My roof is just a little leaky

Even as rain penetrates an ill-thatched house, so does lust penetrate an undeveloped mind.

Even as the rain does not penetrate a well-thatched house, so does lust not penetrate a well-developed mind.

Dhammapada 1:9

Commitment

I’ve been thinking lately about commitment in relationships. A day-to-day commitment makes the most sense to me as a Buddhist. I am glad that I have had some training in the appreciation of impermanence. This training is necessary for a person that like things decided. Fortunately, with this training and from the aversion I have to marriage after having been through two divorces, I am more comfortable with ambiguity than ever before. Nothing is not subject to change. Nothing. I fully recognize and appreciate this. However, to some degree there must be some ground to stand on. It is understood that it may not be ground that stays under our feet, but ground that is there now.

How does a Buddhist divorcee with kids reconcile this paradox of commitment/stability and impermanence/instability? I want to be sensitive to my kids’ need for security and consistency, yet at the same time, they are just as susceptible to impermanence as everyone else. Impermanence is a truth that cannot be hidden or denied. But what can I do to minimize the impacts to their security while at the same time live our lives together fully? Lives that change? People that change?

I have never introduced anyone I’ve dated to my children. It results in a somewhat secretive, double life of sorts. I certainly feel this is necessary. It is important to me that there is a certain level of commitment in an intimate relationship before I would feel comfortable introducing a man to my kids. But I need to better define “certain level of commitment.” The word “commitment” is a very scary word to me, and frankly I am not interested in the “lock down” that the term implies to me. Yet at the same time, it just seems silly to keep my kids completely out of that part of my life indefinitely.

The kind of relationship that I want for myself is one with sexual exclusivity but otherwise total freedom. I want my lover to have the choice to be with me. A choice that he is free to make or not make every day. When he is free to make that choice and he chooses me, that feels much better than someone being with me out of obligation, because he said “I do” in a solemn vow, signed on the dotted line, or is simply dependent upon me in some way.

This is difficult to translate into terms that society understands. Our culture is all about marriage. In spite of the reality of high divorce rates, the underlying collective belief is that one must be married in order to be a true member of society. There are a few rebels out there fortunately. Gene Simmons and Shannon Tweed, who have been together for 26 years say they are “Happily Unmarried.” www.imdb.com/title/tt0840859/ Goldie Hawn says about her 27 year relationship with Kurt Russell: “I wake up every day knowing I can walk out at any moment.” http://www.people.com/people/article/0,,20401691,00.html More people than ever before are cohabitating and not getting married. I think the tides are turning, though slowly. Commitment and choice need not be at odds. I believe in commitment to one another’s freedom of choice. How beautiful lovers are who choose each other again and again as the years roll by.

It is difficult to have this commitment to freedom of choice when I have kids. The kind of freedom I want in a relationship means that there could come a point of not choosing each other anymore and then my kids are left wondering. I feel compelled to protect them, but how can this be entirely prevented? Since I can’t predict the future, all I can do is examine my intentions in the present moment. And the intentions of the man I might introduce my kids to. My intention is for a long-term relationship. Long-term meaning something that has a good chance of continuing for more than a year. When I have gotten to know someone well enough to have determined that there is long-term potential, I might be ready for my kids to meet him. It only need have potential. And of course these intentions must be mutual. How long it takes to get to know someone to that degree is up for debate, I suppose. I probably would have to allow more time than I’d like. Once I had decided this, it probably would be wise to wait another month or two, just to rule out my tendency to rush into having things decided.

Introducing my kids to a lover would be a pretty big deal and it would indicate a commitment for me. But not a binding sort of commitment. I don’t want to be tied down. I don’t need a vow and I don’t need or want my partner to say “forever.” There only needs to be mutual agreement that what we have is worth putting some amount of effort into keeping it going. That is all.

Let’s talk a little bit about impermanence

I have written about this topic before, but it is not a topic that gets old for me. My “judging” personality type prefers things be decided and it is a very strong habit pattern. I like to analyze, sort, figure out, determine, move left or right, settle the score, define, categorize. I have a tendency to wait to make decisions or take action until things are stable. And on the other side of the coin, if things are not stable, I have a tendency to make hasty decisions with the intention of making them stable. There certainly is benefit to having neat and orderly habits, but it can be a real burden at times in the form of perfectionism.

Meditation practice has helped me to feel more comfortable with ambiguity, groundlessness and impermanence. Meditating on the fact that nothing is certain actually brings a sense of freedom. I can sort and determine and plan – and it is good to do so, but ultimately, all that really matters is what is happening right in front of me, right now. Reflecting on impermanence helps push me into the present moment. I can’t wait until some future time to live. The time to live is Now. It is always Now. I have hopes and plans for the future, but none of that is certain. All that is actually certain is what is happening Now. Even what happened in the past is not certain. Thoughts about the past are just thoughts happening now in the present. What happened in the past was only certain at the time it actually happened. Now the past is just a memory and the further I get from it, the more unreliable my memory is of it.

I am not tied down by any negative circumstance because it will eventually change. All I need is patience. I am not tied down by any positive circumstance because of the understanding that it will eventually change. I am more easily able to let good things go when they change because it is not a surprise. There is no delusion that somehow I could make things stay the same.

There is a wonderful Zen story about how no circumstance can really be categorized as good/bad, lucky/unlucky. Jon J. Muth tells this story very nicely in the children’s book Zen Shorts:

There was once an old farmer who had worked his crops for many years. One day, his horse ran away. Upon hearing the news, his neighbors came to visit. "Such bad luck," they said sympathetically. "Maybe," the farmer replied.

The next morning the horse returned, bringing with it two other wild horses. "Such good luck!" the neighbors exclaimed. "Maybe," replied the farmer.

The following day, his son tried to ride one of the untamed horses, was thrown off, and broke his leg. Again, the neighbors came to offer their sympathy on his misfortune. "Such bad luck," they said. "Maybe," answered the farmer.

The day after that, military officials came to the village to draft young men into the army to fight in a war. Seeing that the son's leg was broken, they passed him by. "Such good luck!" cried the neighbors. "Maybe," said the farmer.

All of the events and circumstances of our lives are relative. And often, we may not even realize how “lucky” we are in a particular moment. There are layers upon layers of conditions contributing to the events of our lives. Perhaps it is for the best not to know how it could be better or worse, only how it is now.

Slow and Steady Wins the Race

It feels like a long time since I last posted. It hasn't been that long, but it feels like longer because I have gotten out of the habit of just writing freely whenever a thought crosses my mind. It is ironic that my last post was the earthworm quote, since lately I have been doing some writing for a more public audience, with the intention that I might actually earn some money for some of my writing. It would be nice to eventually get out of the corporate world and do something more creative for a living, like writing or life coaching. Perhaps I will, I don't know. It takes time, I think. And I've never been patient enough in the past to really give my true vocational longings a real shot. I have ideas about the way things should be and then I expect that it be that way NOW. But obviously that is not the way things work in the real world. A seed gets planted, then watered and given sunlight and grows... slowly. Sometimes the growing seedling even wilts, then comes back. If one were to watch it constantly, it would seem like it was never getting anywhere.

So often I feel this way about my life and meditation practice. I meditate nearly every day and have for about 7 years, and the benefits are so gradual and subtle, almost barely even noticed. I still have the same anxieties, struggles, insecurities. Old baggage comes up again and again.

But when I stop and really look at my life at this point, I see how far I have come. It seems like a miracle has happened, even though it has taken 7 years of slow and patient work. Morning anxiety is more of a friend than an enemy and doesn't hit me nearly as hard as it did for so many years. I am less afraid of making mistakes and more willing to own up to them than ever before. When I hear thoughts of ill-will toward myself and others in my mind, I can no longer entertain them. I see craving, I see impermanence, I see suffering. I can no longer run away - and what a relief!

At first the not being able to run away was quite painful. What? You mean I need to face this stuff? I thought meditation was supposed to be relaxing!! Early days of meditation practice and retreat practice contained a lot of idealistic self-judgment for me. How can one look at all one's ugliness and not have some sense of self-disgust? But thanks to my skillful teachers, I have found compassion instead of disgust for my monstrous qualities. Self-love instead of self-hatred. I CARE about this pain, I told myself again and again. And you know what? I found that I actually do. And that caring for myself in that way is healing and amazing and beautiful.

I just love this quote I saw on a coffee cup in the office of my marriage counselor several years ago:

"Be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe no less than the trees and the stars." From the poem, "Desiderata" by Max Ehrmann.

So perhaps that is an overly used quote, but there is a reason for that. It is true and it is good. Be GENTLE with yourself. Have compassion for yourself. Care for yourself. That is what gets us over the hump and ends the battle within.

So the point I am trying to come to is that this did not happen for me overnight. I can't discredit the immediate benefits of mindfulness meditation - they are incredible (calming, stress-relieving, grounding). But sustained effort in maintaining mindfulness over a long period of time, I am only beginning to recognize the benefits of. And why should I think that a career change would be any different? Starting out slowly, from where I am, not expecting any big, immediate results, being satisfied with small successes here and there. These are the keys to big life changes. Big life changes start out small and evolve slowly and naturally over time with persistence. Persistence and discrediting of the voices that try to talk me out of what I really want for my life.

Be an Earthworm

Sometimes I spin off into my idealistic ambitions. All I need to do is read this, a quote by Ajahn Sumedho in the book After the Ecstasy, The Laundry by Jack Kornfield, to set me straight:

"For minds obsessed by compulsive thinking and grasping, you simplify your meditaiton practices to just two words -- 'let go' -- rather than try to develop this practice, and then develp that, achieve this, and go into that. The grasping mind wants to read the suttas, to study the Abhidamma, and to learn Pali and Sanskrit, then the Madhyamika and the Prajna Paramita, get ordinations in the Hinayana, Mahayana, Vajrayana, write books and become a renowned authority on Buddhism.

"Instead of becoming the world's expert on Buddhism and being invited to great international conferences, why not just 'let go, let go, let go'?... Some of you might have the desire to become the Buddha of the age, Maitreya, radiating love throughout the world. Instead, just be an earthworm who knows only two words -- 'let go, let go, let go.' You see, ours is called the Lesser Vehicle, the Hinayana, so we only have these poverty-stricken practices."

Drama

"You say you don't want it,
The circus we're in,
But you don't,
You don't really mean it."

-Tori Amos, "Spark"

I certainly think that my taste for drama has subsided substantially over several years, but it never seems to want to go away completely. I say I don't want drama in my life, but my brain is always trying to whip something up out of nothing. This isn't necessarily a problem. It is very distracting, but it is a natural occurrence. I have no judgement about it. Habit energies can be very strong, to the point where we don't really have much control over them. But to see them does take the edge off. The mind still spins off, yet I watch and say to myself, "Wow, look at that! Look how crazy the mind is right now!" It can't be anything other than this. All I can do is return to my breath or mantra in an attempt to put a dent in the cycle. And of course, there is always self-restraint. I may not be able to stop the flow of drama in my mind, but I don't have to act out any of it. It is easier not to act on drama in the mind when it is seen clearly as drama. It doesn't necessarily go away very easily, but at least it is seen. There truly is value in that seeing. What is seen can be transformed.

Something from the James Baraz talk I heard some time ago that continues to stick in my mind is that people who are mindful still get stuck in our dramas - but not for as long. We spin off, but we recover much more quickly than we did before we practiced mindfulness. We should give ourselves credit for this and see that we are that much more happy than we were before the practice! We are that much more free. Keep up the good work!!

"The world is so dramatic...
I can't believe
That we're still livin'
Oh in this crazy crazy world
That I'm still livin'
With all the problems of the day
How can we go on
So tired of hearing people say
How can we go on
Fantasy people
Make believe people
How can you go on
But you're still livin'..."

-Erykah Badu "Drama"

Walking Meditation

I put off sitting down and meditating last night until it was very late and I really needed to go to bed. I was restless though, so I went outside and just walked for 15 minutes. It was a good call.

Step,
Breathing,
Step,
Hearing crickets,
Step,
Feeling pavement under my feet,
Step,
Looking at the pavement rocks sparkling in the the moonlight,
Step,
Mosquitos biting, skin itching,
Step,
Thinking,
Step,
Joy,
Step,
Breathing,
Step,
Smiling...