Friday, July 6, 2012

The Power of Perspective


A little while ago I was in the gift shop of the Phoenix Art Museum and was looking at the magnets with the sayings on them. On this day I found one that said simply, “The barn burned down; now I can see the moon.” I liked it immediately. When I went to the cashier to check out, clearly she saw it (and me) as a little weird and asked me, “Is this a joke for a friend? I hope they have a good sense of humor.”  I was taken aback because it never occurred to me that it was in any way humorous. What it says to me is all about the power of perspective, and more importantly, our power to choose how we will look at and respond to any given situation. I think all of us have been conditioned to look immediately at the downside of the things that happen to us that seem to be problematic or inconvenient. Rarely do we step back to look at the whole of the issue, that is, what positive results might there be from this experience. Regarding the saying on the magnet, this farmer’s barn has just burnt down, and clearly that sucks. But rather than dwelling on his misfortune, he is choosing to look at the more positive side in that now he has an unobstructed view of the beauty of the moon.

How we choose to look at things, (i.e. our perspective) governs the emotions that will arise as a result of those experiences. Often the suffering we endure as the result of a negative experience comes from the fact that our egos immediately jump out in front saying, ‘Why did this happen to me? I don’t deserve this! I won’t take this! Nobody’s going to treat me this way!” and so on. This knee-jerk emotional reaction (of which we are all guilty at some time) prevents us from taking a different and more positive perspective on what has happened.  What I have found can be very helpful is to take a step back to see what has happened simply as something that has occurred, not something that has occurred to us.  By taking a more objective look at the situation, we dampen the negative fight or flight emotions of fear or anger or embarrassment, allowing us to view the situation rationally and with calm detachment.  When we do that, the solution or way out of the situation is more accessible to us. In fact, when viewed without the negative emotions, we may just discover that there is no real problem at all, except in our original perception of the situation. This can result in an overwhelming experience of freedom that feels like a large, cool, calming breath.

In training ourselves to do this, we begin to view the things that happen to us as they are, rather than what we would like them to be or not to be. In so doing, we find that we get upset a lot less often, because we realize there is little to be upset about, and that getting upset solves nothing. Some people of a religious bent say, “When God closes a door, he opens a window.” It’s the same thing. The key is to stop looking at the door hoping it will open again, and to start moving toward the window. It is a given that stress is an ever-increasing problem in the world we now inhabit. And while none of us can eliminate the stress entirely, the simple truth is that each one of us possesses the power to drastically reduce the amount of stress in our lives by choosing to step back and take another perspective whenever we are faced with one of life’s challenges.

Try this. The next time you are caught in a traffic-jam, when the urge comes to look at your watch, pound the steering wheel, and swear a blue steak, choose not to. Take a deep breath, accept the reality that you can’t do anything about it and through no fault of your own, may be late for an appointment.  Having once accepted that, you can sit back, find a mellow station on the radio and enjoy the opportunity to rest that you would not otherwise have had. Look around you and notice the people in the other cars as their frustration takes hold. Without judging them, realize that through your own choice and by exercising your own power, you have found an oasis of calm amidst a sea of turbulence. More importantly, recognize that it is a place you can go to whenever you want, because that place lies within you. It all depends on the way you look at it.


Tuesday, July 3, 2012

Doggie Dharma...The Teachings of Duffy


It is said that we can't really go out and find a guru, but that one will find us at a time when we need it. I had no idea ten years ago that a guru would come to me in the guise of a little black ball of fur. That ball of fur grew up to become Duffy, a crazy Kerry Blue Terrier, and a wonderful companion for more than nine years. As I think about him  (pretty much a daily occurrence), I realize that he taught me some wonderful lessons about the Dharma, and looking at the world from a Zen perspective.

The first of the lessons he taught me by example was that of expressing loving-kindness in just about every situation. Regardless of whatever was going on in my life, whether I was sad or frustrated or angry, I knew that when I walked through the front door, Duffy would become tearing out of wherever he was in the house to jump up on me and lick my face. Sometimes this went on for a few minutes before he was sure I had gotten the message. The point I realized was that his love toward me had nothing to do with where I was at any given time, but rather had to do with his desire to express the love he was feeling. It occurred to me that our expressions of loving-kindness toward others should emanate from the same place, dependent not on how they are acting, but on our desire and need to show compassion, regardless of the circumstances.  He always wanted to be with me or my wife, Rene, and being in his presence always made us feel loved. Would that we made all others around us feel the same way.

The second lesson was that of truly living in the moment. This occurred to me on one of the hundreds of times he went out to bark like crazy at the garbage truck, as if he had never done so before. Or similarly, if someone was coming to do work at the house, as soon as the doorbell sounded, the Duffster would go into his act. Once the workman came into the house, Duffy would wag his tail, get the pets he was looking for, and lie down to watch him work. If the guy needed to go out to the truck for a tool or a part and then approached the door again, Duffy would commence barking as if this had not happened just a few minutes before. At first I found this frustrating, and a little embarrassing, knowing that it looked as if we had a total whack-job for a dog. At some point it dawned on me that Duffy was in the here and now, over and over. Each moment was lived as if only that moment existed. Buddhist teachings tell us that we truly only possess the present moment, that the past and the future are only stories that have already gone by us or haven't occurred yet and are therefore illusions. It occurred to me that day after day Duffy was teaching me what many of us talk about and try to achieve...how to live in the moment.

