The Wolf at the Door

"A Native American grandfather was speaking to his grandson about violence and cruelty in the world and how it comes about. He said it was as if two wolves were fighting in his heart. One wolf was vengeful and angry, and the other wolf was understanding and kind. The young man asked his grandfather which wolf would win the fight in his heart. And the grandfather answered, "The one that wins will be the one I choose to feed."

So this is our challenge, the challenge for our spiritual practice and the challenge for the world--how can we train right now, not later, in feeding the right wolf?"--Pema Chodron, from Taking the Leap

I sometimes confuse kindness with weakness. Maybe it's because my tendency is to be non-confrontational, which means I go out of my way to please people, sometimes to my own detriment. When insulted, I pretend to turn the other cheek, while inside I'm fuming and wanting to fight back. I haven't yet mastered the art of defending myself in a way that doesn't infuse more anger into the situation. But when I pretend to turn the other cheek, or smile in the face of my critic, I feel weak, defenseless, small. Later I go over in my head all the things I WOULD have said, but even those retorts seem petty and apt to escalate the situation.

In a larger context, I think of people who are able to forgive others for unspeakable acts. Are they weak? Or are they strong for refusing to give into anger and the desire for revenge? I read news story after news story of people hurting one another, and I wonder how many of the victims forgive, and if so, how? Do they not want to contribute anymore hate in the world? That's pretty noble. I have said here before that my basic motto is an eye for an eye. Can I get beyond that? Is that the right thing to do?

Of course, it feels so much better to feel goodness toward others. If I see a father holding his daughter aloft on his shoulders I smile to myself and send them warm thoughts, remembering when I was a little girl and my father carried me in the same way. When I see an older woman in an electric wheelchair speed by me on the sidewalk, I think, good for her, even in the chair she whizzes right by me! And I wish her luck. These are nice moments, moments when I feel connected to others and when giving away kind thoughts is easy. But when confronted with ignorant people, or selfish people, or indifferent people, that's when being kind feels false. It's been said that trying to please people in every situation is a form of manipulation. I want things to go my way, so I'll try to control the situation by being "nice." But there are some situations that I can't control.

Ultimately, it's kindness and understanding that I strive for in my life. Why bring more anger into an already boiling-over world? But I want it to be genuine, not a means to get my own way or to protect myself from hurt.

New Pema Book!

Taking the Leap by Pema Chodron goes on sale 9/8/09. It's about freeing yourself from destructive habits and ways to live with courage and wisdom. She talks about the Buddhist concept of shenpa, which can be translated as "getting stuck" or "getting hooked." I have an advance copy and I'm looking forward to reading it and sharing insights from it.

Letting go of obsessing

"The attitude that results from the Buddhist orientation and practice is quite different from the "mistaken mentality." One actually experiences mind as fundamentally pure, that is, healthy and positive, and "problems" as temporary and superficial defilements. Such a viewpoint does not quite mean getting rid of problems, but rather shifting one's focus. Problems are seen in a much broader context of health: one begins to let go of clinging to one's neuroses and to step beyond obsession and identification with them. The emphasis is no longer on the problems themselves but rather on the ground of experience through realizing the nature of mind itself. When problems are seen in this way, then there is less panic and everything seems more workable."--Chogyam Trungpa, from The Pocket Chogyam Trungpa

I picked a longer quote this time because it all felt like it needed to be there. I definitely "cling" to my neuroses! In fact, the two of us are inseparable! I used to think it was because I was working in Manhattan, where there's a higher than usual concentration of neuroticism, but no, here I am in Boston, still obessessing about the same things, mulling over the same (or similar) problems. It used to be "when will I get a boyfriend?" and I'd shoot arrows with my eyes whenever I saw a happy couple pass me on the street. Then it was "when will I get married?" and I'd wander around Kate's Paper, looking despondently at the wedding display with the satin guestbooks and the Cranes Thank You cards with the line drawing of a bridal bouquet or a car with "Just Married" on the bumper. Yes, I was in it for the cute stationery.

Now it's "when will I feel at home in Boston?" and "when will I find some girlfriends to invite over on a random Tuesday night or to go for a drink with around the corner?" It's been a long time since I've had any local friendships; everyone I meet seems to live somewhere else, somewhere you need to take two trains to reach. My neighbors are about the right age and are friendly but busy with their own lives. I find myself walking around town alone, and wondering why. Once upon a time I had my group of girls whom I met up with regularly, saw movies with, invited over for wine and cheese parties, had long discussions with. Does that naturally go away when you're in your 30's and married? I don't want to depend on my husband as my only emotional outlet and source of entertainment. He's a great guy, but that's too much for him, and let's face it, he's not going to cluck over clothes or gossip with me.

I worry that maybe I've lost the knack for making close friendships. Maybe it's something that you're only good at for a while, and then the older and more guarded you become, it gets harder and harder.

So that's what I've been obsessing about, and I'm tired of it. Maybe it's like when you're looking for love. You always find it when you're not thinking about it.

Kind Mind

"We have to learn to be kinder to ourselves, much more kind. Smile a lot, although nobody is watching you smile. Listen to your own brook, echoing yourself. You can do a good job. Please give yourself a good time."--from The Pocket Chogyam Trungpa

What does it mean to be kind to ourselves? Does it mean being easy on ourselves when we fail? Does it mean it's OK to procrastinate because we're just being good to ourselves? For me, being kind to myself is scary. I mean, I can be kind to myself with a salon visit, or a new blouse, or a chocolate eclair. But truly being kind to myself...it would mean accepting the things I want to change but haven't. It might make me lazy and complacent and mediocre. I don't want to be kind to myself if that means I become a mediocre person.

