Taking Refuge

I continue to read Buddha’s Brain by Rick Hanson, and I really appreciate learning the scientific findings of the value of meditation, how it “increases gray matter in the brain regions that handle attention, compassion and empathy.” He says that reports show that “It also helps a variety of medical conditions, strengthens the immune system, and improves psychological functioning.” This has certainly been my experience, and the experience of so many regular meditators I know, but it is fascinating to see the science of it. When I think of how often I was sick as a child and a young adult before I took up meditation, and how strong my immune system is now, according to recent blood work, I have to believe that meditation is a key reason. One of my students, upon hearing that I haven’t had a cold or flu in years said, “Just wait ‘til your granddaughter’s in day care!” She’s right. The health benefits of meditation will be put to the ultimate test!

Back in the 1980’s when I was an ad exec, I remember telling myself I was ‘too busy’ to do any meditative practice, even though I knew full well how nourishing the practice was for me. After a while I got so ill with chronic fatigue immune dysfunction syndrome that I had to quit my job and be flat on my back for the better part of the day for nine months! Who’s too busy now? I had to quit my job and one of the things I still could do was meditate. So I had myself a very deep and extended personal ‘retreat.’ I was very fortunate to have the practice in my life again, for I healed from this usually chronic and life long condition in record time. I’ll never know what part of my treatment effected the cure, but I know that my inner journey at the very least made me available for healing. Now reading the scientific finds, I can allow myself to give the meditation even more of the credit for my well being. And the inner journey resulted in the book Tapping the Wisdom Within, A Guide to Joyous Living.

There was a week in 2007 when we were buying our casa in Mexico and running around stressing out, feeling very deadline-driven, trying to get the house sufficiently furnished with diminishing funds before our return flight to the US, so we could rent it out, when I was suddenly stricken and bed-bound with a strange dizzy disease. Again, I had had 'no time' to meditate! So maybe the illness was just a note to self to slow down and return to regular meditation practice.

While I feel perfectly healthy right now, and have a strong meditation practice in place after being less consistent during our recent stay in Mexico, I am noticing that I have been feeling an incredible amount of physical pressure as I work towards deadlines on taxes and other projects. Sitting with it I notice that it feels like I am being ground and put into sausage casings! Ugh! But what a useful thing to notice. Another note to self.

So it was very helpful to me to come upon Rick Hanson’s mention of the Three Refuges. I realized that I have not addressed them in any dharma talk but they are so important!

They are important to me right now as I go through not just tax time but a period of transitioning back into the American way of life after the easy flow of Mexican living, and trying to be fully present at this time of holding great joy at the birth of my granddaughter and some worry at the same time as a close family member is scheduled for surgery.

When we are skillful enough to be able to hold both extremes of our current experience in an open hearted balance, the result is Upekka, the fourth of the Four Brahmaviharas, the heavenly abodes that are the precious gifts of the practice of meditation.

But what does ‘skillful’ mean? It means that instead of grasping at the joy and pushing away or avoiding thinking about the fear, we are simply aware of them, aware of the effects of them in our lives, our bodies, our thoughts and emotions. Skillfulness is making room for them to exist in our experience without over-dramatizing them, discounting them, getting lost in them, or using them as leverage to catapult some inappropriate behavior out into the world. Instead, through meditation, we create an interior spaciousness for all of our experience to be noticed and acknowledged. This is skillfulness.

When we do feel overwhelmed by what arises, we are encouraged to take refuge.

A person without the benefit of meditative awareness training might be more likely to take ‘refuge’ in things that lead away from mindfulness and potentially become addictive. Typical examples of this are going to extremes with eating, drinking, drugs, gambling, escapist books, computer games or chats, movies, television, computer, exercise, work, shopping, socializing, etc. When we pursue these extreme routes we literally lose ourselves in them, and thus we feel a temporary sense of relief from whatever is bothering us, whatever fear we are trying to avoid. But the route itself creates even more problems and doesn’t allow us to deal with and heal from the experience we are so desperately trying to avoid.

The Buddha advised taking refuge within the experience itself. It may seem counter-intuitive, but being with the experience is the most powerful healing tool we have. But how do we stay present with the experience if it is so painful? How do we cope with this sense of being overwhelmed or not in the driver’s seat of our lives?

