Aloha Sangha

ancient wisdom for crazy times

Tag: U Tejaniya

what if I don’t feel compassion?
When you don’t feel compassion as you scroll through the daily newsfeed horror show- just be aware of not feeling particularly compassionate.
I have received emails from readers asking whether we can cultivate a mature mindfulness practice and not feel particularly compassionate, especially regarding the state of the world.
The horrors reported on media channels we tune into leave me exhausted, someone writes.
I can’t seem to brace myself to accept, or even try to understand, much of what is happening,
writes another.
One could argue whether compassion is an obligation in the forms of Buddhist practice we find today. My concern, though, is compassion seen as obligation can lead to struggle and the thoughts expressed by the readers noted above.
Many of us carry some early conditioning around religion, e.g., to enter the Kingdom we must be pious, kind, compassionate, etc.
And when we come across an Eastern teaching implying compassion is a big deal, we automatically interpret this as something we now have to learn to do, to master.
But what if compassion is not so much a requirement for a mature practice, but the natural welling-up of warmth towards all beings as a result of a maturing practice?
Compassion as a natural welling up differs from compassion as the outcome of effort.
I admit that amid the horror show of images in my newsfeed , the thought arises at times “Shouldn’t I be feeling more compassionate here?”
What is I don’t feel compassion? Dreamers (ca. 1850) by Albert Joseph Moore
But what if I notice that thought as just another in a long line of thoughts based on should vs should not, and realize I’d be better off by not shoulding myself?
Let’s back up and unpack this.
1. I was scrolling through a newsfeed and saw pictures of dozens of corpses strewn about a town in Libya devastated last week by a huge typhoon.
2. The thought arises “I really should really feel more compassionate than I seem to be feeling right now” (especially after what happened on Maui).
3. I start thinking I’m not much of a Buddhist meditator, and I’ll never make any progress.
Our insight meditation comes to the rescue at the third juncture above- where we convince ourselves that if we don’t feel compassion for the pain of others we have no hope of ever progressing on this path.
Hopefully, our mindfulness kicks in and asks: Can we simply make room for whatever arises?
This is a point I find myself coming back to again and again, from different angles and approaches, until I get this: this path is all about mindfulness.
And living and breathing mindfulness is a lifelong practice.
As our mindfulness practice matures, when thoughts like these arise, we don’t take the bait.
When we think we should feel a certain way, rather than focus on the “should” and descend into self-judgment, we stay at the level of noting the should and its subtle effects on the organism, e.g., a tightness in the belly, or a subtle fear creeping in.
As we do this we catch a break. We step out of our conditioning for a few blessed moments.
The secret to a mature spiritual practice?
Make room for, and be attentive to, whatever arises without getting entangled.
When we don’t feel particularly compassionate as we scroll through the daily newsfeed horror show- just be aware of not feeling compassionate.
Stay with that awareness and explore its tendrils in the body and mind and notice how it changes and morphs moment by moment.
There might come a moment when the repulsion fades, just be aware of that. If compassion wells up, be aware of that. And if it doesn’t, it’s not really your concern.
The contemporary Burmese teacher U Tejaniya frequently talks about this central issue. Here he is recently speaking to retreatants:
“There’s almost a mantra in the way I teach,” Sayadaw says.
We’re not practicing to make things happen in the mind, such as equanimity, or to make things go away, such as fear or uncertainty.
Rather, we practice observing things as they are happening, and to understand how things are from this close observation.
Practice As Usual
Just stay with mindfulness- it’s your refuge.
09/24/2023
it’s now or never
Mindfulness loosens the “interminable chain of longing” as Robert Frost puts it, so I have half a chance of living this moment now.
One of my first meditation teachers, Sharon Salzberg, often talks about her early days learning how to meditate in India under her teacher, Munindra. One of his first counsels to her was:
Try to be with each breath as though it was your first, and as though it was your last.
Anagarika Munindra
Being with each breath as if it were the first is a training wheel exercise for being with any moment as if it were for the first time.
Can we live each conversation we have over breakfast with our housemate as it it were our first?
Can we search for that super important email as though it were for the first time we misplaced an email- without the uncessary inner friction (e.g. why does this always happen)?
if I don’t remember this, I get bored or restless
I notice that when I don’t try to do this I fall into a kind of wistfulness, boredom, or restlessness; mind states Robert Frost perhaps describes in this line from one of his last poems:
All is an interminable chain of longing.
