'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

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!

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.

The Importance of Sangha

The Sangha is the community of Buddhist meditation practitioners who support us in our practice simply by being present and true to their own practice.

While I was in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico this visit I was fortunate to find a meditation sangha that felt like coming home to me. This was a great gift and a boon to my practice. Although I have my meditation spot in our house in San Miguel -- and although I know full well all the benefits of regular practice to my health, happiness and creativity -- it is still surprisingly easy to to shorten a sit, to skip a sit when I wake up late, as I might when in a different country, on a different schedule, and not replace it with one later in the day. When I am away from my sangha, my community of practitioners in the US, it is much easier to lose my dedication to meditation.

When I returned home to the US after a month away, and met with my students, of course I wanted to know how they did with their personal practice. What most found was that without the regular weekly gathering of sangha, their personal practice either fell by the wayside or became sporadic. Some felt discouraged by this, but really it’s just a reminder of the importance of sangha.

When we practice Buddhism, we take refuge in the Buddha, that inspiration of the possibility of awakening in any moment. We take refuge in the Dharma, the teachings of the historical Buddha that provide guidance and insight into how we cause suffering and how to end suffering. Third, and no less important, we take refuge in the Sangha, the community of practitioners who remind us by their very presence and their own personal dedication, of the importance of the practice and the value of what we are doing.

We can remind ourselves that the Buddha had a sangha. He practiced with a group of ascetics for six years before sitting under the Boddhi tree and reaching enlightenment. And after reaching enlightenment he returned to his sangha, taught them what he had learned, traveled with them and built sangha wherever they went. The Buddha was not a hermit. He had a community of fellow practitioners.

When we go on a silent retreat, we may at first feel that we are alone, because we are in silence and have no eye contact. We do an inward turning, noticing the nature of our sensory experience. But soon we become aware that even though our fellow retreatants are focused also on their inward experience, together we are supporting each other in this practice. That is the nature of sangha. At the deepest level we recognize the unity of our experience, honor the shared dedication and are inspired to continue our practice.


So there is no shame in not being able to sustain a practice on our own. Feeling bad about it simply causes suffering. Instead we are reminded of the importance of sangha. Let’s create sangha wherever we go! Let’s acknowledge our sangha, be able to recognize extended sangha and be sangha for others whenever possible.

There is no substitute for a sitting group coming together on a regular basis. Fortunately there are many available. You can find sitting groups in Inquiring Mind magazine, for example.

It is also important to remember that the value of the sangha continues even when the teacher is absent. The last time I was away for an extended period, my class organized to meet at each other’s homes for the duration, reading and discussing a Buddhist book together. It worked out very well, and their personal practices were for the most part sustained.

When I was away this time however, because others in the group were traveling as well and it was only for five weeks, not eight, the plan to get together never gelled, and so each student was on her own to continue the practice.

Sangha is important! It’s not a crutch! It’s the nature of our way of being in the world. We are social creatures. We are like redwoods whose network of roots support each other close to the surface of the forest floor. Remember John Donne’s poem: “No man is an island.” None of us stands alone. We are communal creatures. We are connected.

Who are the members of your sangha? How often do you get together with your sangha? If you are struggling with your personal practice, perhaps it’s for lack of a regular sangha. Take refuge in the Buddha, the Dharma and the Sangha. All three work together to support us in our practice and to help end suffering for ourselves and all beings.

Age -- What's in a Number?

In the last class until late February we followed up on how this idea of linear time impacts our perceptions of who we are and the nature of life.

We talked about birthdays, especially those big threshold birthdays that seem ever more daunting. I have a friend who is turning 75 and is terrified of the age. She didn’t know why until she realized that a good friend had died at the age of 75. This is one of the ways we latch on to numbers and turn them into bogeymen.

My beloved aunt was sure she would die at the age of 73. After all her mother and sister both died at that age. Therefore, she would too. It made no difference when we would mention that both of them had been lifelong smokers with emphysema and related issues and she had never smoked. No, to die at 73 was her destiny.

So my phone call to her on her 74th birthday was sweet indeed. It was as if she had been given a whole new life. She is now in her mid-80’s and happier than she was in her 60’s when she foretold her own death.

The husband of a meditator in our group is quite certain he will die this year. He says he has always known that this is the age he will die. He may well do so. Any of us might die this year. Who knows? Like my aunt, nothing anyone says can dissuade him from this belief. So I told his wife that if this was the last year of his life, perhaps he could follow Stephen Levine’s book A Year to Live: How to Live this Year as if It Were Your Last. That way whether he dies this year or not, it will have been a rich skillful experience of living fully.

If we were not so attached to this imaginary time line, if we could sense into the spaciousness and compassionate nature of simply being alive in this moment, at one with the cycles and seasons of the natural world, we would be less inclined to vest an imaginary number or date with so much significance. We would be able to release set ideas about what it is to be a certain age, stop hemming ourselves in about what we are able or not able to do, based on a number rather than our sense of being in this moment.

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This is the last dharma talk until the end of February as our class is on hiatus. In the interim I encourage you to look over the topics on the right side of this blog and find ones of interest to you. Combine the reading of one post with a meditation before or after. This could be your daily practice, or you could set aside time once a week to read. There are 170 posts. Even for those of you who have read them all, you will find something new now, because you are in a different state of mind and facing different challenges than when you read it before. So explore the blog freely. And please comment at the bottom of any post you read. Just click on ‘QUESTIONS & COMMENTS.’ I would love to read what you have to share or have the opportunity to answer any questions you may have.

If you are new to meditating or feel the need of refreshment instruction, please notice that at the top of this blog there is a tab for a separate page that offers basic meditation instruction. The development of a daily practice of meditation is the greatest gift any of us can give ourselves, for through it we access wisdom, compassion and appreciation for this gift of life in all its seasons.