One of our sangha members arrived at class this week saying that she had just spent the morning stripping. I supplied a line of ‘ta da da da TUM, chicka boom, chicka boom’ strip tease music, and she laughed, then amended her sentence to include that she had been stripping the altar at her church in preparation for Good Friday.
After meditation I read from our next-up weekly Pocket Pema Chodron, Lesson #86 titled ‘A Process of Surrendering,’ in which she says, ‘The journey to enlightenment involves shedding, not collecting...like taking off layer after layer of clothes until we are completely naked with nothing to hide.’ Wow, with two prompts about disrobing, how could we not make this the focus of our discussion?
The word ‘surrender’ has such a negative connotation. Only losers surrender in battle after all, and no one wants to be a loser. But there are some losses that benefit us and the act of surrender in the context of our own spiritual exploration has great value. Let’s be clear that we are not surrendering to another person, letting their will dictate our behavior. What we surrender is the tight fear that holds us back from being authentic in our lives, the layers that keep our Buddha Nature hidden.
The mention of disrobing reminded me of my piece, The Dance of the Seven Veils -- a process of becoming aware of how we hide behind layers of belief about who we are. We often hold ourselves to be the labels we have been given and have taken on. We let these layers define us and limit us. It is perceiving these layers of identity that happens with insight meditation practice. Once perceived, we can see beyond the layers. We shift our understanding of who we are. So it is a strip, but it isn’t a tease. Because underneath the layers we discover and allow to be known the self that is beyond label, beyond fear, beyond the need to prove anything to anyone.
When we sit in meditation our minds have the capacity to become spacious so that whatever arises is easier to see. We can see the tight knots of fear-based patterns, our defenses that we think protect us but in fact just keep us from sensing our deep connection with all of life. When we begin seeing, then the patterns begin to dissolve and we are able to let go of them. It’s important that we understand that this disrobing process, this surrender, is a letting go, not a pushing or tearing away. These patterns are to be held gently, compassionately up to the light of awareness. The light itself does the dissolving. To rip them to bits and throw them away is just another reactive destructive pattern that creates more dense layers that obscure rather than release.
So our surrender is an ongoing process. We surrender our spiritual striving, our ambition to become perfect beings. We are not trying to trade in one set of layers or labels for another that might be seen as nicer, holier, better. We surrender our striving when we become aware of it, noting it to be just another constricting fear. What are we afraid of? We fear disappearing if we disrobe from our layers. We fear that we are not an integral part of all that is, not an expression of the oneness of being.
Metta practice is very helpful for revealing our deep unbreakable connection to all that is. We send metta (loving kindness) to ourselves and to all beings. Developing awareness of the quality of universal kindness and compassion allows us to sense that we are also held by it, that we are loved, have always been loved, will always be loved. No matter what.
With a balance of insight and metta, we can begin to surrender the self-hatred that is inherent in so many of our patterns, that then ricochets against others as well.
Our Buddha nature is not on some distant mountain top but sitting quietly within us, waiting patiently to be heard.
Gratitude for Silence
Following up on my recent review of The Dhamma Brothers, last night I saw the movie based on Elizabeth Gilbert’s memoir Eat, Pray, Love. I imagine most people have read the book or seen the movie or both, so I won’t bother commenting on anything other than how the section in the Indian ashram reminded me how glad I am that I go on SILENT retreats!
Although retreatants at the ashram could take a vow of silence and would wear a badge saying “I am in silence,’ that vow didn’t look to be the norm. When Elizabeth tried to sit quietly she was constantly accosted by a soon-to-be friend Richard, a gruff American who took to calling her ‘Groceries’ because of the amount of food on her plate. This labeling didn’t feel the least bit endearing to me, nor to her, and she reacted defensively to his running commentary on her shortcomings and misunderstandings. Yes, he did soften up, show his own vulnerability and became a friend, but I don’t understand how he felt he had the right to invade her quiet moments at every turn with his brutal instruction.
So this is a little note of gratitude to Spirit Rock and all meditation centers where silence on retreats is the norm rather than an individual choice. When we are freed of the need to interact, either through words, gestures or eye contact, with other people, then our spiritual journey is authentically our own. We have instruction from teachers, guidance at appointed times or whenever we request it, but our co-retreatants, our sangha sibling, honor our practice by giving us space and having their own. In this way, we practice together, inspiring through our dedication to a time-honored tradition.