The Anxiety of Happiness
Just being here, being present is enough– I didn’t do a good job at modeling this maxim of mindfulness to our kids as they were growing up. When some cool new event was coming up, like a birthday, or an outing, I would remind tell them from time to time- you know, your friend’s birthday party is coming up.
As if anticipating a birthday party were more important than whatever it was we were doing at the moment, like getting ready for the day or eating dinner.
Isn’t this something we all do- sacrifice the present moment for some imagined future one?
I catch myself wanting, waiting for, or expecting something, anything but this boring present moment- practically all day long.
It’s like I’m on hold on a call I placed to myself.
Mindfulness helps loosen the “interminable chainof longing” as Frost puts it, so I have half a chance of living this moment now. And having a more intimate experience with whatever is arising.
Sayadaw U Tejaniya of Burma reminds us:
Nothing is ever the same, every moment is always new. Once you can really see this, your mind will always be interested in whatever it observes. No moment will ever bore because your experience shows that “things” are forever changing
Sayadaw U Tejaniya
Mindfulness loosens the grip of concepts and opinions have on me about how things should be. I feel more open and soft with how things are if I can remember to invite mindfulness.
U to Shirasagi by Utamaro Kitagawa (1753-1806); original from Library of Congress
That last part of Munindra’s advice to Sharon, to be with each breath as though it were the last, becomes more meaningful the older I get. It brings front and center a complacency that can set in when my practice starts to feel stale.
It’s amazing how out of touch with reality I can get if I’m not mindful.
Sharon’s teaching partner of many decades, Joseph Goldstein, observes:
It’s like we’ve been put under a spell—believing that this or that is going to be the source of our ultimate freedom or happiness. And to wake up from that spell, to be more aligned with what is true, it brings us much greater happiness.
This is the priceless gift of our mindfulness practice- to be intimate with our moment by moment experience whatever it is– is to wake from this spell of postponement.
To answer that call you placed to yourself after being on hold so long.
In the words of the late Krishnamurti:
Freedom is now or never.
Choose now.
08/06/2023
Buddhist death meditation: letting go of regrets
Buddhist death meditation encourages a gradual letting go of regrets.
In her most recent book, Alive Until You’re Dead: Notes on the Home Stretch, the 81-year-old Zen teacher, editor and writer Susan Moon relates an ordeal she went through while riding on public transit from Berkeley to the San Francisco airport.
When she got to the airport, she realized that her carry-on bag, which had her IDs, credit cards, cash, appointment book and teaching notes, had been stolen.
She writes she felt “stripped of everything.”
She could not board her flight to her teaching gig without her ID, but she still had her round-trip public transit ticket. So she took the train back to Berkeley. And on the way home, she had an epiphanic insight.
Yes, she lost some valuable stuff, but she suddenly realized she still had her life, her body, her family, and her friends.
“I touched my own knees in amazement, and wanted to jump up and down in the train, shouting, `I’m alive! I’m alive!’ She writes:
The theft was a strange gift. I lost some objects, yes, and I gained a sense of gratitude for my life that is still with me. I often forget how amazing it is to be alive, but if I concentrate, I can open a drawer in my mind and find the memory of that train ride.
My life feels more complicated each day, with a ridiculous number of choices to make and noise to filter out. I get stuck in overwhelm mode. My system gets bogged down, flooded with sticky memories triggered by the media.
As much as I try to practice culture war pacifism, the news still gets to me. But then I reflect on the words of the American Buddhist monk, Ajahn Nisabho:
There is a role for political discussion, for talking to people about what is meaningful. But it’s very important to understand that as practitioners of this path, you have stepped into a higher order narrative and received something which is far more important than the political debate of the day.
Reading this, I take a breath and try to connect with this “higher order narrative.”
I appreciate the late Indian philosopher Krishnamurti’s words here:
You think you’re thinking your thoughts. You are not. You are thinking the culture’s thoughts.
Yeah, and many of us even take our cell phones to bed with us. I admit to being guilty as charged (or maybe guilty when charged–my phone, that is.)
what is this higher order narrative?
The other day I sat in meditation, turning Ajahn Nisabho’s phrase over in my head: what is this higher order narrative I have stepped into? And as nature would have it, I had my own epiphanic insight.
I’m not sure I can describe it in my own words, but a few lines from the poem “When Death Comes,” by Mary Oliver kept coming up.
When it’s over, I want to say: all my life I was a bride married to amazement. I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.
perfect just as it is right now
Our simple mindfulness shows us this amazing, crazy world is perfect, just as it is right now. It couldn’t be otherwise.
