SEEKING OUT THE PAIN OF OTHERS

Mass bombings, vanishing children, lost or losing campaigns, the daily news, planetary pollution rates, continuing unemployment, religious wars--we don't have to look far to witness the agony of others. But what about those times when we actually seek out the pain of our neighbors? Rejoice in the suffering of ex-friends, lost lovers, rivals at work? What then?


There is a Buddhist teaching which suggest that we "Don't seek others' pain as limbs of our own happiness". 


Boom! Another direct hit in my third eye! Ouch.
How often have I slipped into that crevice? Smirking (inside), when someone I have a long grown "issue" with, falls down on their face? Someone who "did me wrong" gets a public flogging, or is caught in another duplicitous situation, exposing them for who I always knew they were? Hmmmm.
Or, even on a minor level, what about when I feel a tiny ripple of satisfaction when a family member is proven wrong about an issue we have argued over? Why does my heart allow such petty emotions? My own happiness is hardly pure when it is watered down with the bitter failure of another, and yet, I do find myself secretly responding.


Gossip is like this, too. How often have I found out a juicy "tidbit" about a long-ago rival, only to pass on the negative news, even if I haven't fully investigated the story? Why does the "fall-down" delight me? The person isn't currently in my life--has no effect on any outcome of any endeavor I'm invested in--probably never thinks of me at all. Yet, my mind is still "hung up" on a long-ago hurt. My pride won't allow me to budge--to let go or seek out a smoothing of that hurtful event. Why? Even as I abhor injustice, torture, inequality, racism, ageism, looksism, homophobia, etc. I still am tickled (inside) when someone who has sleighted me socially, doesn't get the new job, or the new posting, or the great review. I can mourn the death of a friend's child or a co-worker's beloved pet yet still delight when someone I haven't seen in a decade but who unfriended me, loses a bid for office.
Why am I so petty and yet so sincere at the same time?


Because I am human.
As a twenty-first century human, it is easy to be aware of global horror. It is upfront, illustrated, photographed, given a sound track and pushed into our face almost every second. Even if I don't want to look, every place I glance, the reality of suffering is there. However, the personal and petty dealings of my own past are locked away. I am taught there is no time to truly examine those pains. I hear that I should simply "push those past hurts out of your mind and focus on the positive, on the future, on building a better dream". That's the problem. It's all a dream. And if I want to wake up to the reality, I must deal, first, with those secret dark corners of my own heart. I have to be the one who chooses to turn on the lights.


I have to be willing to walk into the shadows of my own soul and find what I've tried to hide. If secretly delighting in others' pain in hopes of increasing my own happiness or self-worth is part of that discovery, then I guess I must own it. Dust it off. Pull it out of the corner and examine it in the middle of the room. Only by "understanding" what it is and where it came from can I ferret out why I have chosen to hold on to it. Why have I kept it secreted in the black void, at all?


I am a human being in this life. I am experiencing all that means. Owning my shadow-self and discovering what answers it holds for my complete understanding is part of this journey. All the slimey, slippery, ugly little bits hold clues--even as the glorious golden ones do. Accepting all and uncovering everything is the challenge.    

PONDERING OTHERS

Pondering others is a tough one for me.
I'm a writer. Most of my "character development" comes from the eternal internal dialogue I have. Going over past scenarios, memories, tragedies and accidents provides lots of "stuff" to write. Now, if I follow the lojong slogan path, I'm supposed to stop going over these scenarios in my mind. Hmmmm.


I think that I need to go deeper into this slogan. My gut reaction about not pondering others is that it truly means if we constantly access the "doings" of those around us, including and most importantly, those around us who give us a royal pain, then, of course, that leads to judgments that we have no right to make. In addition, it widens the split between us and "the others". It doesn't allow us the energy to put ourselves in their boots, even for a moment of contemplation. Instead, we waste precious energy in going over their "sins" and even, (mea culpa) attributing the commission of our own "sins" to their negative influence in our lives. (You know: "I lost my cool and shot the bird when this jerk in an Acura cut me off from the exit!!!!!!!"  Not: "Breathe. Send light and calm to the guy to make him a more attentive and courteous driver. Focus on how to get to the next exit in one piece, and make your appointment! Breathe.")


