The Itch in Your Mind: More Thoughts on Steve Hagen

Hagen writes that we often seek enlightenment to escape delusion. I am often aware of my own difficulties with embracing tranquility. If enlightenment includes a state of tranquility, have we not been, at least those of us in Western countries, strongly discouraged from being tranquil and therefore, perhaps from being enlightened?

When I choose to write, or sit, or do any one thing, my mind flits from option to option. I feel compelled to make lists, set goals, and accrue accomplishments. I have moments of repose, but they often seem like activities on the list that can be checked off.

Pema Chodron wrote, "Even the simplest of things can be the basis of practice--a beautiful morning, a good meal, a shower." After listening to a Zencast, I accepted the reality that our actions are our practice. We do not go about life, then go about our practice--they are one in the same--inseparable. That, it seems is the essence of integrity. And, because we are all interconnected, my practice is an element of yours, and your practice contributes to mine. When I take time to notice the beautiful morning, have I not contributed to the stillness of my community? When I enjoy a meal with friends, do we all not slow our eating and create interconnectedness?

When we engage in the delusion of separateness, we distance ourselves from the moment; we hold our spiritual breath. Hagen writes that "we keep hoping that somehow we'll throw the right spiritual switch and enlightenment will flash on at last." This passage has brought awareness to my propensity to plan, often as a way to put off reality: "I'm on the path; erring and erring I walk the unerring path; this is part of my journey and I'm just not there yet." And so it goes...

Inherent in this deluded way of thinking is the message that I am not enough yet, and that I need more. More enlightenment, more accomplishments, more books, more Zencasts...if my life is my practice, then I suppose I also need more physical fitness, more fiscal responsibility, more professional accomplishments.

But, when I accept the reality that all I have is what I have at this moment, and that what I have allows for spontaneous enlightenment, then I have a profound sense of responsibility. That my energies and actions matter. That when I practice lovingkindness I contribute to the celestial collectiveness of our being.

Hagen writes, "there can only be one place: right here, right now."

What is your practice? How do you express your enlightenment?

Reconsidering Resolutions

I'm taking some time to move lists originally posted on Facebook to this blog. Most of these lists were created in response to requests from friends to participate in those "25 Random Things" things. I know some people find these things to be immature, or a waste of time, or invasive, or something else not entirely productive or good, but I like them. They offer a chance to reflect.

Which leads me to thinking about resolutions. I am finding the difference between clinging to goals and being with goals very helpful. It's as if I were taking a walk with a great friend, feeling in harmony and tandem with their energy--that is being with. But, if I and my friend each hold one end of a piece of string and then promise ourselves to continue our walk while holding the string taught--I am clinging. We are suddenly three: he, I, and our distracting relationship with the string.

Setting a goal or a resolution allows one to explore the present and its actions in the unpressured context of the preferred. When one forces commitment to a resolution, the joy of the moment is sacrificed for the lure of the future.

Here are some things about myself I notice:

1. Almost every day I think about how fortunate I am to hear and know the music of Rachmaninoff.
2. I have an extremely sensitive affective memory. I remember how I felt at every musical performance I've given or been a part of since childhood. I remember riding a firetruck in 4th grade because I won a poster contest. All things that promote intensity of feelings seem to stay with me forever.
3. I rarely cry, but I ALWAYS cry during the overtures to operas and musicals--all of them--Dirty Rotten Scoundrels, Rent, Boheme--anything.
4. I saw a shooting star this morning and thought of wishing for world peace, but went for single-digit body fat instead.
5. I find people who take themselves too seriously tedious.
6. I rarely get angry.
7. I can have as much investment in casual acquaintances as I do best friends. I strive to not take anyone for granted.
8. I often love the journey more than the destination.
9. If someone is witty and intelligent, I can be with them for hours.
10. I find sarcasm tedious.
11. I wish I had been more athletic earlier in life.
12. I would rather give than get gifts and host than be hosted. I am socially awkward as a guest, but completely confident being a host.
13. I am shy and strive to gain confidence through learning as much as possible about everything I do.
14. I can't relate to children at all--not as a child, nor now as an adult.
15. I could live on pasta and Cabernet.
16. I used to live in a pink trailer--all pink--even the appliances, toilet, and sinks.
17. I was a great waiter and sometimes miss it.
18. I love having such a strangely diverse set of real life and virtual friends--staunch, hard core Republicans and over the top liberals--it's what makes everything interesting.
19. I rarely feel pressure to be agreeable.
20. I love my chihuahuas and will forgive them for anything.
21. I sometimes think about becoming a Buddhist monk.
22. I don't like desserts very much.
23. I probably, no almost for sure overthink everything.
24. I love the unconventional life John and I lead. This past Saturday we went to Buffalo Wild Wings, then the Met Opera simulcast, then pizza and Cosmopolitans. I live in a conservative suburb....nothing makes a dime of sense, but it's all fun.
25. I don't procrastinate, but I do linger sometimes...