Yes, even my life as it is right now: overweight, under-exercised, and not looking forward to the long drive home in heavy morning traffic from my night shift job.
I used to feel quite depressed. A part of me was consumed with fantasies and expectations: my kids, my marriage, my meditation practice, my crazy job.
I’m much happier now.
letting go of these fantasies of some other life
Finding happiness was about letting go of these fantasies and realizing that life is truly amazing without them. I would even say–especially without them.
My higher order narrative is just this: when I lie on my deathbed, can I let go of any regrets for having just been me?
Thank you Suan Moon, for the gift of having your bag stolen on public transit, and for sharing it with us.
05/30/2023
when is the best time to meditate?
… when the mind complains it does NOT want to meditate, says the Buddhist monk U Tejaniya
I’m going to assume that you are like most of us who are into meditation–you struggle maintaining a regular practice, right; you might even ask when is the best time to meditate.
The instructions are so very simple—be aware of what is happening in the present moment. And yet, right away, we find this challenging and humbling.
We see that the mind has a mind of its own and won’t easily settle down.
Even for people I know who have been meditating for forty years–daily practice is not always a cakewalk.
When I was in graduate school we learned that the main work in therapy was working with our resistance. I think it was Irving Yalom who remarked that therapists meet clients where they are and take them where they don’t want to go.
This is what Saydaw U Tejaniya was saying in the opening line of this post. The best time to meditate is when our resistance is front and center. When we follow his advice we chip away at the basic resistance we all experience as humans.
Portrait of a Woman by Julie de Graag (1877-1924).
One of the first let downs is meditation is not what we thought it would be.
We are not trying to have an out of body experience, quipped one teacher, we are trying to have an in the body experience – with how we are, just as we are, in the present moment.
I remember reading a conversation between Jack Kornfield and Pema Chodron some years ago. They were talking about what makes the Buddhist approach to meditation special or remarkable, to which Pema Chodron added:
The Buddhist teachings are fabulous at simply working with what’s happening as your path of awakening, rather than treating your life experiences as some kind of deviation from what is supposed to be happening.
When I read that I just sighed. What a relief!
It’s good to create space, get settled, and have a little bliss-out at times.
But it’s during those moments that test our resolve that we see where we are stuck and what we need to work on, to let go of.
And what we work on in meditation generalizes out into our life.
That’s the magic of meditation.
Mindfulness is about getting down to the nitty gritty of our lives, exposing our vulnerability, and being with “whatever comes your way” as Sayadaw U Tejaniya says:
Looking for something which we think we are supposed to see is not mindfulness meditation. Mindfulness meditation is just being aware of whatever comes your way.
The nitty gritty of our lives is just this cup of far too hot coffee, this car which needs new tires, and which may not get me all the way to work today, or these construction workers invading my quiet morning.
Life isn’t supposed to go anyway in particular. And neither does our meditation.
We just show up for what is. Pema Chödrön explains:
We get misled by the ads in magazines where people are looking blissful in their matching outfits, which also match their meditation cushions. We can get to thinking that meditation is about transcending the difficulties of your life and finding this just-swell place.
But that doesn’t help you very much because that sets you up for being constantly disappointed with what happens every day at breakfast, lunch, and dinner—all day long.
A frequent complaint I hear from students is they can never find the right time to meditate.
If you are alive, like now would be a very good time.
Let’s have Sayadaw U Tejaniya of Burma have the last words:
Don’t assume conditions are bad for practice. There is a lot you can learn from what you think are unfavorable conditions for meditation. There may be unhappiness or suffering. Don’t make judgments that these conditions are bad for practice.
In Dhamma, there is only what’s happening. Accept the situation and be aware.
read another?
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07/10/2022
on having no goals
As you set out on your meditation journey- avoid aggressive self-improvement. There isn’t anything to improve; the present moment is just fine as it is.
One of the trickiest aspects of mindfulness meditation is the whole thing about letting go of goals. It seems to make no sense at all to not have any goal for our meditation practice. I mean, if there weren’t any real benefits to this practice, sure, there would be no reason to continue this odd behavior.
But since there are, and we feel them, what’s wrong with seeing these benefits as goals? Like feeling more relaxed, happier, more peaceful and present. What’s wrong with wanting to feel more peaceful and less harried?
the problem with goal-directed meditation
We are told the problem is goal-directed meditation impedes appreciating the peace that’s already here. That goals trick us on a pre—conscious level into believing there is something better down the road as long as we keep up the practice.
A better, more improved peace. A peace 2.0. But If we bite on this hook, the here and now feels less peaceful.
