Welcome to March and Step 3 -- Give up the delusion of control. To get us in the mood to consider control, here is the serenity prayer used in AA and other 12 step programs.
God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.
This step has been a real challenge for me in my life. Learning to identify and accept the things I cannot change has been one of the most important steps for me in finding my happy place and staying there.
Focusing on this issue this month is especially timely for me as I struggle to accept changes in my life now that I can't control. Life is offering me a wonderful opportunity to walk my talk!
I hope you will join me in exploring this issue, sharing stories and ideas, and finding ways to develop habits of acceptance, courage, and discernment.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Monday, February 28, 2011
Sometimes Right is Happy
Where did February go? In wrapping up our focus on Step 2 this month, deciding if you want to be right or happy, I posed some questions at the end of the last post about whether it is ever right to be right. Thank you for your excellent comments on that post and on many posts throughout the month.
Here are some final thoughts. It seems that when we explore this issue from different angles, there are two kinds of “right.”
There is the sense of right that is ego driven. This might manifest as self-righteousness, when we believe that our opinion is superior. Our egos might react to actual or perceived criticism with a defensive assertion of rightness. We might want to show off by correcting someone or displaying our knowledge about something. In many, if not all, of these situations, there is an underlying fear – fear of attack, fear of unworthiness, fear of embarrassment, fear of failure. The result is that we separate ourselves from others at the most basic level of our shared humanity. By insisting our our rightness, we cause the very isolation that we fear.
There is another sense of right that is driven by lack of ego. This manifests as integrity, honor, and courage. This is the rightness of the Noble Eightfold Path of Buddhism, the rightness of Gandhi, Martin Luther King Jr, Mother Theresa, Nelson Mandela. This is the rightness of the child who stands up to the bully on the playground, the homeless person who finds and returns a wallet full of money, a parent who admits a mistake to a child, a friend who honors a promise. In many, if not all, of these situations, there is an underlying peace, even joy. The result is that we connect ourselves to others at the most basic level of our shared humanity. By adhering to rightness, we cause the very union that we long for.
Perhaps George Washington was right (!) when he said, “Happiness and moral duty are inseparably connected.”
Namaste.
PS–And really, y’all know that the toilet paper should roll over the top!
Here are some final thoughts. It seems that when we explore this issue from different angles, there are two kinds of “right.”
There is the sense of right that is ego driven. This might manifest as self-righteousness, when we believe that our opinion is superior. Our egos might react to actual or perceived criticism with a defensive assertion of rightness. We might want to show off by correcting someone or displaying our knowledge about something. In many, if not all, of these situations, there is an underlying fear – fear of attack, fear of unworthiness, fear of embarrassment, fear of failure. The result is that we separate ourselves from others at the most basic level of our shared humanity. By insisting our our rightness, we cause the very isolation that we fear.
There is another sense of right that is driven by lack of ego. This manifests as integrity, honor, and courage. This is the rightness of the Noble Eightfold Path of Buddhism, the rightness of Gandhi, Martin Luther King Jr, Mother Theresa, Nelson Mandela. This is the rightness of the child who stands up to the bully on the playground, the homeless person who finds and returns a wallet full of money, a parent who admits a mistake to a child, a friend who honors a promise. In many, if not all, of these situations, there is an underlying peace, even joy. The result is that we connect ourselves to others at the most basic level of our shared humanity. By adhering to rightness, we cause the very union that we long for.
Perhaps George Washington was right (!) when he said, “Happiness and moral duty are inseparably connected.”
Namaste.
PS–And really, y’all know that the toilet paper should roll over the top!
Friday, February 25, 2011
When It's Right to be Right
This month is coming to a close. We have been focusing on making conscious decisions about when to assert our “rightness,” and when to choose instead to be “happy.”
We have looked at situations in which being right is not worth the cost creating unhappiness. For example, there was the waiter who corrected my pronunciation in the restaurant. Instead of letting it pass, I got huffy and corrected him right back (I’m Right – So What!). These situations often involve our ego, which feels embarrassed or threatened.
We have looked at situations in which there is not really a right or wrong answer, just opinions. For example, the topic that seemed to generate the most comments this month was whether the toilet paper should roll over the top or from underneath (One Hand Clapping)! Our insistence on the rightness of our opinions often hinders respectful debate and prevents connection with those who think differently than we do.
We have explored our underlying assumptions about our own knowledge (What I Know for Sure). A better title for that post would have been What I Don’t Know for Sure! Sometimes when I look beneath some unquestioned belief, I find that my foundation for that belief is not as concrete as I thought. I have, on rare occasions (!), even decided that I was mistaken. Or I have at least entertained the possibility, however unlikely (!), that I could be mistaken.
