What arises within you when you hear the word ‘faith?’ Welcoming and making space for all feelings and mental states, tune into the truth of your own experience. Let this be your guide as you continue to read these words.
Many of us come to meditation practice as refugees bruised from the entrenched and dominant structures of institutionalized religion. Anything that smells of dogmatic ideology can create a feeling of claustrophobia and the word ‘faith’ can evoke a sense of tightness. Bring some tenderness if this is true for you, and join me in an exploration of faith devoid of this baggage. In Buddhism, faith (saddha in Pali, the language of the original texts) is also known as trust, confidence, or conviction. Renowned meditation teacher Sharon Salzberg defines faith as something “to place the heart upon. To have faith is to offer one’s heart or give over one’s heart.”
On my first silent residential retreat, as I lay in bed after a long day, Narayan Helen Liebenson’s encouragement to stay close to the intention that brought you here—what she called an “ancient echo”—literally echoed through my being. This glimmering, faint hum wasn’t new to me. It was the same sound that drew me to churches in the middle of the day during my college years in Mumbai. I was not raised in Christianity, yet I sought out those spaces for refuge because in the midst of the cacophony and scorching sun of a busy city, busy mind, and aching heart, they provided an empty, silent, cool, dark place where I could hear and see more clearly. I sensed relief and tasted equanimity. In this way, faith is not new or unfamiliar. People talk about feeling a connection with the vastness in nature, in music, in the benevolence of human relationships.
Scale is helpful in trying to understand faith. It is bigger than the small “me” and much more spacious. It can hold the stumblings of the small self. And when that self is standing on the edge of an abyss or a precipitous cliff, staring into the terror of the great unknown (an everyday occurrence for so many of us on the path), the simple act of trusting in “something” before we leap is what has the potential to save us. This doesn’t absolve us of personal responsibility or mean that we clutch to the false belief that everything will work out exactly as we desire. Instead it is an assurance that no matter what, whatever comes our way, it will be okay, we will be okay.
I like to choose a single word to mark the beginning of each new year, and for 2022, my word is “wonder,” which shares a sense of mystery and awe with faith. Holding this word in mind, I notice and hear iterations of wonder and faith show up in all aspects of my dhamma study and practice, in different teachers’ talks and writings. Faith has not limited itself to just this one doorway, and it feels vulnerable to share with you the unfolding of faith that is currently occurring in my practice, but since it is what is most alive for me now, here we are.
Recently I was assisting on a residential retreat, the first one since Covid. On a snowy evening, during the dharma talk, one of the lead teachers talked about seeing a bobcat outside her cottage window. I was amazed and thrilled, filled with wonder. The next day, the other lead teacher also talked about seeing what presumably was the same bobcat right outside her window. We were all staying at the teacher’s village. What stuck out in my mind? That I had not seen this bobcat. Within moments, my mind decided that the bobcat did not think I was worthy, capable or wise enough. Pangs of envy turned to despair turned to obsession. Thankfully, I had enough faith to sit with these feelings and bring the energy of mindfulness to them. I ignored the habit-mind’s plan of camping out to spot the bobcat, and lightly held on to the wish of seeing this wild creature. The heady mixture of greed, hatred, and delusion dissipated and mudita or joy bounded in for the lead teachers’ good fortune. Bleary-eyed, two days later on a March morning at 5:40 am, flashlight in hand, I opened the door to walk to the main building for the opening sit, and saw something moving. Very slowly it came to a stop a few feet in front of me down the cottage path. The bobcat looked directly at me.
Dwelling independently, not clinging to anything in the world.
Sattipathana Sutta
Let me be clear that the point of this story has nothing to do with my seeing the bobcat and has everything to do with inner liberation. Faith in the teachings and consistent practice created the capacity for me to turn toward the heart caught in the grip of suffering, and make an awake, skillful choice. I got out of my own way and the heart was freed; mudita and wisdom naturally flowed. The bobcat was a profound teacher because in this particular situation it helped me see that what I was seeking was within me and the path to accessing it was through self-love and self-acceptance. It confirmed for me that faith and trust as an antidote to fear and contraction are dynamic and alive, they can grow internally and externally, if we let go of control and fixation on a preferred outcome. What an unexpected rush to see that animal in the flesh; a sweet gift that I certainly cherished and appreciated, “abiding independently, not clinging to anything.”
I fall into the arms of faith, trusting that it will catch me. May it be so for you and for all beings without exception.