We take refuge. Real refuge.

How I experience this in my body is easier to demonstrate than to describe. But I’ll try: Imagine a normal stance. Then imagine that you see a great weight coming your way that you will have to receive and carry. How do you adjust your stance? Well, a skillful adjustment would be to have a solid footing, then let your knees flex, your hips drop a bit, so your whole stance deepens, so that your arms rise up from your core when they open to receive and carry this extra weight. There is also an alert presence to changing conditions.

This is a good way to think about how we cope with emotional weight as well. A solid footing, greater flexibility, a deepening, and working from the core, and staying fully present for our experience.

The Three Refuges don’t talk about stance, but you can see how they too provide a solid footing, flexibility, deepening and staying present with the core of our experience. Perhaps you’ll see that too as we discuss them. Perhaps not. But here they are:

First we take refuge in the Buddha. We take refuge in the historical Buddha’s generosity of spirit, thinking upon how he shared his wisdom freely for forty years as a dedicated teacher. We take refuge in knowing about the struggles he went through, allowing ourselves to be inspired by his dedication to liberate himself and all beings from suffering. We take refuge in the fact that for over 2500 years in this tradition, and in many other traditions as well, there have been other awakened beings, and many practitioners and teachers from whom we can draw strength and inspiration.

We take refuge in the faith that, given all who have trod this path before us, we too have the seed of Buddha nature within us, the potential to wake up to this moment in every moment, if only we set our intention to be available for it’s wisdom to inform us. This is taking refuge in the Buddha.

Secondly we take refuge in the Dharma. Dharma is the Sanskrit word that means ‘truth’ or ‘the teachings.’ (In Pali it is dhamma, and even though the Theravada tradition is based in the Pali language, dharma is often used because it was introduced to the West earlier and it stuck, so either one is acceptable.)

Dharma is the recognition that suffering exists in the world, and in ourselves -- the First Noble Truth.

It is the recognition that the cause of suffering is our grasping and pushing away -- the Second Noble Truth.

It is the recognition that while pain is unavoidable, it is possible to not amplify the pain by the suffering we cause ourselves and others through our unskillfulness -- the Third Noble Truth.

And it is recognizing that the path to skillfulness in overcoming suffering is The Eightfold Path: Right (or Wise) View, Intention, Mindfulness, Concentration, Effort, Action, Speech and Livelihood -- the Fourth Noble Truth.

These Four Noble Truths form a solid foundation of Buddhist teachings. We take refuge in this solid foundation for our own exploration of the truth for ourselves in each moment.

Third, we take refuge in the Sangha. Sangha is the pali word for the community of meditation practitioners whose presence helps us to stay on the path, whose wisdom and insights in their own lives helps us to see more clearly when we are suffering or unskillfully trying to escape from the pain in our lives. Like the network of roots in a redwood grove, the sangha supports us all, allowing us to be flexible and resilient.

The Three Refuges are also called the Triple Gem or the Pali word tisarana.

At the beginning of each Buddhist retreat, the assembled retreatants together take these Three Refuges, in a chant. To see the chant, click here.

But we don’t have to be on retreat, the refuges are available to each of us in every moment, and it was so nice to be reminded as I was reading Buddha’s Brain, that this might be a time for me to take refuge.

If the Pali or Sanskrit words don’t resonate for you, or the Buddha isn’t your cuppa, it’s worth taking a little time to determine first of all, the inspirational figure whose wisdom and values you aspire to. This is not in order to be like them, but to notice and strengthen the resonant qualities in yourself through recognition and appreciation.

Accessing the dharma is to tap into the universal wisdom from which the dharma springs. During my almost year-long period of illness back in the early 1990’s, I meditated so intensively that I accessed this universal source of wisdom, through my own quirky lens, and chronicled it in my book long before beginning to study Buddhism.

So it’s not that Buddhism has the corner on the wisdom market. It’s just that it expresses it with such clarity, and has transmitted these teachings through millennia with great success at retaining the original message and inspiring us to look within rather than requiring us to trust blindly in the findings of others.