After our disrobing discussion in class earlier in the day, watching this movie and seeing Richard’s barrage of intrusions into Elizabeth’s experience felt like watching psychic attacks, ripping off her layers instead of honoring her process. It had a violence to it and was totally inappropriate.
In class we had just been talking about our unique spiritual paths, and how none of us can walk another’s path. We can perhaps suggest taking along water, a compass, a good pair of shoes, etc. We could at rough moments offer a cup of tea and a listening ear. This is the role of sangha. But the spiritual trail we choose and the way we hike it is our own journey.
We took turns talking about our own journeys, what nurtures our spiritual sense of well-being and what inspires us. You might take a few minutes now to check in with your own journey. Whatever it is, or isn’t, it is yours and yours alone. It is only with respect that we can support each other, giving room to grow in our own way at our own pace, discovering what we need to know when we need to know it, and not a minute sooner!
In that spirit, may this blog be a support in your exploration. Feel free to peruse the list on the right for topics that speak to you at any given time.
I honor your journey.
Saturday, April 7, 2012
Sunday, April 1, 2012
The Dhamma Brothers
I recently saw the documentary The Dhamma Brothers. I had been following the news story over the past years of Vipassana retreats being held in Alabama prisons, so I was very interested in seeing this film about it, now available to rent. (If the word Dhamma is not familiar to you: Dhamma is the Pali word interchangeable with the Sanscrit word Dharma. Both mean the Buddha’s teachings, the truth.)
Thoughts that came up for me while watching:
If prisoners with violent pasts and challenges that are difficult for most of us to imagine find such value in the practice, then certainly we can as well. As we practice we see the tight knots of fear within our thoughts and emotions. These men who went on a ten day retreat within prison walls began to see the tight knotted patterns of their thoughts and emotions that had made their past actions seem justifiable. The practice of silent meditation let them begin to see things more clearly as they let down their defenses that had kept them from being able to take responsibility.
If the practice can make such a difference in the lives of those in our society who are prone to inflict the most violence, (and to hear them describe the events that led to their incarceration is terrifying), then meditative practice -- learning how to be in the present moment, aware of what arises and developing compassion for ourselves and all beings, with a special focus on those we may have harmed, is the key to creating a peaceful society.
For those who feel prisoners don’t ‘deserve’ to meditate, there is a misunderstanding of thinking meditation is some kind of easy escape, a holiday, a spacing out. It's true that some people try to use it that way, but the Vipassana meditation being taught on this retreat was anything but an escape. On the contrary, insight meditation is a willingness to come face to face with our mindless destructive patterns that can leave devastation in their wake. The interviewed retreatants came to, maybe for the first time, a real understanding of the pain they had caused others.
So much of my own Vipassana silent retreat experience has been spent in communing with nature because I attend retreats at Spirit Rock Meditation Center, nestled in the oak-studded hills of Northern California. In between periods of sitting practice, we do walking practice often outside in nature. Rest periods and breaks can be spent outdoors, and the buildings are spaced at a distance apart so that even going to and fro takes one out into nature. After the last sit of the evening, walking slowly back to the dormitory, looking up into the deep sky or walking through the mist, is such a powerful gift. How different it must be to spend a retreat entirely in a locked gymnasium divided into eating, sleeping and practice spaces by blue tarps strung on rope.
Yet within the confines of that gym was a true retreat from a world inside the prison where one must always be on guard. Letting go of defenses within the retreat, the practitioners truly entered an interior spaciousness, their own true nature.
Where we sit is not anywhere near so important as the sitting itself. We can get caught up in needing the perfect setting, and postpone or deny ourselves our practice. I once taught meditation in a gym -- well, actually in a fitness club. The small room given me to teach in was not at all sound proof, and the noise of the exercise equipment in use on the floor above, and the occasional booming of music when a receptionist up front forgot there was meditation going on, gave an unusual quality to the experience. I told my students, “If you can meditate here you can meditate anywhere.” That stint added an awareness of how important it is not to set ourselves up to believe that conditions have to be just right for meditation.
