‘Who Am I?’

(The Buddha taught the Four Foundations of Mindfulness in a certain order for a reason. If you are reading this without having followed along previous posts in this section, please begin at the beginning with Introduction to Four Foundations of Mindfulness.)

We have come to a place in the Buddha’s teachings of the Four Foundations of Mindfulness that has been there all along, deeply embedded in everything we have looked at so far. And yet it can still come upon us as a surprise.

We ask the simple question, a child’s question really, but also the question that forms the foundation of many philosophical discussions throughout the ages: Who am I?

Pause for a moment, close your eyes, sense into physical sensation, and ask it again, as if for the first time. ‘Who am I?’ You might say it over and over like a mantra that goes deeper and deeper.

Where is this solid, dependable sense of self that we call ‘I’ and ‘me?’

The first thing that might suggest itself is this physical body, this material form. This is me. This is who I am, or at least it is part of who I am.

Is this true? What are the edges of the self defined by this body? Is it the skin that is so porous, letting in and out moisture all day long? That very skin sheds itself constantly. Is it still ‘me’ when it’s dust being vacuumed up off the floor and carpet?

What about the breath? Is it ‘me’ when it is in my lungs, but then no longer me when it has been exhaled?

The cells in the body are totally different than the ones that were here seven years ago. This seemingly permanent body is neither solid nor separate from the rest of life.

This is an experiential exercise for each of us to investigate for ourselves. The Buddha wasn't interested in philosophical discussions about it, only that each of us has the opportunity to explore it and make our own discoveries.

This exploration of 'body as self' is the first of five 'aggregates' that the Buddha asks us to experience in our own way and own time. We will explore the other four in subsequent weeks. But for now let’s look more closely as this sense of self as being the body.

The body is impermanent. We know this, having lived with this body this long, having seen it grow, having seen it ill, having seen it recover, having seen it scar, and having seen it age. We know this because other bodies we have loved have also changed, and some of them have disappeared. This impermanence we know so well tells the lie of the body being a solid substantial self. 

The other aspect that tells the lie is the fact that we have so little control over any of this. Yes, we can gain or lose weight, we can dye our hair, have plastic surgery, we can do things to sustain our body or abuse it, but for the most part, for the most identifiable part, we have no control. Tall, short, square, round, dark, light -- most characteristics of the body are simply as they are. If we accept our lack of control over them, we are less likely to suffer. Suffer? Yes, we suffer when we compare this body with others. We suffer when we get caught up in stories about who is to blame for things that are beyond our control. This is dukkha, the unsatisfactory nature of existence that is caused, in part, by the believe that this body is who we are. If we can let go of the mistaken belief, then we are simply grateful for this vessel of experience, however it is shaped, colored or outfitted. It is not who we are, but it is a means to experience this fleeting gift of life.

So this body is not the answer to the question 'Who am I?' As we explore the other four aggregates of feeling tones, cognition, volition and consciousness, we will have the opportunity to test whether any of these are who we are.

With dedicated meditation practice, we gain the naturally-arising insights that are called the three marks or characteristics. They are: annica (impermanence), dukkha (self-manufactured suffering) and anatta (no permanent separate self.) 

No one else can tell us 'this is so.' We have to discover it for ourselves at our own pace, in our own way. A teacher can spark a line of inquiry that leads to an insight, but the insight can't be taught. It has to be experienced. (The Zen koan practice exists for this very reason. We don't have koans in our tradition (Theravada, Vipassana or insight meditation,) but a teacher can seed a question that leads to a rich inner exploration.)

Anatta, no-self, may sound scary, but saying there is no self does not make us disappear. It is not a magic trick. It is a way to stop grabbing at straws of who we believe ourselves to be and clinging for dear life in the hopes that that straw belief will sustain us. It won’t. It is unreliable.

The need to name and claim a separate permanent identity just cuts us off from our deep sense of being connected with all that is, whether we choose scientific terms or see it as being an expression of the infinite that is God. In this state of deep understanding we can recognize that we have no identity we need to shore up. 

Thus liberated, we can recognize that we have nothing to prove, nothing to hide, nothing to fear. We can operate from pure joy, and offer up whatever we have to give with open generosity.