In different cultures this will take on different forms of expression, but there will be an underlying clarity of truth that brings forth compassion for ourselves and others, a sense of interconnection so that we know that we are not alone in the world, and how that brings both comfort and responsibility, and a willingness to be with whatever arises in the moment with an open heart.

So find the words of wisdom that speak most clearly to you.
Whatever teachings resonate truth for you, work with them in a state of curiosity. Question ‘Is this true?” and sit with the answer. Insight meditation is this active openness to exploration. It is this continual opening and exploring that keeps spiritual life alive. To simply memorize and spout words is not taking them in in a meaningful way. Certainly there are religious personages throughout history who insist that dogma be force-fed and taken on their word alone, but this is not the tradition that the Buddha taught. He taught his own findings along with the means for each of us to find out the truth for ourselves. His way was to empower each of us to find our way, rather than use his knowledge as power over others.

The third refuge, the Sangha, is the people in our lives who support our practice and our spiritual well being. It’s worthwhile to consider who those people are, so that when we are feeling overwhelmed and less able to make such considerations, we will have a ready idea of whom we might call upon to be a refuge in time of need.

When we ourselves are feeling overwhelmed is not the time to spend with those whose energy depletes us. When we are feeling more in balance, we can be there for them, of course. But for now, we send them metta, loving kindness, but take refuge in company that nourishes us.

I have heard it said that taking refuge in the Buddha, Dharma and Sangha is the only requirement to be a Buddhist. And although we’re not about ‘being’ Buddhists, but about studying Buddhist concepts and practicing Buddhist techniques for awakening, we can still see that this act of taking refuge is a valuable one, whatever words we use.

Medical Metta - My Hospital Stay

(Image info: Painting by artist Leslie Johnson as her way of sending metta during my surgery.)

Last week I spent three days in the hospital having a total hip replacement. There were many opportunities for sending metta!

In pre-op there were two children who were, like me, being prepped for surgery, and both were absolutely charming the socks off the pre-op staff. One was a little girl having her tonsils removed, the other a slightly older boy named Sam, who talked very knowledgeably to the girl, assuring her about her upcoming surgery. He spoke at such a high level of detail that I looked questioningly at my prep nurse.

“His fifth surgery,” she whispered. We exchanged a sad look. No small child should know that much about such a subject. Dinosaurs, asteroids, jelly fish – that’s the body of knowledge his bright mind might pursue. But for him, for now, it was all things surgical. Of course, I wasn’t privy to his medical history or prognosis, but I too was absolutely charmed by his warm generous bedside manner:

“That part’s not so bad, don’t worry about that,” he assured his smaller neighbor. "But that other stuff does have a funny taste. You get used to it.”

As Sam’s bed was wheeled out and down the hall to his operating room, I found myself wrapping his little body in healing light. And soon I was doing it again to the girl going in for her tonsillectomy, and then to her parents who lingered behind briefly, holding each others’ hands, waving anxiously, before being escorted to the waiting room. I remember what it was to have a small child going off to a simple outpatient surgery: scary!

Into this bustling hive of activity, beds were rolling in and out like trains. Soon I was surrounded with patients far less brave than Sam. I wished them well in their surgeries also, and sent metta to the pre-op staff as they did their jobs whenever I wasn’t, um, otherwise engaged.

I was struck by how the environment changed in response to the various personalities within it. Sam’s warmth was so radiant, the room had felt like a fiesta. There are no doubt people in the world who are just naturally able to conduct massive amounts of loving kindness, felt by all around them, and Sam may be one of those. Or he may be that bounteous out of his own hard-earned wisdom, having found light in the darkness and the deep desire to share it with all.

Finally it was my bed that was moving and soon I was in the icy cool pristine operating room looking up into the friendly faces of my surgeon and his staff. Those faces gave me anchor for the last little metta I could send before I went under anesthesia. May you be well, may you perform your job with precision, may you be fully in the moment.

Behind the circle of the surgery team, I sensed the loving kindness, prayers and good thoughts of friends and family in a widening circle of well being, all focused on the care of my body and the success of this surgery. I had requested these thoughts, prayers and metta, and I know many responded. I was not asking for their busy lives to stop and all attention to be directed toward me. I was asking that, if they happened to remember it during that morning to send a little thought my way. I trust that all the metta I needed is the metta that comes naturally out of our pre-existing loving connections. In that way, it didn’t feel too much to ask.

