Some years ago, I came upon research that looked at a large sample of films. It found that the most frequent phrase used was, “Let’s get out of here.” I roared with laughter, realizing that this applied to our meditation practice — my own and that of the yogis I was guiding with the Buddha’s beautiful teaching, The Four Noble Truths. This was especially true regarding the first Noble Truth: There is suffering (dukkha) and it is to be recognized, investigated and understood. Not that life IS suffering, but that suffering is part of life. My VERY strong emphasis is on the direct, non-judgmental, intimate awareness of dukkha whenever it arises.
Recently, a rich and unanticipated learning experience took place in a practice group composed of experienced yogis who are quite familiar with my “unrelenting encouragement” to observe dukkha happening right here and now. To be with what is as it unfolds, perhaps revealing its cause: attachment, the second Noble Truth. We practiced sitting and standing meditation, and the group settled down into a peaceful collective energy. The hall was silent. Then, suddenly the stillness was shattered by the loud sound and chilly breeze of the air conditioner going on. Such unexpected workings of the AC (in March!), upsetting for many people, was a wonderful gift of Dharma teaching for me.
Before the AC episode, I had shared the “Let’s get out of here.” research finding and talked about how it applied to our reluctance to bring non-reactive awareness to the energy of dukkha. One of the yogis managed to turn the AC off, but strong reactions, some angry, followed. Angry at who? CIMC, for a stupidly designed system, neglecting to attend to the equipment, bringing very unpleasant feelings of coldness, spoiling mental calmness, etc. I laughed and tried to help people see that the film research applied to them. Granted the body was cold, but was it necessary for the mind to be so upset as well? I attempted again and again to bring them back to the present moment. But this was no match for the power of the conditioned mind and its many stories ABOUT the event.
Could humor help? You walk into a barber shop. There is a waiting room with magazines, an elevated chair and a person in a gown holding scissors…and you report a toothache. The barber replies “You need a dentist. I just cut hair.” I told the yogis that I am like the barber, encouraging them to bring mindfulness to dukkha is all that I do. Did the group laughter help a bit? Perhaps for some, but the narratives continued to rage on. There were also many reactions to my teaching: “You have the patience of a saint.” “How could you listen to experienced meditators forget the practice?” “You should have cut them off more forcefully.” … and many more.
During the week that followed I reflected on all that had happened. For many years, I thought I was correctly practicing with dukkha when it appeared. Often, I was, but for certain childhood wounds, I was “out of here” too; not with anger but with very nicely phrased and very satisfying explanations, ABOUT dukkha. One of my teachers, J. Krishnamurti helped me see that I was still drawing upon the old conditioned mind to heal the hurt that it had created years ago. Really fresh, direct seeing with discernment — our vipassana practice — was called for instead.
Do I have the patience of a saint? Of course not. I’m just humbled by knowing how very human we all are. I shared all this with the group during the next practice group gathering. I found a wonderful openness to the teaching and enthusiasm to practice, which is most encouraging.
“There are two kinds of suffering; the suffering that leads to more suffering and the suffering that leads to the end of suffering. If you are not willing to face the second kind of suffering, you will surely continue to experience the first.” ~ Ajahn Chah