Long ago, while reading Gulliver’s Travels by Jonathan Swift, I had a flash bulb moment of recognition. I learned what ‘misanthrope’ meant and immediately related to that feeling of not wanting anything to do with other people. Other people were unreliable, unsafe, unpredictable and I often felt a visceral reaction in my body as I wished they would leave me alone. I looked for safety in an isolation that masked itself as introversion. Sound familiar to anyone?
Consistent meditation practice started to give me information that proved that other people were not the problem. At the end of day-long workshops, retreats, or even a short beginner drop-in program at CIMC, I felt a curious openness toward others. They took on a sheen of goodness and I felt admiration and warmth for them. At first reluctant with relational meditation practices such as dyads or group sharings, very quickly I was glad to have connected or to have heard someone’s story or experience. How did this peculiar, radical, unexpected shift come about? I started to suspect that other meditators felt similarly; in fact they often conveyed this softening, this openness with their words, expressions, and the ease of their body language. Through their practice folks were more open to connection, less defended.
There is some vulnerability as I share this because I am now aware that some of how I perceived others in the past – and sometimes in the present – has to do with my own childhood trauma and family dysfunction. Instead of pathologizing or elaborating on that aspect, I’d like to bring a Dhamma lens to how the Buddha’s teachings – hand-in-hand with other modalities I have practiced – have created the possibility for these patterns to shift and transform.
The cultivation of the Brahma Viharas is the bedrock of this path, and in my own practice, it has been a game changer. Learning to love myself, to extend loving kindness, compassionate listening and curiosity to all parts of my inner being has led to incredible freedom. And this has resulted in my seeing others with the eyes of loving kindness and compassion. Softening into acceptance towards them, instead of trying to control, criticize, and judge. Thich Nhat Hahn said that understanding precedes compassion. A key aspect of healing has been making room for and accepting the parts of me that viewed others with suspicion and fear. While I can see that my protector parts served an important function and were essential to surviving some difficult years, I’ve worked to appreciate them and to lessen some of their old burdens. It bears mentioning that in some situations, others can be downright dangerous or harmful, and in those cases, we develop trust in our capacity to act skillfully, with appropriate action.
As a teacher, witnessing and guiding practitioners, I am honored and inspired by those who show up and do the work. I feel a deep, unshakeable, protective love towards every individual I encounter. Regardless of external differences or the content of the exchange, I am buoyed and motivated by the courage that meditators bring to the cushion and to their practice off the cushion.
That oft repeated teaching of ‘no separation’ is true by the way. Scientists who study compassion talk about tapping into the interconnectedness of the human experience, this is what the Dharma leads us to. Not by reading a book or listening to a talk, (although those can certainly help) but by doing the practice itself. Through loving, warm feelings towards ourselves and others; through seeing them as precious, worthy humans doing their human things; through opening to the joys and sorrows of this existence, all becomes possible.