Somewhere in my travels I came across this contrarian secret about
Buddhist teacher interviews: if you express anxiety or confusion at an
interview, the teacher’s job is to reassure you and give you
confidence; whereas if you show up confident and in control, their job
is to present you with deeper or more difficult challenges, to spur you
to undertake greater effort.
The latter was my experience in a recent interview I
had with Michael, one of the teachers at
CIMC. I began by telling him
that I was fairly satisfied with my life and that when I meditate, no
pressing issues seem to come up for me.
I told him that in general I am on top of things, using my planning
and organizational strengths to mitigate the risk involved in anything I
commit to or undertake. When that happens, he suggested that I examine
the energy level and the motive behind the actions I am taking, because
sometimes that impulse to have everything under control is driven by
fear or anxiety, rather than wisdom.
He then asked whether I had any suffering in my life or any deeply
buried insecurities or fears. While my life is generally quite good, of
course even I have a couple things I keep way down in the murky depths.
Without getting all personal about my own particular demons, it’s
important to be able to allow those feelings to reveal themselves,
rather than to instinctively suppress them, so that one can then make
choices and act out of wisdom rather than reactiveness.
So I left that interview with a bit more anxiety, and more of a sense
that I need to do a better job admitting and facing the things I fear,
rather than burying them. Joy.
Later that week we held another dharma movie night. I had proposed
the animated film
“Waking Life”, which is stuffed with
philosophical meanderings. Even though it’s mostly a bunch of
talking heads, and not everyone is as fascinated by philosophy as I am,
I expected people to find it thought-provoking. I might have even hoped
it would receive as positive a response as my book club selection
had.
But before the movie began, we got into a discussion of our next book
club selection: Mark Epstein’s
“Open to Desire: The Truth
About What the Buddha Taught”. When I was asked my opinion, I was
honest: I think the book is logically flawed, ridiculously deluded, and
dangerously misleading. On the other hand, a couple people
enthusiastically loved it, and wanted me to explain why I disagreed with
it. As the only person to openly criticize the book, I was on the
defensive, and at a disadvantage because it had been a month and a half
since I’d read it, and I didn’t have my notes to refer to.
So that unexpected discussion left me feeling a bit singled out.
Then we started the movie, which got a predominantly negative
reception. In fact, about a third of the way in, four people (out of
nine) got up and walked out of the room, spending the rest of the
evening outside on the patio rather than watching the rest of the movie.
While I have no problem allowing people to make their own decisions, and
I know that disliking the movie isn’t the same as disliking me as
a person, I still had some emotional turmoil to work through as a result
of their surprisingly blunt rejection of something that has a lot of
personal and philosophical meaning to me.
In between those two events,
CIMC had a dharma talk by Winnie Nazarko
that related to creativity. While the talk didn’t touch any nerves
for me, one point she made has stayed with me. In general, people engage
in a meditative practice because they’re looking for something,
whether it’s the answer to a personal dilemma or relief from
generalized existential angst. Winnie emphasized the importance of
knowing what your overriding question is, so that you can judge whether
or not you’re on the path toward an answer.
When I considered that question for myself, two responses came
immediately to mind. The first is my familiar refrain of how to live my
life such that I will have no regrets on my deathbed, as I discussed
here. The other is to learn how to make decisions which are
more consistent with my deeper sense of personal ethics and reflect the
person I aspire to be and the kind of world I want to manifest. I think
it’s a positive sign that those answers came so easily to me,
because it shows that I have a clear understanding of why I practice and
what I hope to achieve.
And last night at
CIMC Maddy held a dharma talk on generosity, and
how it is the basis of practice. As we age, we have to let go of
everything we have-our possessions, our relationships, our health,
and eventually our lives-and the essence of the spiritual path is
learning how to be at peace with that process so that we can both live
and die with grace and fulfillment.
If that is so, then acts of generosity are a good way to see if we
can let go of our possessions, and what it feels like to do so. By
exercising our ability to see beyond our attachment to material
possessions, we are practicing and becoming more familiar with the kind
of letting go that we must all eventually become accustomed to
facing.
On top of that, generosity is a truly ennobling act that is a
demonstration that one cares about others’ suffering. And it
provides fulfillment beforehand (in contemplating giving), during (in
the act of giving), and afterward (in the memory of having given). There
aren’t many actions one can take that are so pure and have so many
positive effects, both for others as well as for oneself.