That’s what makes this practice so tricky. Biting on that hook keeps us on the hamster wheel of evaluating and comparing. Of liking/ disliking. Of wanting/ not wanting. Of not good enough.
Sure, we are drawn to meditation out of a desire to feel better in some way–in an everyday sort of way, or perhaps in a more existential way. But here’s the rub–desire is desire, even if it’s wearing a cosmic cloak.
we can get agitated if a meditation session doesn’t turn out the way we expected
If we meditate with this desire to feel good, we internalize that meditation is all about feeling good, calm, and peaceful. And when we don’t feel calm or peaceful, we can get frustrated, even agitated.
We’ve just encountered the central issue the historical Buddha emphasized in his whole teaching career–that we somehow insist on having an experience other than the one we are having.
Every moment our nervous system is engaged in pre-conscious binary processing of sensory input as safe/ dangerous, of pleasant/ unpleasant. Then liking and disliking happen, which leads to the hamster wheel of wanting and not wanting.
The Buddha called this last process tanha, thirst. And if we examine all our day-to-day activities the Buddha claimed, we encounter this thirst on many levels. Even the small shifting movements you make while sitting on your chair in your office–not liking the sensations arises, so you shift, only to later not like those, either.
the four Noble Truths
This is the first of the Buddha’s well-known Four Noble Truths: the arising of tanha in the mind sets off a subtle chain reaction of –>> liking/ not liking–>> wanting/ not wanting–>> eventually culminating in the many varieties dukkha–stress, disappointment, pain, loss, anguish.
How we can skillfully relate to this tanha, evident even at the per-conscious level, is the central concern of our meditation practice.
This is on a micro-level. On a macro-level, this plays out as the insatiable greed of empires, the hatred between religions, the delusion of indoctrination and indifference.
But it’s the very same mechanism, which starts pre-consciously with evaluation, comparison, liking, disliking and quickly proceeds to happiness and sorrow on increasing orders of scale, often below the horizon of conscious awareness.
the Buddha’s answer
The Buddha’s answer was to nip liking and disliking in the bud, before it has time to muster an army. As we notice the thoughts, sensations, and sounds that arise in the mind, we practice non-reactivity.
The thoughts will settle on their own. We notice liking and not liking, but we don’t bite the hook. We don’t jump in and take sides. Expecting our meditation to produce certain results is taking sides big time.
Yes, we all start with a rebellious mind. That’s why this practice of goal-less non-reactivity takes a lot of patience. After we have been sitting for a few minutes, the mind can feel bored–> liking/ not liking. It wants to stimulate itself with some spicy fantasy, or when it’s melancholic, it wants to cheer itself up–> wanting/ not wanting.
And when it’s restless, tired, or cranky, it just wants to dive into a slice of Mac and Cheese Pizza.
don’t set yourself up for failure
As we set out on the meditation journey, it is crucial to avoid setting ourselves up for failure and avoid aggressive self-improvement. There isn’t anything to improve. It’s just about embracing now, without trying to improve or tweak anything. Trying to tweak things just brings more frustration.
And really, the present moment is un-tweak-able. It’s just fine as it is, and so are you.
When reflecting on his teaching experience the contemporary Burmese meditation teacher Sayadaw U Tejaniya observes,
Many yogis tell me that meditation is difficult. What they are actually saying is that they cannot get what they want.
Ok, so we just explored the tricky issues of having goals for your meditation journey. We saw how they can create more problems than they solve.
mindless zombies?
If that’s the case, then are we to become mindless zombies when we sit on our cushions to meditate?
No, the issue was that goals tend to lead us out of the present moment by the process of comparing and evaluating we just talked about.
However, the true goal of our practice has never changed: the continual awareness of the present moment just as it unfolds, prior to the arising of liking and disliking, free of conceptual overlays.
Sayadaw U Tejaniya offer this guidance:
Don’t practice with a mind that wants something, or wants something to happen, or wants something to stop happening. The result will only be that you tire yourself out. You are not trying to make things turn out the way you want them to happen; you are trying to know what is happening as it is.
Just hang in there with all the liking/ disliking, and watch the wanting/ not wanting without jumping in to fix your unease. Yeah, takes patience alright, but it’s worth it.
After practicing like this, goal preoccupation slowly starts to wither. Those thoughts may still crop up; you just won’t care about them as much anymore.
And If it doesn’t go like this for you at first, it’s alright. Just continue your goal-less, present-moment centered practice.
You’ll thank me later.