Comments on Steve Hagen's "Buddhism Is Not What You Think" Chapters 3 & 4

Allowing ourselves to volley in an imagined world of this or that results in an imagined existence, at least half of the time. Hagen writes, "...we imagine mental objects that we call good and evil...they're phantoms we've created in response to other phantoms."

I often find myself setting goals, an expression of dichotomous, imagined living. I weigh this, but should weigh that; I run at this pace, but should run at that pace; I've accomplished this, but should accomplish that...the list continues.

Hagen encourages us to embrace our existence in Totality. That our only reality is the present, a place of wholeness where "that" is illusion. More directly, he addresses our illusions of good and evil. That there is a preferred way of being, a goodness that has a genuineness that is more authentic of better than evil or bad ways of being. He reminds us that "our effort is to live fully and compassionately in this world of muddy water without churning it up all the more." And so, the Precepts begin to make more sense: to not speak unless one can improve on the silence.

The seduction into dichotomous thinking, dichotomous living extends to science and religion. The former being fact-based and the latter being passion-driven. But in this moment, our beliefs, from wherever they originate are our realities.

Jack Kornfield encourages us to let go of our reality. That only through our release of these "corruptions of insight" can we truly engage in the path. That clinging to beliefs, whatever their source slows our journey, holds us back from being in this moment.

My resolution for 2010 is to not make any.

Happy Holidays!

Today I am grateful for reconnecting with so many friends from years and moments past, especially Phillip, Gaylen, Tim, Tony, Kristina, and Susan. I am grateful to have a fantastic job, wonderful colleagues who bring me wisdom and laughter, and help me think in ways that are creative and better than I would on my own. I am happy for the silliness of my day-to-day life, especially Saturdays at Rose's, these monthly races that I often share with great friends, the ongoing pet dramas, Arthur's steadfastness. I am appreciative for the volunteer work that I get to do at Gilda's Club and for the newly discovered Sangha. I smile that I have email friendships with TV anchors and celebrities. And mostly, I am happy to have a great partner.

Notes on Steve Hagen's "Buddhism: It's Not What You Think," Chapters 1-3

Earlier this year I read Hagen's book on my own. Now, after learning about a local Sangha, I'm enjoying the opportunity to read the book as part of a discussion group. Revisiting the text and having the chance to entertain different interpretations of passages with others brings a special joy.

Throughout my life I have kept some type of journal. During some periods my journals have been quite active, and other times I just jot notes here and then. Recently I've taken to a traditional paper and pen journal in which I keep notes that often find their way to this blog. Just prior to my notes on Hagen's book, I left a sentence in my paper journal: One should never hesitate to be kind.


From December 19, after reading Hagen.
To search for truth we must encounter paradox and confusion. That idea has so many implications, especially on my past work as a therapist and my current work as a college administrator. I so often work with colleagues who want safety to accompany all of our decision-making. As if the novelty of change should come with guarantees of safety, security, and comfort. How can we grow without discomfort? How will we allow ourselves to change if we wait only for those chances that are free from risk?

We engage interpretation to flee from reality--we impose our own lenses on that which is in plain sight. That idea has given me pause to consider how often I look directly at something--a situation, a decision, a meeting conversation--then begin to make up stories about what is being represented. There is a social difficulty in merely taking things as they are...to see the present as the only reality. Which often leads me to cling to the future to avoid the present.

I have a colleague, whose energy I enjoy very much. She has terrific spirit! But, she also has a proclivity to think and speak in "what ifs." Or in, "if this happens, then that will happen." Most of these imaginings are fraught with increasingly complex difficulties. If one thing happens, it will lead to misery, which will lead to more misery, and so on. I prompt her to take notice of this way of thinking and planning, but I also find myself there, too. I wonder how often my risk-aversive way of doing things muddles the path. And, how often I sacrifice the present (which is often my spontaneous intuition) for the unbridled mind. Jack Kornfield said, "the mind has no dignity; it will think anything."

The precepts are not commandments, but descriptions of the moral stance to be taken once we recognize our path. The precepts can allow us to enjoy each moment of the present. When I begin to evaluate my progress with the precepts, I've left them.

Am I acting out of wisdom and compassion? The most present thing we can say is, "I don't know."

There is growth when I throw off the comfortable blanket of interpretation.

Hanging with Bryan and Roland

Rhoades McKee Reed's Lake Triathlon 2009