable teachers must know and understand the suffering inherent in life to be able to help us transcend our own suffering.

The early life of the Buddha describes him as a small child sitting beneath the Rose apple tree seeing the pain of living beings. When a spring field was plowed, he looked at the bodies of the dead and mangled insects trampled by the horse and cut by the plow, being eaten by birds and other living beings, and felt deep compassion and sadness for the pain and loss of their lives. He was able to come home to himself and meditate to be stable in the presence of this suffering. When we dampen our ability to feel our sadness, we also dampen the ability to know our compassion and our own stability that leads to happiness. This belief in stoicism and cutting off from knowing suffering is an example of Thich Nhat Hanh’s message of “present moment, wonderful moment,” grasped the wrong way and used as a shield to deflect our own compassion from ourselves.

When we visit our mother in a nursing home and she cannot recognize us any longer, that is not a happy moment, nor is receiving the news our loved one has a serious diagnosis, or that our child will be born with a physical anomaly. When our middle-aged spouse dies after a short illness, these are not wonderful moments no matter how long we’ve been meditating and practicing for. The first Noble Truth—one of the truths that ennoble us, is that suffering exists. Dukkha [stress, dissatisfaction, undependability, pain, illbeing] is a part of life.

The Buddha described three types of dukkha, the first Dukkha dukkhataa is the suffering of living in a body that will get hungry, cold, tired, sick, and ultimately stop working. The second Sanakaara dukkhataa is the suffering of impermanence, all things change and are inconstant and will need maintenance. The new Mercedes and the most lovely oak tree, will both change with conditions and need care and attention to continue to function over time. The third is the Viparanaama dukkhataa is the inconsistency of the pleasant. We don’t like when the good times cease and wish things were different and much more satisfying. This is the dukkha that leads us to chase after pleasure and can lead to addictions—trying to get back to that perfect feeling when we first…drank that drink, smoked that smoke, fell in love, ate that food, took that drug, any and all of those.

The Buddha was a realist and let us know that some moments, to use the teenage vernacular, really suck. His teaching urged us to know suffering, to understand it—not to deny it is painful and unpleasant. And when we are faced with these moments, denying that we are in pain or expecting ourselves to be happy adds another arrow of suffering to our situation. We cannot selectively feel our feelings. When we suppress our pain, we also lose connection with our happiness. When we know we are suffering, we are already on the path towards relieving it because just like first responders, we can learn how to help ourselves in any crisis. We can become our own healing, compassionate presence of care at each moment.

Thich Nhat Hanh knows about suffering and the end of suffering, so how do these gathas [practice poems] actually awaken us to what is wonderful and happy? In 2013, Thay led a retreat called, The Art of Suffering, where he taught exclusively about how to be with suffering. How to be close to ourselves at each moment without running into distraction and looking for a pill or potion to take away our unhappiness. The ability to know we are suffering and to meet the moment with kindness and true self-empathy is a source of happiness. It is a skill that we develop—the skill to keep showing up and caring for this life and our tender feeling heart at all moments.

Knowing when things are bad when we are in pain and not denying it but caring for our own experience means that all moments have the capability to be wonderful because of our efforts—not because they are wanted or pain-free. Happiness comes when we learn to stand in the midst of our pain and open our hearts to it and know we can be there for this too. It is recognizing suffering and moving forward with the intent to care for our own pain. That is a wonderful gift, the ability to be unafraid of our feelings and to know we are capable of showing up for ourselves. It is this ability, the cultivation of the loving heart and the intersection of compassion which can create the conditions for equanimity and joy for ourselves and others.