Meditation can happen anywhere. I call it a portable practice and encourage meditators not to rely on external conditions -- tapes, altars, a particular set up, etc. To be an altar unto ourselves, to have a practice that does not rely on sitting in a position that we could not do in an airport waiting area. The bare bones of relying on the sitz bones and erect spine to support us, to let our muscles relax, to be balanced and aligned, can be accomplished anywhere by a trained meditator. Seeing how these prisoners were able to meditate was proof that all we need is the skill to practice.
The dedication with which the incarcerated meditators continued to practice together after their ten day retreat, the way each continued their personal practice, even when denied the right to do so, is truly inspiring. When we feel as if we don’t have the time or conditions aren’t right, it is quite useful to remember these men and the distractions and discouragements to practice that they face, yet they persist, because it means so much and makes such a difference.
The men were of various faiths and the meditation was not taught as a religion. Because the program was challenged on the grounds of proselytizing a particular faith, it is important for all of us to remember that meditation is a practice that enhances being present, being able to listen, being patient, being compassionate and getting to know the inner workings of our minds and in what ways our patterns of reactivity and resistance that have caused us and others such suffering can be softened and dissipated. In this way meditators are often more able to find their own religion strengthened, because they are more present with it. It’s such an important thing for the religious to understand and let go of the idea of meditation being a threat to belief.
The Dhamma Brothers is an incredibly inspiring story for anyone who meditates or would like to, as well as for anyone who thought there is no way to find internal peace if one’s life isn’t perfect. It is also extremely important viewing for anyone who believes that the solution to crime is to lock people up and throw away the key. Lock them up if they have shown themselves to be harmful to others, but don’t give up on them. Provide training, insight and compassion, and those who have the willingness to undertake the challenge, have the capacity to transform dramatically.
Given this possibility, how can we not give them that opportunity? It is not an indulgence, but an intelligent response to a dense difficult problem. Since it cannot be forced, but must be undertaken willingly, obviously not all will benefit. But even those who do not undertake it benefit from an environment where there is the possibility of transformation, and where there is an energy of peacefulness growing, making it safe to breathe.
May the meditators in this film know that when we say, “May all beings be well, may all beings be happy, may all beings be at ease, may all beings be at peace,” as we do at the end of every class, that they are very much included in our well wishing. As are the filmmakers, guards, teachers, fellow prisoners who did not participate, all of their families, and the people who support and promote this program, and yes, including those who would shut it down. May their hearts be opened.
Thoughts that came up for me while watching:
If prisoners with violent pasts and challenges that are difficult for most of us to imagine find such value in the practice, then certainly we can as well. As we practice we see the tight knots of fear within our thoughts and emotions. These men who went on a ten day retreat within prison walls began to see the tight knotted patterns of their thoughts and emotions that had made their past actions seem justifiable. The practice of silent meditation let them begin to see things more clearly as they let down their defenses that had kept them from being able to take responsibility.
If the practice can make such a difference in the lives of those in our society who are prone to inflict the most violence, (and to hear them describe the events that led to their incarceration is terrifying), then meditative practice -- learning how to be in the present moment, aware of what arises and developing compassion for ourselves and all beings, with a special focus on those we may have harmed, is the key to creating a peaceful society.
For those who feel prisoners don’t ‘deserve’ to meditate, there is a misunderstanding of thinking meditation is some kind of easy escape, a holiday, a spacing out. It's true that some people try to use it that way, but the Vipassana meditation being taught on this retreat was anything but an escape. On the contrary, insight meditation is a willingness to come face to face with our mindless destructive patterns that can leave devastation in their wake. The interviewed retreatants came to, maybe for the first time, a real understanding of the pain they had caused others.
So much of my own Vipassana silent retreat experience has been spent in communing with nature because I attend retreats at Spirit Rock Meditation Center, nestled in the oak-studded hills of Northern California. In between periods of sitting practice, we do walking practice often outside in nature. Rest periods and breaks can be spent outdoors, and the buildings are spaced at a distance apart so that even going to and fro takes one out into nature. After the last sit of the evening, walking slowly back to the dormitory, looking up into the deep sky or walking through the mist, is such a powerful gift. How different it must be to spend a retreat entirely in a locked gymnasium divided into eating, sleeping and practice spaces by blue tarps strung on rope.
Yet within the confines of that gym was a true retreat from a world inside the prison where one must always be on guard. Letting go of defenses within the retreat, the practitioners truly entered an interior spaciousness, their own true nature.