05/03/2022
letting go of wanting happiness
Folks who meditate in order to feel better often find the opposite. Eventfully they see that it’s the letting go of the wanting of happiness, that actually brings it!
I can begin to answer by sharing a haiku I recently found:
Since my house burned down
I now have a better view
of the rising moon.
This moving haiku was written by Mizuta Masahide, a 17^th century poet and samurai. It has spoken to me deeply many times.
I am often asked why I meditate.
Depending on who asks, I answer something like – To clearly see why I suffer, and with that understanding to cultivate peace of mind and a kind heart.
I have personally found mindfulness practice does just that.
After his own spiritual awakening, the Buddha distilled his understanding of our human situation into three insights, traditionally known, in an awkward sounding translation, as the three marks of existence.
The three facts of life
Let’s just call them the three facts of life:
1. Everything is temporary;
2. We habitually react to our world with resistance, felt as tension and suffering; and
3. Nothing solidly happens by itself, everything is contingent on causes and conditions.
There is a cool feeling of relief when I acknowledge these facts for myself. They help me appreciate what’s truly important in this fleeting world.
They wake me up as I move through my life in a kind of daze, checking email on my phone, going from one task and one distraction to another.
Because everything is changing, a flower has poignancy. When I realize this, I pause.
And because everything is evanescent, everything is precious. Our obligation is to spend this moment well, with wisdom and compassion
Because I suffer at times, “the sure heart’s release” is more appealing.
And because everything is contingent on something else, I appreciate my interconnection and responsibility to everyone and everything.
The Korean monk Haemin Sunim, in his lovely book The Things You Can See Only When You Slow Down, expresses the third fact in this way:
The whole universe is contained in an apple wedge in a lunch box. Apple tree, sunlight, cloud, rain, earth, air, farmer’s sweat are all in it. Delivery truck, gas, market, money, cashier’s smile are all in it. Refrigerator, knife, cutting board, mother’s love are all in it.
Everything in the whole universe depends on one another.
The Buddha taught that deeply experiencing these three facts with mindfulness in our daily life brings about wisdom and compassion, and greatly eases our distress and anxiety. I love Sylvia Boorstein’s line:
Life is like a continuous quiz show where the only question ever asked is:
“How are you going to manage whatever is happening now without confusing yourself and creating suffering?“
And daily life is the best place to practice releasing needless suffering and growing in love and compassion. Our everyday lives serve up unending opportunities that catch us, triggering our habitual reactions of “liking and disliking.”
Mindfulness allows us to catch ourselves before life does.
The issue is we find ourselves wanting to have a different experience in other than the one we are having.
For example, folks are often drawn to meditation out of a desire to feel better in some way. But if we meditate with this desire to feel good, we selectively internalize that meditation is all about feeling good, calm, and peaceful.
And when we don’t feel calm or peaceful, we can get frustrated, even agitated.
Despite repeated encouragement to relax and let go of our ideas about meditation, and our fantasies of how we should feel when it works, it can take a while for this to really sink in.
it’s the letting go of the wanting of happiness, that actually brings it.
letting go of the notion of self-improvement
Crucial to the practice is learning to be radically OK with ourselves just as we are in the present moment. In doing so, we also let go of the notion of self-improvement.
Mindfulness meditation often starts out by working with an uncooperative and rebellious mind. You know this mind-it’s the one that spaces out, goes into la-la land, feels anxious, and wants out.
It’s the mind that opens its eyes during group meditation, looks at the clock, and says “Ugh, ten more minutes!”
Mindfulness takes us right up to the boundaries of our physical and emotional discomfort. But it allows us to be OK there, to settle down, and lose the fear.
Folks who meditate in order to feel better often find the opposite. Eventfully they see that it’s the letting go of the wanting of happiness, that actually brings it!
Sayadaw U Tejaniya of Burma writes:
Don’t practice with a mind that wants something or wants something to happen. The result will only be that you tire yourself out.
In time you will delight in ordinary mental presence, and you forget about extraordinary anything. Extraordinary experiences are not the goal of meditation. They do come and go, as side –effects of your practice.
This is a huge turning point in your practice – the more you let go, the happier you are. You clearly see that ultimate liberation is the ultimate letting go of everything.
I will leave you this week with the words of the Thai forest teacher Ajahn Chah.
Do everything with a mind that lets go. Don’t accept praise or gain or anything else. If you let go a little you a will have a little peace; if you let go a lot you will have a lot of peace; if you let go completely you will have complete peace.
Hey, is that a moon I see up there?
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10/19/2018