And we have considered the role of fear in our discomfort with multiple right answers (Beyond Right and Wrong).
General Patton said, “Don’t fight a battle if you won’t gain anything by winning.” In many of these scenarios, a quick cost/benefit analysis would suggest that the benefit of asserting our rightness does not outweigh the expense of our happiness or the happiness of others.
Does that mean that it is never right to be right? We considered this topic in The Mask of Happiness. Comments have raised thought-provoking questions about standing up against injustice. The Noble Eightfold Path is full of rightness – right view, right intention, right speech, right action, right livelihood, right effort, right mindfulness, right concentration. Was Buddha wrong?
So what do we really mean by deciding to be right or happy? Are these choices always mutually exclusive? Can they be reconciled?
Perhaps we can ponder these questions as a way of bringing our focus on Step 2 this month to a close. I would be very interested in hearing what you think. If you would like to share your thoughts, please leave a comment or email me. I will be away from my computer this weekend (at my cabin that has no phone or internet!), which means that there might be some delay in publishing your comments. Please know that every comment is important and I will publish them as soon as I get back.
We have looked at situations in which being right is not worth the cost creating unhappiness. For example, there was the waiter who corrected my pronunciation in the restaurant. Instead of letting it pass, I got huffy and corrected him right back (I’m Right – So What!). These situations often involve our ego, which feels embarrassed or threatened.
We have looked at situations in which there is not really a right or wrong answer, just opinions. For example, the topic that seemed to generate the most comments this month was whether the toilet paper should roll over the top or from underneath (One Hand Clapping)! Our insistence on the rightness of our opinions often hinders respectful debate and prevents connection with those who think differently than we do.
We have explored our underlying assumptions about our own knowledge (What I Know for Sure). A better title for that post would have been What I Don’t Know for Sure! Sometimes when I look beneath some unquestioned belief, I find that my foundation for that belief is not as concrete as I thought. I have, on rare occasions (!), even decided that I was mistaken. Or I have at least entertained the possibility, however unlikely (!), that I could be mistaken.
And we have considered the role of fear in our discomfort with multiple right answers (Beyond Right and Wrong).
General Patton said, “Don’t fight a battle if you won’t gain anything by winning.” In many of these scenarios, a quick cost/benefit analysis would suggest that the benefit of asserting our rightness does not outweigh the expense of our happiness or the happiness of others.
Does that mean that it is never right to be right? We considered this topic in The Mask of Happiness. Comments have raised thought-provoking questions about standing up against injustice. The Noble Eightfold Path is full of rightness – right view, right intention, right speech, right action, right livelihood, right effort, right mindfulness, right concentration. Was Buddha wrong?
So what do we really mean by deciding to be right or happy? Are these choices always mutually exclusive? Can they be reconciled?
Perhaps we can ponder these questions as a way of bringing our focus on Step 2 this month to a close. I would be very interested in hearing what you think. If you would like to share your thoughts, please leave a comment or email me. I will be away from my computer this weekend (at my cabin that has no phone or internet!), which means that there might be some delay in publishing your comments. Please know that every comment is important and I will publish them as soon as I get back.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Breathing Bob
One of the participants at the meditation workshop I went to last weekend was a man named Bob. At the afternoon discussion session, Bob was making a point about our interconnectedness. He observed that he was breathing in the air that someone else was breathing out.
During meditation, we had been focusing our awareness on our breath, so someone else suggested that we were breathing in each other’s awareness. And that led a joker in the bunch to blurt out, “We’re breathing Bob!”
I know, it’s a stretch. Meditation humor – you sort of had to be there. But the phrase stuck with me. The air does connect all of us in a very physical way. And since the oxygen we breathe comes from the “exhalation” of plants, we are connected through air to all living things everywhere.
I’ve been using the phrase as a little reminder of that connection. Last night I was thinking of someone far away. I just thought to myself “breathing Bob,” and smiled at the funny way of reminding myself that I am always connected to the people I care about.
Likewise, I passed someone on the street this morning from whom I inwardly drew away. I whispered to myself “breathing Bob,” and experienced my basic living connection to this other person.
It reminds me of the greeting used in certain cultures. Namaste means “I honor the place in you where, if you are in that place in you and I am in that place in me, there is only one of us.”
Namaste.
During meditation, we had been focusing our awareness on our breath, so someone else suggested that we were breathing in each other’s awareness. And that led a joker in the bunch to blurt out, “We’re breathing Bob!”
I know, it’s a stretch. Meditation humor – you sort of had to be there. But the phrase stuck with me. The air does connect all of us in a very physical way. And since the oxygen we breathe comes from the “exhalation” of plants, we are connected through air to all living things everywhere.