Where we sit is not anywhere near so important as the sitting itself. We can get caught up in needing the perfect setting, and postpone or deny ourselves our practice. I once taught meditation in a gym -- well, actually in a fitness club. The small room given me to teach in was not at all sound proof, and the noise of the exercise equipment in use on the floor above, and the occasional booming of music when a receptionist up front forgot there was meditation going on, gave an unusual quality to the experience. I told my students, “If you can meditate here you can meditate anywhere.” That stint added an awareness of how important it is not to set ourselves up to believe that conditions have to be just right for meditation.
Meditation can happen anywhere. I call it a portable practice and encourage meditators not to rely on external conditions -- tapes, altars, a particular set up, etc. To be an altar unto ourselves, to have a practice that does not rely on sitting in a position that we could not do in an airport waiting area. The bare bones of relying on the sitz bones and erect spine to support us, to let our muscles relax, to be balanced and aligned, can be accomplished anywhere by a trained meditator. Seeing how these prisoners were able to meditate was proof that all we need is the skill to practice.
The dedication with which the incarcerated meditators continued to practice together after their ten day retreat, the way each continued their personal practice, even when denied the right to do so, is truly inspiring. When we feel as if we don’t have the time or conditions aren’t right, it is quite useful to remember these men and the distractions and discouragements to practice that they face, yet they persist, because it means so much and makes such a difference.
The men were of various faiths and the meditation was not taught as a religion. Because the program was challenged on the grounds of proselytizing a particular faith, it is important for all of us to remember that meditation is a practice that enhances being present, being able to listen, being patient, being compassionate and getting to know the inner workings of our minds and in what ways our patterns of reactivity and resistance that have caused us and others such suffering can be softened and dissipated. In this way meditators are often more able to find their own religion strengthened, because they are more present with it. It’s such an important thing for the religious to understand and let go of the idea of meditation being a threat to belief.
The Dhamma Brothers is an incredibly inspiring story for anyone who meditates or would like to, as well as for anyone who thought there is no way to find internal peace if one’s life isn’t perfect. It is also extremely important viewing for anyone who believes that the solution to crime is to lock people up and throw away the key. Lock them up if they have shown themselves to be harmful to others, but don’t give up on them. Provide training, insight and compassion, and those who have the willingness to undertake the challenge, have the capacity to transform dramatically.
Given this possibility, how can we not give them that opportunity? It is not an indulgence, but an intelligent response to a dense difficult problem. Since it cannot be forced, but must be undertaken willingly, obviously not all will benefit. But even those who do not undertake it benefit from an environment where there is the possibility of transformation, and where there is an energy of peacefulness growing, making it safe to breathe.
May the meditators in this film know that when we say, “May all beings be well, may all beings be happy, may all beings be at ease, may all beings be at peace,” as we do at the end of every class, that they are very much included in our well wishing. As are the filmmakers, guards, teachers, fellow prisoners who did not participate, all of their families, and the people who support and promote this program, and yes, including those who would shut it down. May their hearts be opened.
Saturday, March 24, 2012
'Go to the Places That Scare You'
At the beginning of each dharma talk, after our meditation (so we are all primed to receive insight and wisdom,) I have been reading a page from The Pocket Pema Chodron, a diminutive and dear collection of the author’s teachings, usually one to three paragraphs long. This book was a present from one of my students and has become a lovely tradition for our class. We never know what it will offer, but it always feels like a gift.
This week was Teaching #85 ‘Go to the places that scare you.’ We don’t often discuss at any length what we have read, because the author is so succinct and spot on, what more needs to be said? But this time it felt like we could just hang out with that thought for awhile, so we talked about what it is to go to the places that scare us. Pema Chodron has a whole book on this topic, so it’s not surprising that we found we could spend time with the idea. It led to a very rich sharing with a number of personal insights by students. See what it brings up for you when you go to the interior places that scare you, the places you usually avoid.
In our discussion we were able to experiment with using the techniques we discussed last week: Sharing without getting involved in 'the story.' We could see how this way of sharing was very powerful and approachable. Together we could look at what was arising use skillful means to sit with it and allow it to transform.