May we all trust our light,

Celia

No comments on Is This a Happy Moment?
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
The Transformational Practice of Tonglen

February 25, 2019

Bodhicitta, Buddhism, Tonglen, Transforming emotions, Uncategorized

Buddha under glass. Photo by Celia

When you are suffering, you become more understanding about yourself, but also about other people’s sufferings too. That’s the first step to understand somebody is to understand their sufferings. So then love follows. ~Yoko Ono

Empathy is the faculty to resonate with the feelings of others. When we meet someone who is joyful, we smile. When we witness someone in pain, we suffer in resonance with his or her suffering. ~Matthieu Ricard

Love and compassion are necessities, not luxuries. Without them humanity cannot survive. ~ H.H. The Dalai Lama

Dear Friends,

There’s a lot to like in Buddhism, the potential of finding total enlightenment, the reliance upon oneself and the trust in our own ability to make changes and free ourselves. I also enjoy the richness from the three limbs of Buddhism, Theravadin (the teaching of the elders), Zen, and Tibetan Vajrayana. Within each branch of Buddhism, there are sub-schools, different traditions, each with a slightly different flavor depending upon the lineage. One Pure Land monk described these diverse traditions as flowers in a bouquet, each one with its own beauty and fragrance, each offering a unique and distinct gift. And while I am not immersed in the Tibetan school of practice, I’ve had the good fortune to be introduced to a practice that I’ve relied on throughout the years when things get really tough. It’s the practice of Tonglen or sending and taking. What is so useful about Tonglen, is that you can practice it on the spot, in an emergency, or what feels like an emergency.

This winter, my son was missing school due to stomach pain. At first, we believed it was a virus, but after weeks he wasn’t improving. On the advice of our general practitioner, I booked an appointment with a Pediatric Gastroenterologist. Where I live, these specialists are pretty rare, and the first appointment I could get was for three weeks away at 8:30 am, on a weekday in Hartford, CT. I consulted my “maps” app, which told me it was 34 miles from home. To be safe, I estimated an hour’s drive.

The day finally came for our appointment and as we got into the car, I opened my app and saw the estimated travel time was an hour and a half. How could that be? I found out why as I sat and waited in the line of cars while the traffic light turned red for the third time; I was aware of the burn of adrenalin in my forearms and an infusion of frustration and anger. I felt absolutely helpless caught in this traffic. I couldn’t speak to a human at the doctor’s office; I kept getting an answering service; I couldn’t turn around. I was stuck. I believed I had failed my son and this time screw-up made me furious with myself. Why hadn’t I checked the night before? Why hadn’t I asked someone or known better?

I did my best to breathe and to remember my intention to be a presence of care of each moment, but my mind was churning. I wanted to be airlifted above this clogged morning commute and escape. The pain of my judgment and the physical sensations of helplessness and panic was making my trip a hell-realm. I told myself, “this feels terrible; I don’t know what to do,” and in that moment I remembered Tonglen.

I breathed in with all the tension in my body and mind, feeling this crunch of expectation and disappointment and breathed out the wish for ease and spaciousness. I breathed in again and felt the helplessness, the fear that I was going to miss this appointment, the doubt that I wouldn’t be able to care for my son, the binding frustration of being held in this line of traffic and breathed out understanding for the situation, the tender recognition that I care, and forgiveness for what I didn’t know. Then I widened my practice to include all the people in this world of more than 7 billion who, just like me, felt frustrated and blamed themselves. I breathed in with all the parents who were afraid that they couldn’t relieve their child’s suffering, felt the shared anger and disappointment, the feeling of injustice and hopelessness. I breathed out a breath of deep peace for all these people caught, just as I was, in situations we could not control. Breathing in I took in our shared pain and with each out-breath, I sent us all the wish for capacity to bear discomfort, forgiveness, and dispassion.

When I did this, I could become the witness to this experience, as well as the one who was in it. I knew that even though this moment felt so out of control and uncomfortable, it was a moment of shared experience and I was capable of transforming these emotions, no matter how fierce or unwanted. After practicing for a few minutes, I breathed in and accepted the pain of those who were suffering from this same frustration and feeling lost. I willingly breathed in the feeling of anger, hopelessness, and despair so others would not have to feel these things. Taking on their suffering and transforming it, I breathed out, sending all those who were in a panic, late, feeling frazzled and in trouble, peace, deep contentment, and non-fear.