The Hindrances make us go deaf and blind

The Five Hindrances* cause a kind of blindness and deafness. How can that be? You can probably provide your own example. If there is some issue that sets you off when a topic comes up on the news, that’s a perfect time to notice how every time it comes up, there is that same circular pattern of anger, the same volatility of emotion, and a repetition of thoughts on the matter that blot out all else in that moment. Can you even hear the news or have you gone off into your own inner rant? In that moment, if someone were offering some brilliant solution to the very problem that upsets you, you would not hear it because the volume of your angry rant is ramped up so high. If anger is not something you experience often, you might notice it in someone else. (If you do, it is skillful just to notice, not to offer unasked-for instruction on the Hindrances!)

Greed too has a blinding/deafening quality. When desire or craving arises, we may have a difficult time tempering it. Only justifications to fulfill the craving are admitted into our thinking. Yes, another hindrance might chime -- self-judgment, shame or despair, perhaps -- but we are blind or deaf to the calm loving voice of compassionate reason.

I remember one time on my way to the refrigerator to fulfill a hunger that had nothing to do with my stomach, I was so consumed in my desire for ‘a little something’ that it was a shock when I heard another voice within me asking if this was really going to appease my desire or was it actually fueling it. Who was that?

I’d never heard that wise voice before in this context because when I am caught up in greed, I am deaf to its kind loving words. They don't suit my goal or the kindness doesn't feel deserved. But that one time, for whatever reason, I heard it. Having heard it once, there is a better chance I will hear it again at another moment when such wisdom would be useful in bringing me into the moment, aware of what I'm actually doing.

By noticing the hindrance, naming it as hindrance, and seeing the hindrance as simply an obstacle to clarity of mind, we unlock its hold on us. A calmer, more fully-informed way of being prevails.

We practice awareness to develop the ability to see and hear the wisdom that is always available to us. We practice compassion to be better able to stay present with whatever arises. Our compassionate eyes do not need to look away from what is difficult in the world and within our minds. We can hold it all in an open friendly embrace, neither grasping nor pushing away.

The hindrances of worry and restlessness also blind us. We only pay attention to what feeds the worry, however remote this information may be. The antsy quality of restlessness doesn't allow for the possibility that it might be okay, maybe even joyful, to simply be here now in this ordinary moment.

Sloth and torpor also cause deafness and blindness. We don’t want to pay attention to any sense within ourselves that calls us out to play, to breathe, to be active, awake, alive. We create what we hope is a safe couch-potato or bedridden refuge for ourselves, but in fact it is not a refuge at all. It is a dulling down, a deadening, an enervating escape. A true refuge is a place where rest refuels, energizes and balances us. As we develop awareness we can begin to see the difference between shutting down and refuge.

Doubt is blind and deaf as well. When we doubt, we punch holes in everything that is offered. (For example, if we are given a compliment, we discount or distrust the source.) We see only the holes, and not the whole of the fabric of being. We even embroider the holes and make them seem more real than the fabric itself. If wisdom were to arise and speak to us, we wouldn't trust it. And such is the nature of this quiet still voice that it would simply be quiet. It has no agenda, no goal, and all the time in the world since it is beyond time. It is simply there, always available, woven deeply in the fabric of being. But we have to be available for it as well, by sensing into the texture of the fabric of this present moment experience.

Compassion provides clarity.
When we notice one of the hindrances arising or being active within us, that noticing is skillful. It’s awareness! Yay!
But in the next moment the hindrance might draw us back into all kinds of self-abuse. Compassion at this moment makes all the difference in how we proceed. With compassion, we can stay present with seeing clearly what is happening in this moment.

Compassion is not indulgence but an infusion of honesty. It tells us, 'Hey, these hindrances are universal and a longstanding part of the human condition. The hindrances are not who you are. You are not uniquely flawed because a hindrance keeps arising, anymore than a swimmer is flawed because a wave in the ocean overcomes him or her at some point.'

So we use compassion and universal loving-kindness skillfully when we notice the presence of a hindrance. ‘Aha!’ and then, ‘How human an experience is this!’ With this two-fold noticing, we are able to stay present to witness the dissolving of the strength of the wave of hindrance that might otherwise drown us.

Rejoice! Recognizing the blindness and deafness of the Five Hindrances helps us to dissolve them. When we are present and the hindrances have fallen away, we are grateful. We are encouraged to notice and stay present with this awareness of their disappearance. Rejoice! Notice the joy! Notice the tranquility! Notice the happiness!

The Buddha likened this state of being (at least temporarily) hindrance-free to being free from debt, to being released from prison, to being liberated from slavery, to having safely crossed a dangerous desert, and to having recovered from an illness.