What seemed to want to be shared after that was this dharma talk about noticing strong emotions: http://stefnoble.blogspot.com/2011/01/noticing-enzyme-action-for-emotion.html
This week was Teaching #85 ‘Go to the places that scare you.’ We don’t often discuss at any length what we have read, because the author is so succinct and spot on, what more needs to be said? But this time it felt like we could just hang out with that thought for awhile, so we talked about what it is to go to the places that scare us. Pema Chodron has a whole book on this topic, so it’s not surprising that we found we could spend time with the idea. It led to a very rich sharing with a number of personal insights by students. See what it brings up for you when you go to the interior places that scare you, the places you usually avoid.
In our discussion we were able to experiment with using the techniques we discussed last week: Sharing without getting involved in 'the story.' We could see how this way of sharing was very powerful and approachable. Together we could look at what was arising use skillful means to sit with it and allow it to transform.
What seemed to want to be shared after that was this dharma talk about noticing strong emotions: http://stefnoble.blogspot.com/2011/01/noticing-enzyme-action-for-emotion.html
Sunday, March 18, 2012
Opening Our Sangha
This week, the students present had never heard this dharma talk: http://stefnoble.blogspot.com/2009/08/freedom-from-believing-we-are-our_05.html
so I shared it with them and we discussed that moment when we have a choice to stay free from getting caught up in a thought or grab at its seemingly attractive lure.
We also followed up on the nature of sangha. One of the challenges of our class is that we meet in a private home and therefore operate by word of mouth rather than being able to list the meeting in the local paper. This makes the sangha seem more private than most. The Buddha taught outside where anyone could join in, so the true nature of sangha is very open. We are exploring the possibility of finding a public meeting place that still has the quiet private quality of meeting in a home. If you have any suggestions for a free or low-cost meeting place in Central Marin County, CA, please let me know.
And of course those of you reading this who live in the area, know that you are welcome. Contact me if you would like to join us Thursday mornings at 10 AM. The value of attending a class rather than reading a post is beyond measure. Our top priority in class is learning to meditate or refine our meditation experience. Each week as I lead the meditation, I am introducing new aspects to the mix, so that students are really learning how to sense in to their experience of being present, how to notice and release tension that arises, and how to hold whatever arises with ease and spaciousness. This experiential aspect of the class cannot be shared in the blog, and neither can the benefits of sangha. So if you are in the area and are able to come, please do!
so I shared it with them and we discussed that moment when we have a choice to stay free from getting caught up in a thought or grab at its seemingly attractive lure.
We also followed up on the nature of sangha. One of the challenges of our class is that we meet in a private home and therefore operate by word of mouth rather than being able to list the meeting in the local paper. This makes the sangha seem more private than most. The Buddha taught outside where anyone could join in, so the true nature of sangha is very open. We are exploring the possibility of finding a public meeting place that still has the quiet private quality of meeting in a home. If you have any suggestions for a free or low-cost meeting place in Central Marin County, CA, please let me know.
And of course those of you reading this who live in the area, know that you are welcome. Contact me if you would like to join us Thursday mornings at 10 AM. The value of attending a class rather than reading a post is beyond measure. Our top priority in class is learning to meditate or refine our meditation experience. Each week as I lead the meditation, I am introducing new aspects to the mix, so that students are really learning how to sense in to their experience of being present, how to notice and release tension that arises, and how to hold whatever arises with ease and spaciousness. This experiential aspect of the class cannot be shared in the blog, and neither can the benefits of sangha. So if you are in the area and are able to come, please do!
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
What Makes an Effective Sangha Discussion?
Last week we talked about the importance of sangha, our community of meditation practitioners, for keeping us on track with our own practice. But a sangha can support us in other ways as well. When we are going through something that is challenging, a sangha can provide insight and metta (loving kindness.)
While it is the dharma teacher’s role to set the tone for a sangha discussion, if there is one, participants benefit by knowing how to contribute in a meaningful way.
A sangha discussion is not a typical support group where members share details of a personal situation. And we are not offering up problems for committee solution. Responding directly to a sangha member’s sharing with direct suggestions or recommendations is best left for after the meeting, if offered at all.
For the most part, a sangha discussion is about staying present with the energy in the circle, listening with compassion, and noticing the thoughts, emotions and physical sensations that arise when a challenging situation is going on.