I’ve been using the phrase as a little reminder of that connection. Last night I was thinking of someone far away. I just thought to myself “breathing Bob,” and smiled at the funny way of reminding myself that I am always connected to the people I care about.
Likewise, I passed someone on the street this morning from whom I inwardly drew away. I whispered to myself “breathing Bob,” and experienced my basic living connection to this other person.
It reminds me of the greeting used in certain cultures. Namaste means “I honor the place in you where, if you are in that place in you and I am in that place in me, there is only one of us.”
Namaste.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
In the Zone
I spent Friday evening and all day Saturday at a mindfulness meditation workshop. The workshop was the first step on the path of Shambhala warrior training. I knew I was going to like it as soon I heard that I could be a “warrior”!
And I did like it. Shambhala is rooted in Tibetan Buddhism, although the focus on mindfulness meditation is compatible with any faith or no faith. I can belong to my Christian church and still be a Shambhala warrior. How cool is that?! (It also says a lot about my church.)
Shambhala is the path of my favorite spiritual writer and teacher, Pema Chodron. If you have read my blog for awhile, then you have run across many quotes and stories that come from her.
I was nervous about going to the workshop. An evening and a full day – that is a lot of meditating. I have been stressed lately, dealing with some family challenges. On a good day, my mediation is more like watching kittens high on catnip than gazing serenely at a peaceful pond. With all the things on my mind, I wondered how I would settle down and be mindfully aware of anything other than my agitation and fatigue.
But it was like a thirsty camel in the desert coming upon a cool, green oasis. The center’s website states, “The vision of Shambhala begins with the understanding that all humans at the very ground of their being have basic goodness and wisdom.” What a gentle, encouraging, loving concept. I sank into the peace and good will of the group, and came home refreshed and inspired, looking forward to continuing the training at the next workshop.
He invites me to lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside the still waters. He restores my soul. Psalm 23:2-3
And I did like it. Shambhala is rooted in Tibetan Buddhism, although the focus on mindfulness meditation is compatible with any faith or no faith. I can belong to my Christian church and still be a Shambhala warrior. How cool is that?! (It also says a lot about my church.)
Shambhala is the path of my favorite spiritual writer and teacher, Pema Chodron. If you have read my blog for awhile, then you have run across many quotes and stories that come from her.
I was nervous about going to the workshop. An evening and a full day – that is a lot of meditating. I have been stressed lately, dealing with some family challenges. On a good day, my mediation is more like watching kittens high on catnip than gazing serenely at a peaceful pond. With all the things on my mind, I wondered how I would settle down and be mindfully aware of anything other than my agitation and fatigue.
But it was like a thirsty camel in the desert coming upon a cool, green oasis. The center’s website states, “The vision of Shambhala begins with the understanding that all humans at the very ground of their being have basic goodness and wisdom.” What a gentle, encouraging, loving concept. I sank into the peace and good will of the group, and came home refreshed and inspired, looking forward to continuing the training at the next workshop.
He invites me to lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside the still waters. He restores my soul. Psalm 23:2-3
Friday, February 18, 2011
The Mask of Happiness
We’re focusing this month on the second step – deciding if you want to be right or happy. We have talked about situations in which asserting our rightness is really about ego, or anger, or fear. In those situations, choosing to step back awakens compassion, and brings inner peace and a sense of well-being. It keeps us connected to the other person in a genuine, loving way.
For example, suppose that your spouse is telling a story and gets some of the peripheral details wrong. Is it better for to correct these mistakes so that the story is accurate, or is it better to let the story continue, to let your spouse enjoy telling it, to let the listeners enjoy hearing it?
That’s an easy one. Choosing to be right in that situation might cause embarrassment or irritation for your spouse, and perhaps discomfort for the listeners. Choosing to be happy allows everyone to enjoy the moment, including you.
But what if you are reluctant to disagree with your spouse because if you do, your spouse is likely to criticize you or to get angry? What if you tell yourself you are choosing to be happy, but you are really making the choice out of resentment or fear or even your own anger? That is not choosing happiness. That is a mask of happiness. It separates us from others and hurts our spirit because it is not true.
When I was a girl, I remember playing a game with a boy at my house. I was winning because I was more skilled at the game. My mother called me aside and told me to let him win because he was a boy. She said he would feel bad if he lost to a girl. I remember thinking that that was a bunch of you know what, and yet I hesitated, unsure how to proceed.
So what does it really mean when we say we want to choose happiness instead of rightness? Maybe it means that we want to be present and mindful of our circumstances, we want to examine our own motives, and we want to choose to act in a way that honors our highest self.