This is the practice of Tonglen in action that moves us from victimhood, experiencing suffering as uniquely our, and connects us to all those who are suffering just like us. Tonglen reminds us of the impersonal nature of suffering and develops our compassion and bodhicitta—our Buddha nature and awakened loving heart.

The practice is simple, recognizing our pain, or the pain of another person and breathing in experiencing that discomfort, noticing the feeling, color, taste, and particulars of that suffering and breathing out the antidote to that poison. In this vast world, there must be a few other people feeling what we are feeling right now—it could be boredom, ill-health, grief, fear, or rage. We can know these emotions and breath them in with those who, just like us, are suffering. When we breathe out, we can offer them and ourselves the cooling intention of relief.

As we continue to practice, we can develop some more capacity to move through our own suffering and we can offer this practice exclusively for others by breathing in their anxiety, discomfort, and confusion, willing ourselves to take on these painful states to save others from suffering. Breathing out we offer the benefit of our merit and give them the fruits of our practice, our peace, happiness, and stillness—freely given to save others from future suffering.

Back in my car, practicing Tonglen, I recognized that maybe I would have to re-schedule, but it wasn’t the crisis that I was manufacturing. Tonglen isn’t a magic bullet, but it can transform our understanding of our situation and bring compassion to our actions. When we breathe in and recognize all those we share this moment with, we are no longer alone, or helpless. We become agents of our own well being and active participants in the wellbeing of all those on this planet who are caught, just as we are.

That day, we were 40 minutes late and we still got to see the doctor. I had gratitude for the understanding of the staff and for this practice that helped me transform pain and open my heart to all of our suffering. This week, please give this a try—you don’t have to have a crisis to start. Tonglen is as accessible as an inhale and an exhale and can join us to all those around the world, reestablish our sovereignty, and reconnect us with our true intention to live with kindness for ourselves and others.

May we all trust our light,

Celia

For a deeper guided experience with Tonglen, click here for writing from Roshi Joan Halifax.

2 comments on The Transformational Practice of Tonglen
Irritation is a pain in the heart

July 9, 2018

Buddhism, compassion, Dharma, Irritation, Loving Kindness, Mindfulness, Mindfulness of feelings, non-violence, Relationship, Self-care, stopping, suffering, Thich Nhat Hanh, Transforming emotions, Uncategorized

Butterfly resting on Judith’s daisy. Photo by Celia

“If you do not know how to take care of yourself, and the violence in you, then you will not be able to take care of others. You must have love and patience before you can truly listen to your partner or child. If you are irritated you cannot listen. You have to know how to breathe mindfully, embrace your irritation and transform it.” ~ Thich Nhat Hanh

“…feelings like disappointment, embarrassment, irritation, resentment, anger, jealousy, and fear, instead of being bad news, are actually very clear moments that teach us where it is that we’re holding back. They teach us to perk up and lean in when we feel we’d rather collapse and back away. They’re like messengers that show us, with terrifying clarity, exactly where we’re stuck. This very moment is the perfect teacher, and, lucky for us, it’s with us wherever we are.” ~Pema Chodron

“Others may be harmful, but I shall be harmless, thus should I train myself.” ~ The Buddha, Kakacupama Sutta, Majjhima Nikaya 21

Dear Friends,

This past week was one of those weeks where it felt like everyone was making life more complicated than it needed to be. I could tell my frustration level was rising and my equanimity sagging. I thought about escaping to a spiritual retreat, taking a week in silence where no one would speak to me or complain. That sounded like heaven, but a retreat is temporary and there’s always something in our lives we can find that’s irritating, some relative who lets us down, a political figure who speaks without thinking, emails asking for clarifications about clarifications. Irritation is inversely correlated to the amount of self-compassion, love, and understanding available in ourselves. If we haven’t been sending ourselves loving kindness, if we haven’t practiced stopping, breathing and calming our body, showing care for our own situation and capacity, then we will exhaust our fund of equanimity, compassion, and care and quickly fall into illbeing [dukkha].