In general terms, a sangha member may share the nature of his or her experience -- a loss, a challenge in a relationship, physical pain or disability, etc. -- but is encouraged to stay present with the residual effects of the experience in this moment: How it feels right now, without needing to fill in all the juicy details of their story. This is not paving over or avoiding anything, but really sensing in to the experience in a way that may feel very different from our ordinary patterns of reacting to situations, emotions and thoughts. The personal becomes universal, so that regardless of the situation, the causes and conditions, sangha members can recognize the feeling described.
You may hear dharma teachers instructing students to not ‘get caught up in the story.’ This word ‘story’ can be misunderstood, as if the teacher is saying what is being shared is not true. The teller may bristle because he or she sees it as telling the honest truth of the situation, and that the details, or ‘facts’ are important. We are brought up to believe that facts are the most important aspect of any situation.
But, in fact ;-), for the purpose of exploring dharma (truth/Buddhist teachings) the details of any situation take the teller and the listeners into a very shallow, reactive place, from which they cannot learn or respond usefully. For example, if the listeners hear ‘mother-in-law,’ it is quite natural for the word to evoke a personal set of experiences that activate emotions and thoughts in them. This becomes a short hand for common human experience and though they can in some instances be useful, these kinds of details can short circuit the possibility of real connection and understanding by taking us away from the direct experience.
Deep insight and connection come from pausing to notice the physical sensations that arise when a concern comes to mind, so the value of the sharing is much greater when a sangha member compassionately explores what is present in their experience of this moment, not by relating all the details of what happened two days, weeks or years ago to the group.
The teacher might prompt, ‘Where do you feel it in your body when you think of this situation?’ or encourage the student to notice the emotion that is present and find where in the body that emotion is felt. This is something we can do on our own as well, whether in a sangha discussion or not. Anchoring into sensation we bring ourselves fully into the present moment, the only place where we have power to access what is really going on, the only place where we can take action, if any action is needed.
This skillful sharing of current experience -- which includes noting a memory or future thought passing through with all its emotional content -- inspires the group members to stay present in their own experience as well. It grounds the sharing in a deep space of compassion, and it makes it possible for all to benefit. The sharer feels supported and safe to explore the experience of sitting with thoughts and emotions that are uncomfortable.
Compare this to how we feel when we have ‘spilled our guts’ out to a group. We may feel we have been gossiping, because it’s rare that our stories don’t include other people, people that we care about deeply, but whom we have represented to this group only by their particular actions in this case. The unfairness of this shallow representation can make us feel badly, compounding our already complex set of emotions rather than freeing us from them. So the sharer may feel worse for the sharing.
And the listener? How useful are other people’s stories? Sometimes they make us feel better about our own situation, and we are thankful that is not happening to us. This puts us into comparing mind. Some fearful part of ourselves wants to differentiate ourselves from the teller, assuring ourselves that that would never happen to us, or we think for us it would be different in some way for some reason. Just as likely, the hearing of a story puts us back in time, jerking us out of the present moment, to relive a similar experience. Or it puts us in fear of the future, knowing that it is very likely that we will at sometime be in that same situation and we dread it.
Please remember that we are not insulating ourselves from other people’s problems. We have family and friends whom we know well, and with whom we share an intimacy that is quite different from a practicing sangha. A sangha is not built on the intimate sharing of stories or a history together. A sangha can be a gathering of people we barely know, or a mix of new and old members and of experienced and beginner practitioners. While friendships can certainly develop within the sangha, the sangha itself cannot be dependent on these friendships or it becomes stale and loses its purpose. A closed or exclusive sangha has lost its way.
The purpose of the sangha is at all times to inspire skillful practice for staying present, and for fostering kindness, compassion, connection, balance and ease.
But wait a minute, many dharma teachers, including myself, do share personal stories. The Buddha told many stories. Stories are important! Yes, a story that illustrates a point of dharma is valuable. A teacher who shares an experience has chosen that experience for that very reason. Hopefully the story will be told in a way that inspires rather than sets up an emotional chain reaction that takes everyone out of the moment.
Of course, dharma teachers are human and may miss the mark with a story, but inspiration is the intent. Experienced dharma students and meditation practitioners may contribute in this way as well, making for a rich discussion that deepens dharma understanding.