Recently my three-year-old granddaughter had a terrible bout of stomach flu. Such misery! The next day when we visited her, she told us, ‘All that tummy ache. All that poop!’ She was fully recovered, happily dancing about the house. The simple joy of normal life after she had been so knotted up in pain gave her a pronounced bounce in her step, a lilt in her voice, a ready smile, laughing at nothing, when usually she is quite serious about her play. She was rejoicing. Isn't it great to be alive and pain-free?

Back into the Fray
Of course things change moment to moment, and this sense of gratitude and delight we feel can easily turn into greed for more. ‘Why isn't it always like this?’ we might complain. Or the fear of losing it arises. A myriad of other thoughts can come along to drag us instantly back into one hindrance or another.

But to the degree we can stay present to see the arising of a hindrance, we can meet it with awareness and compassion. Then it dissolves and we can expand into a spacious delight where we can rest in mindfulness, concentration and absorption.

Naming and Claiming
If we notice a hindrance, we might be in the habit of saying, ‘Oh, I’m the type of person who has this hindrance’? This naming and claiming game is just a divisive diversion. In this moment when we recognize a hindrance, we are seeing clearly. We can be appreciative of this moment of clarity. And we can send loving-kindness to ourselves to create more spaciousness in our heart-mind to hold this new information in a way that will support expansive understanding instead of diving right back into a hindrance.

Metta (Loving-kindness)
We practice metta to remind us that it is available in any moment, to cope with whatever arises. If we discover we are being hard on ourselves, we use metta to gentle up our approach to the challenge at hand. If we are holding a grudge against someone, we can send them metta -- not because they ‘deserve’ it, since metta is not a reward, but because when we enter a state of sending metta, we better understand the unitive nature of being. We let go of the isolationist indoctrination of our culture that has had each of us in a tight little knot unable to sense our connection. We might say or think:

May I be well. May I be happy. May I be at ease. May I be at peace.
May you be well. May you be happy. May you be at ease. May you be at peace.
May all beings be well. May all beings be happy. May all beings be at ease. May all beings be at peace.

* The Buddha’s Five Hindrances are desire, aversion, restlessness/worry, sloth/torpor, and doubt.

How can what is difficult be the easy thing?

Anna Douglas,
co-founder of Spirit Rock Meditation Center
and my dear teacher

Pema Chodron says, ‘Move toward difficulty.’ My teacher Anna Douglas, tells me, ‘Do the easy thing.’ What’s a Buddhist student to do?

This was the basis of our discussion in class on Thursday. (We are pausing in our study of the Buddha's Five Hindrances to let the dharma lesson sink in and speak to us through our own experiences.) This discussion arose from a tradition we have in class of transitioning from meditation into the dharma talk by reading one excerpt from the Shambala classic The Pocket Pema Chodron.

This time we read #12 (We have already read through the 108 chapter book once and are on our second go-round because wisdom is always fresh, and we learn something different each time we hear it.) In this lesson, titled ‘Move toward difficulty,’ the title itself seemed strange to us, because it didn't sound like simply being present with what is. Why would we move toward difficulty any more than we would move toward ease and pleasure? Why wouldn't we just stay put, being present?

But in the body of the brief reading, Pema says that we are conditioned to find fault with our present experience. So perhaps a willingness to ‘move toward difficulty’ is simply countering our natural aversion to it, bringing us into the present and a willingness to be with what is difficult.

I am currently reading a book recommended to me by a friend whose taste in books I have found to be trustworthy and in step with my own. However, it was with trepidation that I opened A Pearl in the Storm, How I Found My Heart in the Middle of the Ocean by Tori Murden McClure, wherein the author took on the self-assigned project of rowing a 23-foot boat across the Atlantic Ocean. I am still reading it and am caught up in it in a way that surprises me. My taste generally goes towards cozy English cottage cups of tea and inter-generational sagas. Either that or the joyous rigors of the Satipatthana. But adventure and purposely putting oneself in great physical adversity? Never.

Tori Murden McClure

So here was a woman who truly was 'following the difficult!' And how do we reconcile it with Anna Douglas’ advice to me to do the easy thing? How can both of them be right?

The key is this: For the author, who rowed for thousands of miles in a solo expedition from the US toward Europe, this activity was 'the easy thing.' Not to discount the incredible hardships she endured, but she very clearly states that she would much rather be stuck in a storm in a solitary quest abreast the vast ocean than to walk into a room full of people and try to come up with chit chat. She was fully living in the moment, savoring her experience. How she treasured the sounds of the dolphins chirping, the whales that passed by, including a huge sperm whale, and the starry night sky unlike any she could have seen from land. Living on power bars, desalinating water to drink, rarely being truly dry or pain-free, and rowing from early in the morning to late in the evening was all part of the experience for her.