Although irritation can seem like small potatoes in the realm of unwholesome thoughts, it is also called ill-will and categorized as one of the five lower fetters and is a direct forerunner to aversion or hatred, one of the three root poisons that creates the conditions for suffering in ourselves and the world. When we feel irritation, we don’t need to wait months, or even seconds to experience illbeing; we have an immediate mind and body sensation of discomfort. Just the state of experiencing irritation is already suffering.

The Buddha stated that he taught only the knowledge of suffering and the release from suffering. In a comprehensive talk to his son Rahula, the Buddha instructed him in a variety of methods to guard the mind against irritation, “Develop the meditation of good will. For when you are developing the meditation of good will, ill-will will be abandoned. Develop the meditation of compassion. For when you are developing the meditation of compassion, cruelty will be abandoned. Develop the meditation of appreciation. For when you are developing the meditation of appreciation, resentment will be abandoned. Develop the meditation of equanimity. For when you are developing the meditation of equanimity, irritation will be abandoned,” from the Maha-Rahulovada Sutta (Thanissaro Bhikkhu, Trans.).

To develop this mind of good will, consider in the moment of irritation, how much good will is present towards ourselves or another? Usually, in irritation, all thoughts are projected outward to the other person or condition. We believe that’s where the change needs to happen—out there. That person needs to stop being annoying and then I’ll be fine. But when we engage in the habit of irritation, we no longer offer our support and friendship to ourselves. Falling into irritation we abandon ourselves. Sending ourselves loving kindness is the way to transform our aversion, hatred, and anger. Accepting what is without fear or distrusting ourselves is the remedy for irritation. That sort of acceptance requires a base of goodwill, or kindness, and self-care. Appreciating others dislodges resentment and the urge towards cruelty is abandoned when we cultivate the desire to protect others.

On a spiritual path, sometimes, we have smooth and easy progress, then we hit some turbulence and the going gets a bit rougher. We may act in ways we know are not helpful, and even though we know better, we find ourselves doing it anyway. We may observe ourselves chewing on thoughts of dislike and revenge and end up disappointed in ourselves.

The good news is that we have immeasurable opportunities to begin again in mindful awareness. Beginning with being present for ourselves, we may want to comfort ourselves the way we would a friend, to tell ourselves, “I understand. It’s ok, I am here for you,” or use Thich Nhat Hanh’s mantras of, “Darling, I am here for you” and “I know you suffer.” We can promise to care for ourselves in our discomfort and recognize external irritation as a cry from the heart for our own help. Reminding ourselves that “this is how it is right now,” or “may I be at ease with the changing conditions,” or simply, “I care,” can give us confidence in our ability to meet all the conditions we encounter. Although the world keeps sending stormy weather, we have the potential to keep a calm, still place of shelter within us at all times. In the coming weeks, I am planning on carving out more time to fill up my treasure store of self-compassion, and when I have saturated my own heart with care, to be that understanding presence for another who may have no resources left in their heart.

May we all trust our light,

Celia

1 comment on Irritation is a pain in the heart
The Strength of Vulnerability

April 8, 2018

Buddhism, Healing Ourselves, impermanence, Mindfulness, Mindfulness of feelings, Self-care, Thich Nhat Hanh, Transforming emotions, Uncategorized

Spring Flowers. Photo by Celia

“Sorrow, fear, and depression are all a kind of garbage. These bits of garbage are part of real life, and we must look deeply into their nature. You can practice in order to turn these bits of garbage into flowers.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh

“…feelings like disappointment, embarrassment, irritation, resentment, anger, jealousy, and fear, instead of being bad news, are actually very clear moments that teach us where it is that we’re holding back. They teach us to perk up and lean in when we feel we’d rather collapse and back away. They’re like messengers that show us, with terrifying clarity, exactly where we’re stuck. This very moment is the perfect teacher, and, lucky for us, it’s with us wherever we are.” ~Pema Chodron

“In Buddhist meditation, you do not turn yourself into a battlefield, with good fighting against evil. Both sides belong to you, the good and the evil. Evil can be transformed into good and vice versa. They are completely organic things.” ~ Thich Nhat Hanh