If I find myself contemplating a bad scene and attributing "reasons" to other people's actions, I probably should just sit with it and label it "thinking". Then, use it or let it go, but not get hung up on it nor let it affect me. This is tricky stuff, this sitting and breathing and letting go and blessing.
Hmmmm.


When I look at the wars in the world and listen to the debates from all sides, what emerges is this: NONE of us know what is really going on...seriously. There are forces all around us, encircling us, above and below and beyond, that we , in our human incarnation, just can't grasp. What we can do, however, is to understand this and to try to feel which debates get us going--make us really rabid and make us stop listening--or even begin to ponder the person taking "the other side". War is hated by all--except those making a profit from afar. (Afar being the operative word.) Put their family or themselves in the middle of a firefight and see if they still applaud battle! We all abhor war. We all fear pain. We all seek A LIFE well-lived--a life of respect, basic comfort, love. I'm going to try to concentrate my pondering on these facts.


The rest, I'll label: thinking.   

IDIOT COMPASSION

"We don't get wise by staying in a room with all the doors and windows closed."
                                                                                            Pema Chodron




Because I have a retinue (historical and sometimes hysterical) of passionate friends, even when we are all attempting to come from our pure heartspace, it can get loud. (Same with my family...I'm sure there is a reason I've chosen this stewpot...) When I first began to study Buddhism, I believed that "being quiet, being open to everything without critical thinking" was the route to Bodhisattvahood.
Wrong.


In the same way that running off into the woods and living in a closed-up cabin, cut off from the world and her people, doesn't get you anywhere (Thoreau and Buddha-before-enlightenment discovered this fact!), so, too, simply zoning out, ignoring conflict and bad behavior, gets you nowhere. (Always: The Middle Path.) Sometimes I think that that is where my frustration with lots of "New Age" workshops, literature, teachings and practices comes from: inaction around the tough stuff. Always "being nice" and "ignoring the negative" isn't an answer to anything.


A Buddhist nun friend of mine, in L.A., had just finished taking her vows. She had made the decision to shave her head and wear her robes, full-time, even as she continued working as a social services nurse at a clinic for at-risk teens. For her, this was a huge step--to come out of the closet, not only as a Buddhist, but as a full-fledged practicing nun! (Around teens whose world-view and educational experience didn't include much about Eastern religions nor philosophies.) Still, she took the chance. Surprisingly, it wasn't the kids who gave her grief, it was the mainstream, upper middle class "professionals", rushing around Los Angeles, throwing money at any situation they couldn't control to their own benefit, who gave her the most problems.


One day, after lunch, she returned to our agency, red-faced and huffing. She'd gone to the bank to make a deposit. A man wearing an Armani suit, imported sunglasses, and smelling like a boutique in Beverly Hills,blew past her (and all the other customers in line), actually elbowing my middle-aged nun friend out of his way. As people stood there, in shock, he tossed an explanation over his shoulder:
"I'm in a hurry--my Mercedes is in a red zone!".


In the long bank lines (those kind that look like Disneyland rides, with the ropes and posts making people snake along, waiting their turns till the next teller is available), everyone is frustrated, of course. Everyone is usually on their way to someplace else. I am always surprised at the basic civility most people express, as they wait their turn. This man was an anomaly, for sure. So, everyone was taken by surprise, and stood there, quietly muttering, but not saying anything to him, directly.
Then, my friend took action.


My friend walked up behind the man, as he began making demands of the teller. She tapped him on the shoulder. She informed him that not only had he cut in front of at least two dozen people who were before him, but he also elbowed her in the ribs, as he made his mad dash to the window. She didn't understand these aggressive actions. There was no hurry, because the bank was open for another four hours. His choice, to park in the red zone, was not a reason everyone else had to suffer. She would appreciate it if he would step down and go to the back of the line, as everyone else had done, upon arrival.


The man looked at this sixty-year-old-white-female-hundred- and- ten- pound-bald-robe-wearing-nun, and spat out: "I thought you Buddhists were pacifists! Show some compassion, Lady!"
 
He completed his transaction, still blocking her. The teller, stunned into silence (and probably wanting to diffuse the situation as quickly as possible and get rid of the guy before there was a riot--or a "scene") put her head down and gave the man his deposit slip. Then, the guy in the thousand dollar suit, rushed past the booing crowd, jumped into his Mercedes SLR, and screeched away.


