Coming from a past that included people always smiling in public, private life was often scary. One never knew, moment to moment, what unknown (or unrealized) "sin" might be dredged up and force-fed to one. Perhaps these emotional ambushes were meant as "teaching moments"? (What they taught was "Be careful with your heart."..."Don't trust anyone, completely."...) Perhaps they were meant as discipline. ("Suck it up, Baby!" "Toughen up! Don't be so soft!" ) Or, perhaps, they were simply the bad habit people may acquire, of waiting in ambush.
Buddhist nun, Pema Chodron, suggests that the Lojong slogan, "Don't wait in ambush", is a "naked truth" teaching. It reaches into our hidden psychic corners and rips us out into the light. (The only way to deal with darkness.) She goes on to point out that waiting for the "right moment" to lay some heavy trip on someone, or spring negative criticism on them, isn't the way of the warrior. It is a cowardly action. Holding back gossip ,or even witnessed mistakes, until you are in a place of anger, THEN hurling them into the open, like knives, doesn't make anyone "better". You aren't using ammunition to win an argument. You aren't "fighting fairly". You aren't even communicating--except, perhaps, hatred. Smiling and keeping silent, until the exact moment when you want to mortally wound a friend, because of an upset in your own heart, isn't about "control".In a parenting situation, it isn't about "discipline", either. It is about lashing out; getting even using the Big Ace Up The Sleeve. It is a destructive activity. All parties come away wounded--perhaps even mortally so.
There have been times when I was happily sharing space, conversation, activity with a loved one. Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, a smile became the mask of shaming. Issues long ago resolved (or believed to be resolved) came hurtling to the forefront. Past history was unrolled like a soiled carpet. Itemized "mistakes" and "wrong doings" were enumerated faster than I could blink! Where had so much stored vitriol come from? (Was I really that unconscious or horrible? How had I caused this hate to build up, like pus, inside a closed wound?) I would usually flee the scene, throwing back some comments of my own in my wake. I would retreat, trying to recover, trying to understand. Even after, when things had calmed and it was possible to return, to talk "rationally", something was changed: inside me. I could forgive the thunderstorm, but never forget, never fully trust that person, again.
Today, I am unearthing tools to open my heart. I am working on healing all the tender spots--using what remains "sore", as lessons--into myself. I take responsibility for my own "thunderstorms" of the past, and try to clear out the dark corners of my psyche, so I don't hide, waiting in ambush, for anyone, either.
We become what we experience. Understanding that, working on repairing that flawed knowledge, this is what Lojong and Tonglen practice is teaching me.
Namaste.
Buddhist nun, Pema Chodron, suggests that the Lojong slogan, "Don't wait in ambush", is a "naked truth" teaching. It reaches into our hidden psychic corners and rips us out into the light. (The only way to deal with darkness.) She goes on to point out that waiting for the "right moment" to lay some heavy trip on someone, or spring negative criticism on them, isn't the way of the warrior. It is a cowardly action. Holding back gossip ,or even witnessed mistakes, until you are in a place of anger, THEN hurling them into the open, like knives, doesn't make anyone "better". You aren't using ammunition to win an argument. You aren't "fighting fairly". You aren't even communicating--except, perhaps, hatred. Smiling and keeping silent, until the exact moment when you want to mortally wound a friend, because of an upset in your own heart, isn't about "control".In a parenting situation, it isn't about "discipline", either. It is about lashing out; getting even using the Big Ace Up The Sleeve. It is a destructive activity. All parties come away wounded--perhaps even mortally so.
There have been times when I was happily sharing space, conversation, activity with a loved one. Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, a smile became the mask of shaming. Issues long ago resolved (or believed to be resolved) came hurtling to the forefront. Past history was unrolled like a soiled carpet. Itemized "mistakes" and "wrong doings" were enumerated faster than I could blink! Where had so much stored vitriol come from? (Was I really that unconscious or horrible? How had I caused this hate to build up, like pus, inside a closed wound?) I would usually flee the scene, throwing back some comments of my own in my wake. I would retreat, trying to recover, trying to understand. Even after, when things had calmed and it was possible to return, to talk "rationally", something was changed: inside me. I could forgive the thunderstorm, but never forget, never fully trust that person, again.
Today, I am unearthing tools to open my heart. I am working on healing all the tender spots--using what remains "sore", as lessons--into myself. I take responsibility for my own "thunderstorms" of the past, and try to clear out the dark corners of my psyche, so I don't hide, waiting in ambush, for anyone, either.
We become what we experience. Understanding that, working on repairing that flawed knowledge, this is what Lojong and Tonglen practice is teaching me.
Namaste.