For example, suppose that your spouse is telling a story and gets some of the peripheral details wrong. Is it better for to correct these mistakes so that the story is accurate, or is it better to let the story continue, to let your spouse enjoy telling it, to let the listeners enjoy hearing it?
That’s an easy one. Choosing to be right in that situation might cause embarrassment or irritation for your spouse, and perhaps discomfort for the listeners. Choosing to be happy allows everyone to enjoy the moment, including you.
But what if you are reluctant to disagree with your spouse because if you do, your spouse is likely to criticize you or to get angry? What if you tell yourself you are choosing to be happy, but you are really making the choice out of resentment or fear or even your own anger? That is not choosing happiness. That is a mask of happiness. It separates us from others and hurts our spirit because it is not true.
When I was a girl, I remember playing a game with a boy at my house. I was winning because I was more skilled at the game. My mother called me aside and told me to let him win because he was a boy. She said he would feel bad if he lost to a girl. I remember thinking that that was a bunch of you know what, and yet I hesitated, unsure how to proceed.
So what does it really mean when we say we want to choose happiness instead of rightness? Maybe it means that we want to be present and mindful of our circumstances, we want to examine our own motives, and we want to choose to act in a way that honors our highest self.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Beyond Right and Wrong
We are so conditioned to think about issues in terms of right and wrong. This can lead to unnecessary anxiety. My daughter is always the last one to order in a restaurant. She is simply paralyzed by the fear of making the wrong choice. Instead of thinking that there might be several right choices, that is, choices that she would enjoy, she is convinced that there is one and only one choice that will make her meal a pleasant experience.
For some reason, we are uncomfortable with the possibility of multiple right answers. In an article in O Magazine, Martha Beck calls this being “on the horns of a dual-emma.” It makes our little synapses sizzle and short out. Our world becomes more fluid. We lose our sense of security. It can be terrifying.
I’ve seen this same mind set in the context of law. Because law is often thought of in adversarial terms due to the pervasiveness of litigation in our American society, we think in terms of winners and losers. At the end of litigation, there is technically a winner and a loser. However, when you think of the time and expense (and yes, those lawyer fees), it often seems that both parties have lost.
What is it about being right that is so compelling? Is it fear? Is it ego? Is it greed? How can we stop ourselves before we get locked into a way of thinking that permits only one right answer? That permits only one person to be right?
When I think back to some times when it seemed most imperative for me to be right, I can, with the benefit of hindsight, see fear. The fear was usually hidden behind anger and self-righteousness. My aggressive assertion of my rightness in those situations was a need to control what felt out of control. I mistakenly believed that what was out of control was “out there,” usually in the form of another person. But now I can see with compassion that what was out of control was me.
When I feel that urge now to engage in battle, I try to pause and look more deeply within. It makes me squirm. I feel so powerful when I am thundering with righteous indignation. I feel so vulnerable when I shine light on the scared places within.
I’ve learned from Thich Nhat Hanh to cradle my feelings, especially the feelings that make me uncomfortable. If I can sit with my discomfort, breathe into it (breathe at all for that matter!), I feel the discomfort soften. My body relaxes. My mind clears. I can see the gray areas. I can see the middle way, beyond right and wrong.
For some reason, we are uncomfortable with the possibility of multiple right answers. In an article in O Magazine, Martha Beck calls this being “on the horns of a dual-emma.” It makes our little synapses sizzle and short out. Our world becomes more fluid. We lose our sense of security. It can be terrifying.
I’ve seen this same mind set in the context of law. Because law is often thought of in adversarial terms due to the pervasiveness of litigation in our American society, we think in terms of winners and losers. At the end of litigation, there is technically a winner and a loser. However, when you think of the time and expense (and yes, those lawyer fees), it often seems that both parties have lost.
What is it about being right that is so compelling? Is it fear? Is it ego? Is it greed? How can we stop ourselves before we get locked into a way of thinking that permits only one right answer? That permits only one person to be right?
When I think back to some times when it seemed most imperative for me to be right, I can, with the benefit of hindsight, see fear. The fear was usually hidden behind anger and self-righteousness. My aggressive assertion of my rightness in those situations was a need to control what felt out of control. I mistakenly believed that what was out of control was “out there,” usually in the form of another person. But now I can see with compassion that what was out of control was me.
When I feel that urge now to engage in battle, I try to pause and look more deeply within. It makes me squirm. I feel so powerful when I am thundering with righteous indignation. I feel so vulnerable when I shine light on the scared places within.
I’ve learned from Thich Nhat Hanh to cradle my feelings, especially the feelings that make me uncomfortable. If I can sit with my discomfort, breathe into it (breathe at all for that matter!), I feel the discomfort soften. My body relaxes. My mind clears. I can see the gray areas. I can see the middle way, beyond right and wrong.
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