Each of us tends to follow our own preferences and tendencies, making use of our talents as best we are able. When we are honest and authentic in what we do, when we have nothing to prove, nothing to fear, nothing to hide and something to give, we follow what might look to others to be a very difficult path, but for us, because it stems from our natural bent, it is the easy way. And even when it is difficult, there is a joy in rising to this particular type of challenge.

How very different this is from the driven way that many people live. The ‘I’ll show them’ mentality indeed gets things 'accomplished' -- but at what cost? And what is the quality of the deed done? And when the desired goal is met, is the person even present to enjoy the achievement, the award, the accolades? Or is the mind reaching ever toward the future toward another goal, another opportunity to prove that we are worthy of being alive, breathing and eating?

One student said, “But what about the arts? Where would we be if artists didn’t strive and push themselves?’

This reminded me of the daughter of an old friend who has known since she was very small that ballet was her way in life, the most natural expression of her being, and all she ever wanted to do. I think we can all agree that the life of a ballerina looks to be about the most grueling of all the arts. Yet this young woman thrives, not on striving, but on growing and blooming into the ballerina that she is. She has danced with some of the largest ballet companies in the world and she is still in high school. Her natural aptitude and genuine passion for what she does makes this most difficult art the ‘easy’ thing for her. Even when it’s challenging, or maybe especially when it’s challenging.

I also remember when I was deep in a writing project while raising young children and I was working away at my IBM Selectric (how I loved that typewriter!) every morning for several hours. When friends would say, ‘You are so disciplined!’ I thought, ‘Ah so THIS is what discipline is: When you do something with passion, when you are in the flow of a doing that doesn’t feel like work at all.’ I had always thought discipline was something we imposed on ourselves. But here it revealed itself as something quite naturally arising.

Certainly my writing and teaching the dharma takes a great deal of time and a certain amount of effort, but it is time doing what I love, time I enjoy, time that feels authentic, true, natural, real and fun for me. It’s my kind of challenge.

Last night at a gathering of my dear art critique group, a friend told a story of a child who paints with great dedication. In complimenting her, my friend kept referring to ‘your work’ and the child asked, ‘Why do you call it work?’ Indeed!

So two Buddhist teachers say too seemingly opposite things and we are left to consider and  find the intersection of the two. ‘Move toward difficulty.’ ‘Do the easy thing.’

Wise Effort. Balance. Authenticity. Anchored in the present moment. All of these we experience when both these pieces of advice can be met at the same time.

We send loving kindness to the Five Hindrances and voila!

In our ongoing exploration of the Fourth Foundation of Mindfulness, we are lingering a bit at the Five Hindrances to give ourselves some time for it all to sink in. We need time to practice what we learn so that it is experiential rather than theoretical.

Whatever we are exploring, whatever we are doing, the two most important things we can remember are our paired intentions: To be present in this moment, anchored in physical sensation, and to be kind to ourselves and others, especially when we find that we or they have not been present at all.

So we bring this second intention to our exploration of the Five Hindrances. We send ourselves metta, universal loving kindness, as we practice noticing the presence or absence of a hindrance.

We send metta to whatever it was that had us so distracted up until this moment of awareness, and we send it out to all beings, without exception. This practice creates within us an intrinsic understanding of our deep connection with all of life. Our thinking mind can do the scientific research to explain that this oneness of all being is so, but metta practice brings it home to us in a much deeper and more profound way.

In any given moment, when we find ourselves distraught or lost, resetting our paired intentions to be present and kind is the skillful means to recognize what’s going on and to dissolve habituated patterns of suffering in our lives.

Pause and notice what’s going on with you right now. What is your current state of mind? See if you notice any of the Hindrances (desire, aversion, restlessness and worry, sloth and torpor, and doubt) in residence. If so, the recognition alone can do a great deal to dissolve a hindrance. But recognition alone can be pretty heartless, can fall quickly into patterns of judgment or discomfort with acknowledging a hindrance.

Enter metta!  We can greet the hindrance with universal kindness. This kindness is not an indulgence. It simply gives us the opportunity to be able to spend more time with the hindrance without having to fight it, avoid it, deny it, or claim it as a personality trait. With universal kindness we are able to simply be with it and recognize it for what it is.

