How can I know, but not KNOW?
Hello all,
I’ve only been studying the dharma for a year now, and this topic perhaps relates particularly to my lack of experience applying it to my life. But in that year’s time I feel that I have come to know/experience at least some of the basic principles and Buddhist philosophy. And in applying these philosophies to my life, they seem to make sense; holding up to my logic and testing.
I understand that I am only what I am. Should I be striped of my past, or of my hopes for the future, my music, my hobbies, my clothing or anything else I base my identity on, ultimately this should not change who I am. And that I should not try to cling to these as if my existence depends on them. I should stop trying to prove my existence, and just enjoy existence.
Yet yesterday, when an important academic application deadline for me arrived, and unexpected circumstances jeopardized my ability to satisfy this deadline, I instantly sunk into such a deep pit of anxiety that my body ached, my gut wrenched, and my mind soon became burn out. In that instant, all that philosophy flew out the window and was replaced with feelings of impeding doom, self-doubt, failure, and self-pity. Even when I looked out the window and observed pine branches waving gently in the brisk fall breeze I still could not convince myself that that tranquility and ‘suchness’ could ease this situation, or even be applied to the situation at hand.
The only difference I can say I noticed between my reaction yesterday, and how I may have reacted to a similar situation a year earlier was that I made a few efforts to be mindful of the pain (though they were short lived at best).
It is now 24 hours later, and things managed to came together (as they often do). In looking back, I am amazed how quickly my “all things are inherently perfect” attitude was jettisoned when my ego was so abruptly brought back to a reality it didn’t like. It is true that “all things are impermanent / this too shall pass”, and it did, and I feel stronger because of it. But although I believe I can and am learning from it, the reaction was so instinctual that I fear I will not be able to evade it next time such a scenario comes a’knokin’.
How easy it is for me to take for granted that I am even in a position to submit this particular application at all. :?
Re: How can I know, but not KNOW?
Quote:
Originally Posted by Kelly M.
... I instantly sunk into such a deep pit of anxiety that my body ached, my gut wrenched, and my mind soon became burn out. In that instant, all that philosophy flew out the window and was replaced with feelings of impeding doom, self-doubt, failure, and self-pity. ...
The only difference I can say I noticed between my reaction yesterday, and how I may have reacted to a similar situation a year earlier was that I made a few efforts to be mindful of the pain (though they were short lived at best). ...
. But although I believe I can and am learning from it, the reaction was so instinctual that I fear I will not be able to evade it next time such a scenario comes a’knokin’.
How easy it is for me to take for granted that I am even in a position to submit this particular application at all. :?
Hi Kelly,
Our brains are wired to react to situations in just this way. We react to dangers, including imagined dangers, in all the ways you describe because millions of years of evolution have programmed us to do so. {A good article on the subject I just finished reading ... I will need to see if it is online ... made the point that peaceful, contented, Buddhist squirrels would have an evolutionary disadvantage to slightly stressed and fearful squirrels who would be more on the alert for natural enemies. For that reason, our brains trend to react to, and recall in long term memory, negative emotions and situation much more easily than positive reactions and emotions, for example, we react to and recall the 'bad' times in our lives much more easily than the 'good' times. We visualize all the "worst case outcomes" for the future because they help us survive ... at least, they used to help us survive in the jungle). That's why, in Zen, we call those very primal parts of the brain, and their reactions, the "monkey mind"!
In fact, the reactions you describe occur in parts of the brain so early evolved, so instinctual, that our Zen practice does not reach there so easily. In the "heat of the moment", these reactions tend to "take us over".
That being said ...
(1) Your awareness, Kelly, of the fact that this was happening is a very positive thing. In other words, you are not just lost in the anxiety, but had some awareness "Ah, this is just my brain, at this moment, reacting with anxiety to temporary circumstances". That is a fruit of your Buddhist Practice.
(2) Zen practice will not keep the boat from tilting over now and then, and it is easy to "lose it" now and then. That being said, we do learn to recover our balance much more quickly than before, realize how we are reacting, and find our balance once again. I once wrote a little essay on this when I crashed a canoe into an alligator in the Everglades ...
http://treeleafzen.blogspot.com/2007/03/gator-zen.html
(3) Some gurus or books may lead you to the impression that the point of our practice to is arrive at some state where we are always, forever and ever, unshakably blissful, tranquil, calm and the like ... never "lose it" like you describe. More power to those gurus if they have the ability to do that (promising that to folks is a great way to get people to respect you as a guru, and to sell books. I think most folks who claim to have attained that ... maybe not all ... are fakes. In fact, if you want that, heroin or cocaine is probably a more effective choice of means). In contrast, our Zen practice is more about being at home with our human selves, our human nature including the rough points. We can smooth out some rough parts via our Zen practice (e.g., we can get back in the canoe faster and not tip it over as much), but we cannot smooth all the rough parts. So, we embrace that fact.
We are at peace with the fact that, sometimes, we go to pieces. We are one with a universe that stinks sometimes. We drop all fear of the fact that we will sometimes be afraid. We are happy with the fact the we are sometimes depressed ... get the point? That is true Peace ... Peace at peace with a life not always peaceful!!!
The next time you hit an alligator, you might react with a surprising degree of calm. In fact, after continuing your Zazen for months and years, I can almost guaranty that you will (at least, it is so for most people). But, if you are most people, you will never get away from the brain's "monkey mind" completely.
I think so.
Gassho, Jundo
PS - I have been meaning to do a couple of talks on the blog about fake promises from gurus who are "fakirs". Do you know the origin of that word??
Quote:
A fakir or faqir is a Sufi, especially one who performs feats of endurance or apparent magic. Derived from faqr (فقر Arabic)
Many stereotypes of the great fakir exist, among the more extreme being the picture of a near-naked man effortlessly walking barefoot on burning coals, sitting or sleeping on a bed of nails, levitating during bouts of meditation, or "living on air" (refusing all food).
Gurus, Eastern and Western, who promise endless bliss every moment are 'fakirs"