Notice when a discussion is over if you feel inspired, deepened, more spacious, enlightened, or if you feel dragged through the muck! This would be a clue that the dharma teacher is not giving sufficient instruction for sharing, or is treating a dharma circle like a therapy group. (Often dharma teachers are trained therapists as well, but they usually understand the distinction between the two roles.)
Of course, not all sanghas gatherings have discussion periods. Many are focused on a teacher giving a formal talk with time afterwards for questions to clarify understanding of the talk. The larger the sangha, the more likely this is to be the case. When you join a class, it is important to notice how the class is set up. If a teacher wants to create a discussion group, he or she will invite comments and sharing. If no invitation is forthcoming, a student can assume that silence is kindly requested so that the teacher may follow his or her train of thought of an often carefully planned dharma talk. Many times the question the student may have will be answered further along in the talk, so it is simply a matter of being patient. If the question is not answered, then when the teacher is finished, questions may be invited. If not, the question can be posed one on one after the class ends.
When there is a discussion circle, participants can all contribute to the conversation by really listening to each other, staying open to the nature of the topic being discussed, and by being present and noting what arises in their experience of this moment. We may notice our own striving to be heard, to be seen in a favorable light. It’s interesting to notice the fear that prompts this need -- a fear of disappearing, of not being valued. This is a shared human fear. Being compassionate with ourselves when we recognize it allows us to appreciate simply sitting in sangha in silence, until what we have to share seems to be called forth by the weaving of the dharma we are learning together. It enables us also to have great compassion for those in the sangha who, spawned by that same fear, may talk more than seems skillful. Wise Speech is one of the most challenging aspects of the Eightfold Path. That’s why being on retreat in blissful silence can feel so restful!
When we are participating in a sangha discussion, may we stay present, sensing in to physical sensation at all times. May we recognize the past and the future as wisps of thought and waves of emotion arising in this moment. May we share this sense of presence with our sangha, for the benefit of all beings.
While it is the dharma teacher’s role to set the tone for a sangha discussion, if there is one, participants benefit by knowing how to contribute in a meaningful way.
A sangha discussion is not a typical support group where members share details of a personal situation. And we are not offering up problems for committee solution. Responding directly to a sangha member’s sharing with direct suggestions or recommendations is best left for after the meeting, if offered at all.
For the most part, a sangha discussion is about staying present with the energy in the circle, listening with compassion, and noticing the thoughts, emotions and physical sensations that arise when a challenging situation is going on.
In general terms, a sangha member may share the nature of his or her experience -- a loss, a challenge in a relationship, physical pain or disability, etc. -- but is encouraged to stay present with the residual effects of the experience in this moment: How it feels right now, without needing to fill in all the juicy details of their story. This is not paving over or avoiding anything, but really sensing in to the experience in a way that may feel very different from our ordinary patterns of reacting to situations, emotions and thoughts. The personal becomes universal, so that regardless of the situation, the causes and conditions, sangha members can recognize the feeling described.
You may hear dharma teachers instructing students to not ‘get caught up in the story.’ This word ‘story’ can be misunderstood, as if the teacher is saying what is being shared is not true. The teller may bristle because he or she sees it as telling the honest truth of the situation, and that the details, or ‘facts’ are important. We are brought up to believe that facts are the most important aspect of any situation.
But, in fact ;-), for the purpose of exploring dharma (truth/Buddhist teachings) the details of any situation take the teller and the listeners into a very shallow, reactive place, from which they cannot learn or respond usefully. For example, if the listeners hear ‘mother-in-law,’ it is quite natural for the word to evoke a personal set of experiences that activate emotions and thoughts in them. This becomes a short hand for common human experience and though they can in some instances be useful, these kinds of details can short circuit the possibility of real connection and understanding by taking us away from the direct experience.
Deep insight and connection come from pausing to notice the physical sensations that arise when a concern comes to mind, so the value of the sharing is much greater when a sangha member compassionately explores what is present in their experience of this moment, not by relating all the details of what happened two days, weeks or years ago to the group.
The teacher might prompt, ‘Where do you feel it in your body when you think of this situation?’ or encourage the student to notice the emotion that is present and find where in the body that emotion is felt. This is something we can do on our own as well, whether in a sangha discussion or not. Anchoring into sensation we bring ourselves fully into the present moment, the only place where we have power to access what is really going on, the only place where we can take action, if any action is needed.