Claim it as a personality trait? You may wonder who would want to claim any of these negative states. But in the chronic rush to get some sense of identity, we may claim even the most unattractive traits. We might call these hindrances ‘character defects,’ and own them, claiming the shame as well. We might say about ourselves, ‘I’m just lazy.’ or  ‘I’m a terrible worrywort.” Stop and think if there are some of these claims you have made, or continue to make. This level of noticing is very useful.

The Buddha asks us to look closer, to sit with any hindrance we discover. He asks us to see them for what they are, to meet the hindrance and know that it is not us.

It is not us. Phew! But does that mean we are not responsible for the words and actions that arise from our experience of one of these states? No, of course not. We learn how to skillfully navigate these challenging mental states by being mindful, which includes both awareness and kindness. We will explore Wise Speech and Wise Action further along, but the Buddha put this instruction of noticing hindrances first for a reason, so we will stay with it for now.

Metta dissolves the sense of isolation that keeps us so attached to the hindrance to shore up a sense of identity we can cling to. With metta, we sense our interconnection with all of life and don’t need to rely on what we thought were ‘personality traits’ to make us visible in the world. The hunger for visibility arises from a deeply ingrained fear of disappearing. But when we sense our interconnection in the infinite web, we can, in that moment, let go of our need to build up a separate identity.

In that mindful moment when we see a hindrance clearly and send metta to it and to ourselves, if we can stay present to notice what happens to the hindrance, then we teach ourselves the benefits of the practice. We don’t have to take anyone else’s word for it. We know for ourselves the effectiveness of mindfulness practice. The experiential learning of the practice is more valuable than all the teachings. The teachings are to inspire the practice and shine a light in the darkness when we are stumbling about. But the teachings without mindfulness practice are like a bouquet of cut flowers, pleasant at the time but not able to take root and grow. The practice and the teachings together are like a plant given all the right conditions to grow strong and produce fruit.

In meditation or any time during our day, when we recognize we have not been mindful, then suddenly we are being mindful in that moment. At that moment, if we can be kind, if we can send metta instead of castigating ourselves for having not been mindful, then we are able to be mindful in this moment as well. So metta plays a very important role in mindfulness training. It cuts off our tendency to see ourselves as uniquely unqualified to do this practice. With metta, we get that this is the natural way of things, and that we are as vital and acceptable a part of the fabric of life, knots and all, as anyone else.

Next week we will look at applying metta to each of the hindrances. Until then I hope you will take the time to practice noticing these mind states that arise, noticing the thoughts and emotions that arise when you notice, and add loving kindness to the mix, so that you can stay fully present with the experience.

You might be better able to notice these mind states arising in someone else. This is still useful, as long as it is done with loving kindness. If you find you are judging harshly, then you have a hindrance of your own you can notice! All good.

Awareness dissolves mental hindrances

Last week I introduced The Five Hindrances, the first of the dhammas that make up the Fourth Foundation of Mindfulness. All these numbers and lists might have you throwing up your hands at this point. It does seem a little daunting. But any time you think, ‘This is too much,’ just allow yourself to rest in awareness of whatever physical sensation is present in that moment.

Remember that all we really need is the two intentions with which we enter meditation: The intention to be present in this moment, anchored in physical sensation, and the intention to be compassionate with ourselves and others. In meditation and in our daily life, if we can reset these intentions whenever we are feeling lost or confused, we are good to go!

Then why learn anything else about the dharma? Each of us has to decide for ourselves whether in this moment we are ready and able to learn more of the Buddha’s teachings. If the cup is full, stop pouring in more tea! Our minds can only take in so much information. Then we need to spend time with what we have taken in, allow it to steep. 

Buddhism is primarily experiential. The dharma lessons point the way and provide tools for the experience to illuminate and awaken, but if we just study-study-study, then we are out of balance with the teachings. Our own sitting and walking meditations, our own ability to create spaciousness in our experience brings the dharma home where it can actually give meaning and end suffering. All else is restless mind, greedy mind, trying to know it all. Resting in ‘I don’t know!’ is one of the most delightful experiences of my life. I rejoice in it. I savor it. It’s delicious. Make room for that sense of being comfortable with not knowing and see for yourself if it releases a few endorphins.

If you have been following along and have developed a regular practice of meditation, then it may be interesting to explore more of the Buddha’s teachings that shed so much light on our experience. One of my students mentioned this week that the Five Hindrances might be a more accessible door to the dharma for some people.