Dear Friends,

I hope you are having some moments to sit and enjoy the changing weather, feeling the softness of the sunshine and stepping into days where we feel safe outside. We can unlayer from our winter coats, let our heads be bare and open to the air, and our fingers don’t get stiff and raw from the wind. In winter, it can feel like the world is a fierce and unforgiving place and going outside could kill us, but in spring—if we fall down and can’t get up, we’ll probably survive and not get hypothermia, or frostbite before we are rescued. This change in temperature helps the body relax and we have reason to celebrate this benign world. This change in seasons points to allowing the body to be more unprotected and vulnerable. That can be a difficult word—vulnerability. It is often thought of as weakness, but often what we consider vulnerability can be real strength.

Recently, I’ve been spending time with high school students practicing mindfulness. I intercepted one young man, a freshman, who was very close to a physical fight because he felt attacked. After we did some calming practice, he told me that the most stressful thing in school was that he had to hide his true feelings. It wasn’t safe for him to let others see that he was hurt. In that situation, the only acceptable emotion for this young man was anger. In our culture, we allow girls to feel hurt, but boys have to keep it all buttoned up or they are perceived as weak. Shame researcher from the University of Houston, Dr. Brene’ Brown tells us “The number one shame trigger for men is being perceived as weak. Men walk this tightrope where any sign of weakness elicits shame, and so they’re afraid to make themselves vulnerable for fear of looking weak.” The observation made by this high school freshman is the truth; males in our society are shamed for expressing their full range of emotions. Our work together allowed him to see that he was hurt, to recognize what he was wanting and needed, including physical safety and to allow all his emotions and underlying needs to be ok. There was no blame or shame in feeling hurt or afraid. It’s the strategies we employ to try to escape from those mind states that gets us in trouble.

In our practice, we have the unique opportunity to recognize, investigate, and be with all of our emotional terrain. There is nothing that is off limits or too shameful. Learning to develop the capacity to be with what is pleasant, and what is very far from pleasant is a process. We can gradually open to staying present with what is mildly irritating and practice building the resilience to stay when we feel the trembling of our heart. When we can hang in with ourselves, and utilize mindful awareness, there is part of ourselves that doesn’t get flooded with emotion. This is the part of us who can tell us to take three breaths, to recognize that we are scared, to explore where the fear lives in the body and to bring our compassion and care to this feeling. When we deny our full emotional life and range, we cut ourselves off from the possibility of transforming. We make parts of ourselves unacceptable and in doing so, we create prisons of shame that are too painful for us to look at. This suppression and exiling of our emotions will not make them go away but actually convinces us that we are not capable of handling these big emotions and they become more powerful.

This week, as part of the process of strengthening our capacity to stay present with ourselves, we can utilize mindfulness of vedana. This is noting the feeling tone, either pleasant, unpleasant or neutral. Pleasant and unpleasant are automatic responses, either an “ahhh,” or an “eww.” There is no need to analyze, these reactions are right up front, similar to the way people feel about cilantro—either we love it, or it tastes like soap. Neutral is a bit slipperier as we tend to ignore or space out neutral since it is neither what we grab ahold of or push away. Just check in, if possible each hour and notice what’s arising in the body and mind. Noticing what’s unpleasant, can we stay, even for three breaths investigating the pain that is in us? Where does it hurt? Is it consistent, or does it fluctuate? What is the pain asking for? Recognizing and allowing create the ability to relate to our pain, both emotional and physical, in a new and competent way. Are there moments of pleasant that shift to neutrality? Noticing the neutral, often I find that when there’s nothing wrong, that moment can become very pleasant. There is an absence of pain and I am not hungry, tired, or upset. What seems very neutral, shifts with mindful awareness into gratitude and the joy that arises from mindful presence. This week, please listen to your whole self. There is nothing to get rid of, just recycle what we think of as garbage into new spring flowers of understanding and compassion.

May we all trust our light,

Celia

No comments on The Strength of Vulnerability

Category: Transforming emotions

My Shame Accompaniment: