When Grief Comes Knocking

Recently I was driving south on Hwy 101 from my home in rural Humboldt County, California on my way to San Francisco, about 300 miles away. The route is extremely beautiful as it winds away from the Pacific Coast, through ancient Redwood forests, along the Eel and Russian Rivers, then in and out of endless soft rolling grassy hills of Live Oaks and vineyards that hug the contour of the landscape, arriving finally at the Golden Gate Bridge where the road once again meets the ocean. This is a drive I’ve done regularly for the last 30 years. It’s truly stunning. I’m accustomed to this beauty and depending on the season, I anticipate how it will look each time I travel.

In the winter it rains here and the hills turn many shades of lush green and the rivers grow wide and full. But this winter is different. There’s been no rain, and the hills aren’t their usual shade of end-of-autumn brown. They’re gray, ashen gray. The rivers are nearly dry, and the water that remains barely moves. The sun shines every day, there is no rain in the forecast, and I am worried. I never imagined a day when waking up to sunshine would give me a sinking feeling. What does an impending drought mean for everything? It’s so big I can barely wrap my mind around it.

I am, by nature, very optimistic. It’s my default setting. So much so, that in order to not be blind-sided by my own optimism, I have developed the habit of asking myself “what’s wrong with this picture?” before diving into new ventures that have long-range consequences. This sort of discerning question keeps my potential impulsivity in check and helps me stay balanced.

But over the last several months I’ve found myself on the other side of things; often feeling pessimistic, stuck in the rut of everything sad, rubbing up against grief. Not just my small personal griefs, but the Big Grief, the Grief of World; global environmental degradation, climate disruption, extreme economic inequities, the effects of wide-spread poverty, (to name a few), and the outrageously painful fact that by being alive and living in the world, consuming any goods at all, I am part of the problem.

So what’s wrong with this picture? Actually, there’s everything right with this picture. It’s right to feel grief. It’s right to see things as they actually are. It’s right to feel outrage, and it’s right to feel up close, in our bones how the small self is deeply and inextricably bound to the Big Self.

“In a real sense, all life is interrelated. All men [and women] are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly. I can never be what I ought to be, and you can never be what you ought to be until I am what I ought to be. This is the interrelated structure of reality.”    -Martin Luther King, Jr.

From the perspective of mindfulness practice, there are many ways to approach grief, pain, and sadness. When my teacher, Sylvia Boorstein, is caught in a knot she stops and says to herself, “Sweetheart, you’re in pain. Take a breath.”

This is really excellent advice on three fronts. First, by addressing herself as “sweetheart,” she holds herself with love and compassion which, right away, relaxes the mind and reduces the sting of the current pain. Secondly, by naming what’s happening, “you’re in pain,” she identifies what’s happening. When we understand what’s happening, we can choose how to respond, hopefully with wisdom and skill. And thirdly, the instruction “take a breath,” gives her something to do in the immediate, to offer herself some relief. Stopping to breathe is like pressing the pause button. It calms the mind and for the moment, turns down the volume on whatever story is playing. It’s brilliant, it’s compassionate, and it works.

I realize that saying “Sweetheart, you’re in pain, take a breath,” is not going to end climate disruption or feed hungry people, but it will give me the space and courage I need to pause and think about what I can do. It also teaches me to respond to my own pain with kindness and compassion. 

When grief comes knocking, let compassion answer.

Compassion

I’m a little late with this post because I had some minor hand surgery last week and typing is really a challenge. Next week will hopefully be easier. Nevertheless, I’ve been thinking about compassion, the next of the Brahma-Viharas, the Immeasurable or Divine mind states. I like to think of them as the most beautiful and comfortable states the mind can experience: loving-kindness, compassion, appreciative joy and equanimity.

Compassion is literally the ability to turn towards, acknowledge and embrace the suffering of another, a mingling of sympathy and empathy that is entirely focused on the other without the need or attempt to fix or change anything. Just the capacity to be with whatever suffering is present.

I’ll write more about this just as soon as I can type with more than one hand. But in the meantime,

A human being is a part of the whole, called by us “Universe,” a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings as something separated from the rest – a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty.      -Albert Einstein

Metta - part 2

When my kids were teenagers, they went to the high school about a half mile from my work. Whenever I’d hear a siren during school hours, I would first check the time. Are they in class or at lunch in another teenager’s car going who knows where? My mind would tense and my heart would tighten as I worried that something horrible had happened to them. It became my habit, and has remained so, that whenever I hear a siren, I say a metta phrase to myself. Something like “may they be ok, may they not be too hurt, may they be safe.” I know that my wishes are not magic, and won’t change whatever has happened. And I also know that my wishes make me feel better and restore my mind and heart to a more comfortable less frightened place.

“The Buddha first taught the metta meditation as an antidote to fear, as a way of surmounting terrible fear when it arises. The legend is that he sent a group of monks off to meditate in a forest that was inhabited by tree spirits. These spirits resented the presence of the monks and tried to drive them away by appearing as ghoulish visions, with awful smells and terrible, shrieking noises. The tradition says that the monks became terrified and ran back to the Buddha, begging him to send them to a different forest for their practice. Instead, the Buddha replied, "I am going to send you back to the same forest, but I will provide you with the only protection you will need." This was the first teaching of metta meditation. The Buddha encouraged the monks not only to recite the metta phrases but to actually practice them. As these stories all seem to end so happily, so did this one—it is said that the monks went back and practiced metta, so that the tree spirits became quite moved by the beauty of the loving energy filling the forest, and resolved to care for and serve the monks in all ways.