What are the Five Hindrances?
The Five Hindrances are mind states that act as obstacles to clarity of mind. They are desire/craving, aversion, restlessness and worry, sloth and torpor, and doubt. Do any of these sound familiar? Most of us experience all of them at one time or another, sometimes in combination or quick succession. In class, one student felt sloth was too pejorative a term. Another clarified the distinction between sloth and torpor -- sloth a sense of physical sluggishness and torpor more a fogginess of the brain. This sounded right to me. It's important to remember that all of these terms are the closest English approximation to the original Pali language terms. Can we leave room in our understanding for the translations to not be completely satisfactory?

How to be in skillful relationship with the Hindrances
It is skillful to acknowledge the Hindrances that are currently present in our experience. That recognition is all that is required. If we actively try to change them or push them away, we are just getting caught up in aversion. Compassionate awareness brings everything into balance. If we can stay present with the hindrance that we notice, it can teach us something valuable. Each hindrance has the capacity to be a great gift, if we recognize it, can stay present with it and learn its nature. This is the path of awakening! So don’t turn away.

One student said she really liked the word ‘hindrance’ -- so much easier to deal with than ‘character flaw,’ the term she was raised with. Other students nodded their heads.

Yes! We can much more easily spend time noting a ‘hindrance’ than dwelling on a ‘character flaw’ that takes us right into shame or guilt. The statement, ‘Oh, I’m so lazy,’ takes us to a dead end place where we either suffer quietly with our ‘defect’ or noisily try to bust out, rebelling at the label.

How much wiser is the statement, ‘Ah, sloth, I know you.’ This simple recognition of a transitory state passing through our experience has the ability to dissolve it on the spot. We don’t claim it, cling to it, or react to it. We sit with it, see it for what it is, and the clarity of recognition brings us into the present moment.

Noting what causes hindrances to arise
The Buddha’s teachings also encourage us to notice what leads us to activate these hindrances, and then to mindfully avoid those situations. For example, if you crave alcohol, don’t hang out in a bar. If you crave pastries, don’t go inside the bakery. Years ago when I attended Weight Watchers meetings, I remember they called the foods we just couldn’t resist ‘red light foods.’ The answer to these irresistible temptations was to not have them in the kitchen, to not tempt ourselves with what was just too challenging. This works to a point, especially when we are feeling most vulnerable.

With each of the hindrances we can observe in our own lives the point at which they are activated. It might not be a place, person or object that sets it off. It might simply be a habituated pattern of thought that we get caught in again and again. We just go there, almost as a default position. Noticing the pattern is skillful. Then we can investigate the nature of the pattern. We can see which mind state it leads to. We might see where it comes from -- a parent, a teacher, an old love interest, a playmate or schoolyard bully.

The radiant light of awareness, developed through these mindfulness practices, recognizes that thoughts, emotions, mind states, etc. are not who we are. We suffer in our attachment to them as identity, and are liberated from suffering when we simply enjoy and feel gratitude for the opportunity to experience all of this finite fleeting earth experience in whatever form it takes.

Seeing what activates the hindrances helps us to develop the ability to stay present with a clear mind. This ability at first may seem so brief that we have a hard time seeing how it even happens. I remember thinking that it was like alighting on the head of a pin and then almost instantly falling off. When I understood that this was natural, like the challenge to find balance when learning to walk or ride a bike, I was less frustrated and thus more able to be present with the experience. With practice that brief alighting becomes more constant, a widening stable foundation where we place our awareness.

While we are developing our practice it is especially important to be with people who support us in our practice and to avoid spending too much time with those who lure us into behaviors that lead to mindlessness or actively try to throw us off this course. This is being kind and skillful.

As our practice deepens and our sense of being in the present grows, we may be sufficiently grounded in our practice to recognize that not only can we resist temptations that had previously drawn us, but we have a sense of presence that helps others become more grounded as well. This is not something we aim for, lest our goal-setting topples our equanimity. But we can recognize when it happens, and then be less self-protective and more engaged in the world beyond sangha in a way that creates a sense of moment.

A good test is to see if you are using the word ‘should’ as in ‘I should be able to sit in a bar and drink iced tea even though I crave liquor.’ The word ‘should’ is just a stick we beat ourselves up with. Put it down and pick up compassion and common sense instead!

Noting when the Hindrances are absent
If we find we are in a state of awareness, the Buddha encourages us to notice how that feels and to enjoy the spacious ease of not being caught up in the thirst of sensual desire, the turbulence of aversion, the sluggishness of torpor, the agitation of restlessness and worry, or the muddiness of doubt. To rest in clarity is peaceful and pleasurable, and this pleasure is finer than any we had imagined when pursuing a goal driven by sensual desire. Whatever happiness we were striving to achieve is nothing compared to this. Just this. Bliss.