My friend was trembling with upset and rage, when she returned to the office.
"I am so mad--at myself--for letting what happened affect me.  I know I had to say something to him--what he did to everyone in that bank was rude and wrong--being silent would have been equally wrong. But letting his actions get to me so deeply and shake me up? That's where I have to work!"


I was moved by the story--by her courage, her conviction, her sense of injustice for other people,( and herself) and for the set-up of a societal situation we all were living by (banking). I was also touched by her taking of her vows, her moving into the monastery, her wearing the robes--yet still participating in the outside world-- in a compassionate way. Mostly, though, the fact that she knew where her real "lesson" was--letting this man's stupid actions and ignorant words "unseat her"--after she had done all she could do to rectify the encounter--owning that lesson. Wow.


Today, as I read Pema Chodron's words about "idiot compassion"--about people zoning out, smiling in a blissed out state, and allowing people to run amok, all over them--because the blissed out ones misidentify silence for sainthood--I think of this story. The lojong teaching of "Don't misinterpret" seems to me, to speak directly to this situation. We must be present. We must pay attention. We must learn to really LISTEN, and then, only then, speak and take action, to reap the most benefit for the other people involved--and for ourselves.


We can't mask "control" for compassion.
We do have to risk dropping our agenda--being willing to risk whatever the Universe has in store for us without desiring our own, flawed plans, as the ultimate outcome. Yes. But we must also be ready to step in and be clear. To listen, observe, decide to do that which most benefits the situation--trusting our clean hearts. Sometimes this is scary. (Sometimes it is risky.) But, I think, if our intentions are  aimed to the highest good, and we don't let the outcome knock us off the path, we remain seated in our practice.


As was my friend.
          

GOSSIP GURU

The lojong slogan of the day is simply: Don't malign others.


Well, not exactly simple...of course.
Easy to understand, the need to work on not saying bad stuff about anyotherbody, of course, of course. Easy to understand how it is bad karma and unwise for one's own mental health to gossip about people, in general. However, "not maligning" doesn't just let it rest on saying/repeating negativities.


Of course.


"Not maligning others" makes us take a look at how, when we repeat "crap" about people, there is something in that fertilizer that makes ugly stuff in us bloom. (If I repeat, or feel, and then share, how "Mary" bugs me with all of her constant whining, perhaps there is something a bit deeper than "Mary's" tone of voice.) I may follow my criticism of "Mary" with the justification that I want to "fill my life with only positive energy". However, what if I took a bit to get to understand where "Mary's" dissatisfaction is coming from--that is, to get to KNOW "Mary"...what then?  Perhaps "Mary" is suffering.(Or, perhaps "Mary" is the most positive person I might ever meet again, but just going through a bit of a rough patch.) What if I stuck around a little longer? What if I paid attention a bit more closely? What if I risked honestly getting to the heart of  "Mary"?


Maybe it isn't even "Mary" or her whining...perhaps "Mary" reminds me of someone in my past?  An "ex" who used to complain, even after winning the Lottery?  A boss who sighed, because his Mercedes wasn't the "correct shade of champagne", off the lot ? Another author whose newest book ONLY made her a hundred thousand last year?  Or my parents, disappointed with the fact that my report card had one B+, amid all the other A's?  Who does "Mary" stand-in for, in my life? Why do I find it so easy to conjecture what makes her "a pain in the butt to be around because of her negativity"? Why do I repeat every bit of gossip I hear about her--to as many people I meet, after hearing it? (Why is it the last thing I think about before falling asleep on the day I receive the tidbit--and maybe the first thing I ponder, upon waking?) Why is MY consciousness hooked on spreading rumors about this person?


See? Not so simple. (Of course.)


In my life, gossip, both bad and good, has also scarred me. I have had experiences of projection, whereupon people placed their own "scenarios" on my head. (No, I did not participate in that particular activity! No, I was not at that specific location! No, I did not make a pass at that individual! No, not only did I never state that fact, I never even thought that thought! I don't hold ...whatever belief...! ) The list goes on and on. How often I may forget how hurt I was, because of an erroneous assumption made by strangers--some of whom later became bosom buddies--after taking time to ferret out the facts and to get to know me. The true me. The truth about me. (The heart-space.)


My meditation, these days, contains this lojong phrase, because it applies, directly, to all the soft places I am trying to expose.


Let's call them: "Mary".*




*(No reference to any Mary, living or dead.)