The inner meaning of the story is that a mind filled with fear can still be penetrated by the quality of lovingkindness. Moreover, a mind that is saturated by lovingkindness cannot be overcome by fear; even if fear should arise, it will not overpower such a mind.”

Sharon Salzberg, Loving-Kindness; The Revolutionary Art of Happiness.

Here is the Buddha’s original teaching on metta, The Metta Sutta. I hope you enjoy it. As you read it, you might find that a certain line feels particularly meaningful, and then another and then another. Spend some time with it and see what seems most important. Then come back a read it another day and see what’s important then. Or you might choose to keep a particular line in mind as you go through your day as a reminder or an intention.

Metta Sutta; The Buddha's Words on Loving-Kindness

This is what should be done
By those who are skilled in goodness,
And who know the path of peace:
Let them be able and upright,
Straightforward and gentle in speech,
Humble and not conceited,
Contented and easily satisfied,
Unburdened with duties and frugal in their ways,
Peaceful and calm, and wise and skillful,
Not proud and demanding in nature.
Let them not do the slightest thing
That the wise would later reprove.
Wishing: in gladness and in safety,
May all beings be at ease.
Whatever living beings there may be;
Whether they are weak or strong, omitting none,
The great or the mighty, medium, short or small,
The seen and the unseen,
Those living near and far away,
Those born and to-be-born—
May all beings be at ease!
Let none deceive another,
Or despise any being in any state.
Let none through anger or ill-will
Wish harm upon another.
Even as a mother protects with her life
Her child, her only child,
So with a boundless heart
Should one cherish all living beings;
Radiating kindness over the entire world,
Spreading upward to the skies,
And downward to the depths;
Outward and unbounded,
Freed from hatred and ill-will.
Whether standing or walking, seated or lying down,
Free from drowsiness,
One should sustain this recollection.
This is said to be the sublime abiding.
By not holding to fixed views,
The pure-hearted one, having clarity of vision,
Being freed from all sense desires,
Is not born again into this world.

Growing Fat with Friendliness

No one is born hating another person because of the color of his skin, or his background, or his religion. People must learn to hate, and if they can learn to hate, they can be taught to love, for love comes more naturally to the human heart than its opposite.  

Nelson Mandela, Long Walk to Freedom

Now that we’ve completed the exploration of the Eightfold Path, we’ll move on and look at what the Buddha taught as the Brahma-Viharas, translated from Pali as the Heavenly or Divine Abodes or Dwelling Place, also known as the Four Immeasurables. They include loving-kindness (metta), compassion (karuna), appreciative joy (mudita), and equanimity (upekkha). Through meditation practice, each is cultivated not only as a beautiful state of mind and heart, but also and I think more significantly, as a way of being, and ultimately as a way of life.

Individually, the brahma-viharas are powerful guideposts, and reflections of our most natural and essential goodness. As a whole, they are a precious gem and a trusted ally. Accessing my capacity to act out of loving-kindness, compassion, appreciative joy or equanimity for myself and/or others, brings me right back to balance, to what is most important, and keeps me fully in the present.

Just as mindfulness is like shining a flashlight on the mind, bringing into view just what is present in this moment, practicing with the brahma-viharas is like shining the light on the heart; accessing, illuminating, and bringing out its most basic nature.

Metta – part 1

Metta is often translated as Loving-Kindness, Loving Awareness, or simply Love. I recently heard John Peacock, the British Pali scholar translate metta as “to grow fat with friendliness.” I think that’s great. I love the idea that at any time, I can expand my capacity to be friendly.

Metta practice is the continual undoing and uprooting of any existing ill will, no matter how subtle. And it can be hard to see; all the various forms of internal judgment of ourselves and others, the continual cultural conditioning that tells us we’re flawed, unworthy or not enough. Metta is the beautiful and transformative practice of developing non-ill will. It resets our default setting to a state of friendliness and kindness. It is said that this kind of goodwill is like a gentle rain falling indiscriminately over everything.

Cultivating metta is traditionally done through a very specific and systematic practice of inclining the heart towards goodwill and kindness for ourselves and others; those we know and love, those we know but might not love, those we don’t know at all, and ultimately for those we find difficult. 

When we deliberately tap into our own capacity to wish any amount of goodwill towards anyone, even a little bit, our own pain, discomfort, or struggle is lessened. Even if this happens once or hopefully as it becomes habit, we feel better, our minds are clearer, and we become kinder. We’re more easily able to look into the eyes of the person living on the street, maybe even say hello, and see that were it not for a million different causes and conditions, we, too, could be this person. This is the expansive quality of metta. It levels the playing field.

Metta Meditation Practice

In formal practice, one recites metta phrases silently as blessings, intentions or resolves. It can be helpful to visualize yourself (or the person or people to whom you're offering metta) feeling contented, peaceful, and happy while saying the phrases. Sometimes I enjoy putting my hand over the heart center while keeping the image in mind and saying the phrases. This connects the mind and heart directly to the intention of the practice. Try gently smiling, too. It relaxes the body. 

Outside of meditation, these phrases can be used anytime and anywhere you might feel fear, anger, anxiety or any uncomfortable emotional state. Just saying to yourself “safe and protected,” as you pass by a traffic accident, can bring some ease to the moment.

Metta practice is not magic. This is important. But offering goodwill calms and stabilizes both the mind and heart, and that is good for everyone.

Common Metta Phrases

May I/you be peaceful and happy
May I/you be safe and protected
May I/you be healthy and strong
May my/your life unfold with ease

Or:

May I/you be contented and pleased
May I/you be protected and safe
May I/you be gentle and kind
May I/you meet this moment with ease