(The October 2017 Newsletter, where this article originally appeared can be viewed here.)
A little bit ago, in my morning meditation, I found myself feeling all stressed and pulled in ten or twelve directions. I was worried about this and that Continue reading →
(The November 2017 Newsletter, where this article originally appeared can be viewed here.)
While visiting some friends a while ago, I got a chance to observe how they related to their kids and it impressed me.
On the day I am thinking of, the dad happened to be in a bit of a mood and was trying to get the kids to clean up or something. I can’t quite remember what the content of their interaction was, but I remember that he seemed to be talking to them from a sort of emotional place of frustration and vexation and they were responding to him from a similar place: it was pretty unsatisfactory all around.
Later, the two kids were interacting with their mom and were trying to wangle out of something they didn’t want to do. The mom listened from what appeared to be a grounded place and, basically told them “no”. She said it in a way that seemed to satisfy them and get what needed to be done, done without getting all entangled in the emotional argument being presented.
I should say that when I am visiting others, I try my best to stay out of what is going on, insofar as I can, and I really try my best to not evaluate anyone (really, anyone, ever); if I notice something, I mostly just try to let it go. Sometimes though, what people do can be teaching for all around them and in this case, the thing that caught my attention, that made it stick, is that these interactions reminded me of dealing with my own mind.
There are many ways that we can manipulate our own feelings and emotions, sometimes with the best of intentions, and it is useful to work on coming to be aware of how we do this. There is an emotional component to much of how we interact with ourselves: “I’ve been working so hard in miserable conditions and I really deserve this extra helping of chocolate cake,” or, “if I exaggerate this little thing about myself, then so and so will like or respect me more,” etc. Often, the thing we do with our emotions is to stir them up, making it hard to see clearly what is actually going on: we sort of make an emotional cloud.
Actually, we spend a lot of time in a cloud or fog of emotion and spinning thoughts, sort of going from one thing to another in an unsatisfactory way. There isn’t ever really a satisfying answer to be found in that cloud, but we can learn to sink beneath the fog and act from something deeper.
One of my common snags is that I don’t like suffering very much and really don’t like to see other people in distress; this is mostly good and the emotional response it generates can be helpful in moving me to action. But sometimes those very same emotions can distort things and keep me from seeing that sometimes there really isn’t anything I can or should do to change things; of course I can still sit still, offer merit and be willing to help clean things up.
It is not that we need to get into a fight with our emotions or try to get rid of them; it is more that we can, in a sense, diffuse them by sitting still in them and understanding how they work. We can cease to take for granted that our emotions are always communicating something true or wise. For example we can understand and let go of why we care whether others like or respect us; we can learn to see how having others like or respect us compares to the value of liking or respecting ourselves (which is eroded by those mild half-truths we tell ourselves and others). Or, by sitting still in our emotions, we can learn to see them clearly and accept the limitations of satisfaction from getting what we want.
This goes back to the thing about kids trying to manipulate their parents’ emotions: the tantrum or argument is saying, “I am so distressed and you can make it go away by giving me what I want,” or, “if you will only let me do what I like, then I will really like you,” or something more subtle. If we are attached to wanting to relieve our own or others suffering in a short term way, or having someone like us, then we can misunderstand the emotional situation and make errors which create more suffering.
So, one of the skills we are developing with meditation practice is to see through the manipulation of feelings and emotions so that we can make wiser decisions about what we do in our lives.
(To view the original Newsletter, go here.)
While I was traveling this month, I spent some enjoyable time with some old Dharma friends in McKinleyville who also happened to be lay followers of Reverend Master Daizui MacPhillamy. While there, I came across this short teaching by Rev. Master Daizui and thought it might be useful to share. Rev. Master Daizui was one of Reverend Master Jiyu’s chief disciples and he took on the job of head of our monastic order after Reverend Master Jiyu passed away. (For a bit more about Rev. Master Daizui, go here.)
For me, he was one of those people, teachers, who come along at just the right time, to give just the right teaching in just the right way: in his quiet way, he was transformative for me. In this list, he gives a sort of condensation of some aspects of the Dharma which he felt had an abiding importance in practice.
A few things about this list come to the fore for me today. The first is his emphasis on seeking the truth in all matters. Seeking to be truthful or to be honest is, in large part, the foundation of preceptual inquiry; it is at the foundation of my practice. Rev. Master Daizui understood that there are many levels of truth and that the Truth that the Dharma points to is beyond the duality of true and false. Coming to know this points to the next thing.
The second thing on the list that stands out for me is his emphasis on trusting that which is greater than we are. Rev. Master Daizui was, in many ways a man of science (in addition to being a clinical psychologist, he had keen interests in natural history, astronomy and ornithology) and he described his sense of that which is greater saying: “I’m the type of person who uses words like ‘That Which Is’ and who likes to look up into a moonless starry sky at night alone on a remote mountain and feel his utter insignificance before the awesomeness of the universe.”
He had a great ability to look unflinchingly at the world as it really is with all its imperfections and brokenness and he made a determined effort to uncover the truth. And yet, for all his subtlety of mind, he just had a simple faith that there was more to our existence than meets the eye. He knew that compassion, love, and wisdom exist and are there, available to us in all circumstances, if we should chose to turn to them.
“What is important? I think that these are some things that are important:
To know that the Hand of Buddha encompasses everything and to trust it;
To seek the Truth in all matters, within the limits of my ability since ignorance is the root of all attachments;
To speak what I believe to be the truth on suitable occasions, without insistence (for only the Eyes of Buddha can discern what is true with certainty), and otherwise to keep silent;
To show loving kindness to all those whom I can find a way to love, without attachment, lust, or embarrassment;
To fear nothing, for out of fear even the good harm one another;
If anger should arise, to refuse it lodging in my heart, nourishment in my mind, and life in my speech and actions;
To accept what I have not the wisdom to change for the better and to know that it is enough to do what I can;
To abstain from that which fosters ignorance, including indulgence in fantasies, ideals, and notions of what should be;
To deal fairly and honorably with all people; and
To have no greater ambition than to be remembered as a half-way decent human being.”
~Rev. Master Daizui MacPhillamy