This skillful sharing of current experience -- which includes noting a memory or future thought passing through with all its emotional content -- inspires the group members to stay present in their own experience as well. It grounds the sharing in a deep space of compassion, and it makes it possible for all to benefit. The sharer feels supported and safe to explore the experience of sitting with thoughts and emotions that are uncomfortable.
Compare this to how we feel when we have ‘spilled our guts’ out to a group. We may feel we have been gossiping, because it’s rare that our stories don’t include other people, people that we care about deeply, but whom we have represented to this group only by their particular actions in this case. The unfairness of this shallow representation can make us feel badly, compounding our already complex set of emotions rather than freeing us from them. So the sharer may feel worse for the sharing.
And the listener? How useful are other people’s stories? Sometimes they make us feel better about our own situation, and we are thankful that is not happening to us. This puts us into comparing mind. Some fearful part of ourselves wants to differentiate ourselves from the teller, assuring ourselves that that would never happen to us, or we think for us it would be different in some way for some reason. Just as likely, the hearing of a story puts us back in time, jerking us out of the present moment, to relive a similar experience. Or it puts us in fear of the future, knowing that it is very likely that we will at sometime be in that same situation and we dread it.
Please remember that we are not insulating ourselves from other people’s problems. We have family and friends whom we know well, and with whom we share an intimacy that is quite different from a practicing sangha. A sangha is not built on the intimate sharing of stories or a history together. A sangha can be a gathering of people we barely know, or a mix of new and old members and of experienced and beginner practitioners. While friendships can certainly develop within the sangha, the sangha itself cannot be dependent on these friendships or it becomes stale and loses its purpose. A closed or exclusive sangha has lost its way.
The purpose of the sangha is at all times to inspire skillful practice for staying present, and for fostering kindness, compassion, connection, balance and ease.
But wait a minute, many dharma teachers, including myself, do share personal stories. The Buddha told many stories. Stories are important! Yes, a story that illustrates a point of dharma is valuable. A teacher who shares an experience has chosen that experience for that very reason. Hopefully the story will be told in a way that inspires rather than sets up an emotional chain reaction that takes everyone out of the moment.
Of course, dharma teachers are human and may miss the mark with a story, but inspiration is the intent. Experienced dharma students and meditation practitioners may contribute in this way as well, making for a rich discussion that deepens dharma understanding.
Notice when a discussion is over if you feel inspired, deepened, more spacious, enlightened, or if you feel dragged through the muck! This would be a clue that the dharma teacher is not giving sufficient instruction for sharing, or is treating a dharma circle like a therapy group. (Often dharma teachers are trained therapists as well, but they usually understand the distinction between the two roles.)
Of course, not all sanghas gatherings have discussion periods. Many are focused on a teacher giving a formal talk with time afterwards for questions to clarify understanding of the talk. The larger the sangha, the more likely this is to be the case. When you join a class, it is important to notice how the class is set up. If a teacher wants to create a discussion group, he or she will invite comments and sharing. If no invitation is forthcoming, a student can assume that silence is kindly requested so that the teacher may follow his or her train of thought of an often carefully planned dharma talk. Many times the question the student may have will be answered further along in the talk, so it is simply a matter of being patient. If the question is not answered, then when the teacher is finished, questions may be invited. If not, the question can be posed one on one after the class ends.
When there is a discussion circle, participants can all contribute to the conversation by really listening to each other, staying open to the nature of the topic being discussed, and by being present and noting what arises in their experience of this moment. We may notice our own striving to be heard, to be seen in a favorable light. It’s interesting to notice the fear that prompts this need -- a fear of disappearing, of not being valued. This is a shared human fear. Being compassionate with ourselves when we recognize it allows us to appreciate simply sitting in sangha in silence, until what we have to share seems to be called forth by the weaving of the dharma we are learning together. It enables us also to have great compassion for those in the sangha who, spawned by that same fear, may talk more than seems skillful. Wise Speech is one of the most challenging aspects of the Eightfold Path. That’s why being on retreat in blissful silence can feel so restful!
When we are participating in a sangha discussion, may we stay present, sensing in to physical sensation at all times. May we recognize the past and the future as wisps of thought and waves of emotion arising in this moment. May we share this sense of presence with our sangha, for the benefit of all beings.
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