If anyone misunderstood my request and actually sat down and focused on the surgery for any lengthy time, I thank them for it and honor their practice, knowing that whatever they did is of value to themselves as well.

Anyway, all the metta and prayers and thoughts seemed to have worked very well. When I came out of the total fog of anesthesia I drowsily followed the activity in the post-op room. I saw the little girl in her father’s arms being taken home after her tonsillectomy. I inquired about Sam’s surgery and was told that all had gone well.

Eventually I was wheeled to a room on the fifth floor I would share with another woman whose leg looked to be held together by an exo-skeleton of metal rods, pins, screws and clamps straight out of a sci-fi movie.

I was thoroughly drugged and iced, and wasn’t feeling much of anything but exhausted, but she seemed to be in excruciating pain, and throughout the evening I sent her as much metta as I could muster as I wafted in and out of consciousness.

I also bathed myself in the loving light of healing, trying to keep my mind relaxed and unattached. Letting my breath rise and fall as deeply as possible, per instructions, I used the plastic handheld Spiro meter prescribed to counter the dangers of shallow breathing.

But I found it difficult to focus on my own healing with my roommate’s ongoing all night cries, screams, moans and general talking to herself. I got little sleep and was amazed that in the morning, I actually felt okay, thanks to morphine and ice packs.

And because I did feel all right, and because she was still in pain-filled anguish, and the nurses had repeatedly tried to get her to slow her breath down and relax, I asked if she wanted me to coach her, and she said yes, please! Soon she was breathing more slowly and seemed to relax a bit, but it didn’t last. She couldn’t sustain it, as a pain would rip through and she would scream again.

Overwhelmed as she was, her social skills were long gone. She became whiny, demanding, accusatory, blaming every person who walked in the room for her experience. The staff was even-tempered with her but every conversation became increasingly stressed. “If you would only breathe deeper, try to relax. You’re just making it worse with your shallow panting…” every nurse and aide reminded her, to no avail.

When the doctor arrived, he read her the riot act about doing what was required for her own healing, that if she didn’t take charge she would die, and this was a hospital not a nursing home. Here the patient is required to make an effort. This was a message she clearly had not gotten from the kind nurses, even though that’s basically what they were saying.

After the surgeon left the room, I could hardly believe it: She was finally quiet. Barely a sniff! Did the pain suddenly evaporate? No, I don’t think so. I think for her the doctor was a patriarchal authority figure to whom the whimpering little girl in her responded. Somehow what he said clicked.

Throughout my stay I continued to send metta to nurses and other staff who were in charge of my care, as well as to any patients I saw in my stiff ambulations with my walker. And I found that this little loving kindness practice served as a supportive net for me while I lived in that noisy sterile environment.

I’ll never know if the practice affected the quality of my care or healing. I think the staff members are caring people who want the best for every patient. But I hope that caring for me was not a challenging practice, like the practice of sending metta to ‘difficult’ people that is crucial for metta mastery.

Between little Sam’s warm hearted almost festive presence and the black hole of sucking misery of my roommate, I’d seen the wide range of energies they deal with as a regular part of their working lives, and I hope that in our time together they felt my admiration, gratitude, respect and good wishes for their continued well being. I hope I gave them at least a little something, since they gave me so much.

Upon reflection, I have to wonder how the course of my own hospital stay might have been different without my metta practice. At the very least, sending lovingkindness to others as well as myself offered me an active role to play beyond the very few things that were required of me as patient. Spending my time this way left little time for worrying, judging or elaborating ad nauseum on any wishes for things to be different than they were. Sending metta was the absolute most I could do for her, for the nurses and for myself.

So I am very grateful for this practice! It absolutely contributed to my healing. And perhaps to the healing of others as well. We will never know. But I hope so!


-- With much metta and gratitude to the Kaiser San Rafael Medical Center orthopedic and ICU staff, as well as to my family, friends, students and sangha sibling, and most especially to my husband and primary post-op caregiver, Will Noble.