Another valuable lesson he taught me, in a very tangible way, was whatever we do, if it is done with mindfulness and good intent, it is right action (one of the parts of The Eightfold Path). At the very same time, I was learning that, despite our inflated sense of ourselves because of status or power or wealth or education, every one of us is no greater or lesser than any other being. How did he teach me this, one might ask? This lesson was learned every day for the nine years I was responsible for picking up his shit! Nothing brings you to awareness more quickly than realizing you are following an animal with the sole purpose of dealing with his most basic (and for some, odious) bodily function. There is a well-known story in which a Zen master is asked, "Do dogs have Buddha nature?" His cryptic reply was, "Even dog shit has Buddha nature!" What I have learned from interpretations of this story is that everything that exists, no matter what, has worth and a place in the universe. It is only our judgments and need to feed our egos that cause us to relegate people, animals, and minerals to be of lesser worth than we are. We share our Buddha nature with all of these things. That Duffy was sentient and possessed Buddha nature could never be in doubt.

The final, most painful, and perhaps the most important lesson Duffy taught me was that of impermanence. One of the core tenets of Buddhism is that, no matter what, everyone and everything that exists is impermanent and will perish. Try though we may, through whatever method, we cannot stave off the reality that at the moment of our birth, we are simultaneously given death. Untold amounts of time, effort, and money are expended trying to outrun this simple truth. For me, having a dog as a companion is a constant reminder of this. Under most circumstances, we outlive the dogs we invite to live with us. I have had two now, Gatsby and Duffy, both of whom breathed their last as I petted them for a final time. In those final moments, Duffy gave me his last lesson...that every moment is fleeting and precious and to be savored while it happens. I think I understand. Carpe Diem.

Monday, July 2, 2012

When I Take Refuge in the Buddha...


A couple of days ago, I was re-reading the book Being Peace by Vietnamese monk Thich Nhat Hanh. In a chapter called ‘The Three Gems” (Buddha, Dharma, Sangha) he made a statement that has stuck with me and has kept me thinking. He said, “When we say, ‘I take refuge in the Buddha, we should also understand that we are saying , “The Buddha takes refuge in me.” This simple statement is profound in its implications.

By saying, “I take refuge in the Buddha” we are not in any sense talking about hiding, but rather that for many of us, Buddha’s teachings have become a spiritual refuge that finally helped us to make sense of the lives we are living and the world in which we live. I cannot speak for others, but I know it was that way for me. When I discovered Buddhism, I felt like I had come home. Finding a philosophy (some may wish to call it a religion even though no being is worshipped) that had compassion and loving-kindness as its core principles just made me feel totally comfortable. As I delved into it more and learned more about the Dharma (Thich Nhat Hanh defines dharma as “the way of understanding and love”), I realized I had found a guide that would help me to interpret and respond to the moment-to-moment experiences in this life in a way that felt good and positive and right.  I was brought up in a strict Catholic family in which every aspect of our lives had to conform to Catholic dogma, and in which every moment held the possibility of “falling into sin.”  From a very early age, I felt strangled as perfectly natural aspects of my life, from swearing when I hit my thumb with a hammer to thinking about girls, were interpreted as “sinful”.  I found little comfort or experience of a loving presence there. Let me say at the outset that I am not denigrating Catholicism or any other religion or form of religious expression. Many people have found security there and live lives that are good and kind. I am only saying that it did not work for me, and in some ways did irreparable harm. My feeling for a long time has been that I don’t care if you worship an aardvark as long as it brings you to a place of compassion. The philosophy of loving-kindness in Buddhism has allowed me to attempt to treat all people equally and compassionately (we all fail at this from time to time and must forgive ourselves and try again), to avoid judgment to the best of my ability, and to separate revulsion at a particular human act from compassion for the human who committed that act. I truly believe that in all my years in the classroom, and particularly when I was a high school assistant principal, treating the students with kindness and compassion and seeing in them the flawed person I was at their age (and still am) made our interactions almost always pleasant and often enriching and beautiful for both of us.

The idea of applying this philosophy in our real day-to-day interactions with the world and its inhabitants brings me to the second part of the above-mentioned quote, ”…the Buddha takes refuge in me.”  It is a common statement in Buddhism that we all have Buddha nature, another way of saying that each of us is capable of awakening and moving toward enlightenment. In that way the Buddha lives within each of us.  So what?   Buddha takes refuge in us only in that without me, or you and all those who try to live the Dharma in our daily lives, all the Buddha’s teachings are so much dust in the wind. We may derive personal comfort from the practice, but only through our acting in ways that reflect what we have learned from the teachings, can those teachings be said to be useful or helpful to the world. The Buddha’s refuge in us can only be expressed by how we choose to behave in the real world in every interaction we have. We cannot hope to heal the whole world, but we can resolve to act as a model of compassionate living at work, at home, at the grocery store, or in the car during rush hour. And that will be enough to create some small change, even if it be for a person we don’t know who expected us to treat them with anger and is surprised to see that we don’t. That one occurrence can be the spark that enables them to see that each of us has the capacity to choose kindness, and that it feels better than strife. Unless we consistently try to act in a compassionate way toward all life forms with which we share this planet, the teachings of the Buddha cannot hope to result in the very real healing effect that is possible, and that is so desperately needed.