Not that the alternative is working out so well. Chastising myself for not getting something done fast enough or not knowing how to do something, or having a bad hair day (or week) is supposed to whip me into shape, but it only seems to bog me down even more. My husband and I are alike in this way--the constant recording in our heads ticking off our failures is so loud that it drowns out the bird songs, the wind chimes, the pleasant things. And when has negative reinforcement ever worked for me?

I don't laugh enough or even smile enough. I take life too seriously, like it's a terminal affliction. Well, I guess it is, but still...Trungpa's phrase really resonated with me: please give yourself a good time. It's in my power to do this. How will I feel if, decades go by and I'm looking back from my sick bed, wondering why the heck I didn't have more fun?! I don't want to have that regret hanging over me. In fact I'm 35 and running out of time to be a more lighthearted, fun-loving girl. And I'm not just talking about the times when I'm tipsy or on vacation--I mean, a happy person even on a Thursday when nothing exciting has happened.

My friend Linda who I see every Tuesday has had some problems with depression. Because she's practically a shut-in, she spends a lot of time just staring at the wall. She struggles to find purpose in her life. I tell her she has purpose--everyone does--I mean, if she wasn't around her lovely cat Maxine would be homeless and probably even dead, her disabled friend Chris would not have someone to spend time with who he can also help out. I think depositing her checks and picking up coffee from Shaw's--even lending her his old laptop--makes him feel good. I'm starting to see how much people actually LIKE helping. Anyway, without Linda, both of us would be less.

So I encourage Linda to appreciate her life, even as I struggle to do the same. I tell her to take a short walk, get some sunshine on her face, read a great book, or cook something yummy. Linda plays the recorder, and performed for me. She's good and the sound is pleasant. If she can do more of these things--be kinder to herself and be more lighthearted--then maybe the depression will start to lift. Ditto for me.

Friday, 5:04PM

I'm playing around with the format, colors, header of the blog. It's fun, but the options--like in most supermarkets in this country--are overwhelming.

You may wonder why the cappucino and chocolate croissant? It's an example of a perfect "Now" moment for me. Wow, I sound like a commercial for Folger's. This is my "me" time!

I need to get away from the computer for a while...

"All that we are is the result of what we have thought. The mind is everything. What we think we become." -Buddha

I got this off of Daily Buddha. Say it aloud. Repeat.

It's like we are what we eat. That would make me a peanut butter sandwich or a strawberry parfait from Whole Foods.

We are what we think we are.

Here's the Story...

"When the storyline starts, we can do the tonglen practice of exchanging ourselves for others. In this way everything we meet has the potential to help us cultivate compassion and reconnect with the spacious, open quality of our minds."--Pema Chodron, from Comfortable with Uncertainty

In my lessons in Buddhism, I've learned that I need to be aware when I start to spin off into my own storyline. We all have a storyline, a running narrative with ourselves as the star. When someone gets in our way or is rude or dismissive, we take this personally and the rage becomes a part of our daily storyline. Being as reactive as I am, I find myself going along, not feeling particularly moody, when all of a sudden, Bam! the counter person in a taqueria where I've stopped to get a chicken burrito is rude to me . Bam! A woman steps in front of me to get on the train, causing me to be the last person to board even though I was the first one there. I end up having to exit the car because I'm standing on the stairs nearest the T conductor, and then I have to wait for another train, which makes me late for an appointment. Bam! I'm at the gym, weary from a difficult workout, and in the locker room I find that someone has laid out all their things on the bench in front of my locker, so I only have one small end for my own things. I employ the passive aggressive technique of kicking her sneakers away from my locker, knowing full well that she's right there, curling her stupid hair in the mirror and looking at me in the reflection. Instead of feeling better, I feel more angry, and just a little silly.

If only I had stopped a minute and said to myself, "Is this really all about me? Really?" Maybe that taqueria guy was rude because he's got a stressful home life. Maybe the woman who stepped in front of me to board the train didn't even see me. Maybe the woman who had strewn her stuff all over the bench was just dense and didn't realize she was being thoughtless. Is that making excuses for people? I don't know. All I know is I'm terribly angry today and kind of depressed, too (depression is anger turned inward, though right now my anger is definitely focused outward!) It would be nice to find a different way of thinking, one that didn't involve clenched teeth and the desire to step on someone's foot.

I bought a light box to put on my desk at work. Light therapy is supposed to help the winter blues, so I'm counting on it to help me. It's cold and snowy here in Boston, and we're only at the beginning of my least favorite month of the year. I've been trying to distract myself from bad feelings by doing some online shopping (Rue La La has some pretty good sample sale deals) and thinking about my trip to Paris at the end of June. And I try to get lots of hugs and kisses from my husband, Mike. One of the things that I love about him is that, although he gets easily angry like I do, he's also capable of being very affectionate. Doting even.

On a Pema audio book I was listening to over the weekend, Pema suggests spending a week thinking about someone who loves you and doing everything you can to receive that love. I'll bite. But is there anyone else besides my husband who loves me even when I'm at my brattiest? My mother, certainly. The cat likes me, but only because I regularly feed and scratch her. She does not love me when I chase her away from the pumpkin tea cake on the counter. I'm not sure about my two best girlfriends--I mean, I think they love me and wouldn't bolt if I showed my anger or stubborness, but I haven't really put them to the test (well, maybe I have, I just didn't know it at the time!)

So I invite you to also try the Pema homework--think about the people or animals that love you best, and try to receive that love fully and openly. This is the first step to being capable of loving back. Ultimately, if we can learn to love ourselves and the people we're closest to, eventually we can learn to love strangers and not blame them for disrupting our life or our good mood. That's the theory, anyway.