A work in progress

I generally give a lot of thought to the topics I post here before sharing those thoughts with the world. Be forewarned, that's not necessarily the case today. I'm here in rawness but I hope it's something that might make you think as you read, and that will help cement my own thoughts a bit more.

First of all, if you have ever faced a long setback in your meditation practice, if you have feared that perhaps the ability to meditate and look inwards and see the truth has disappeared and left you floundering, I am here to say, don't give up!  If it's something you care about deeply, desire strongly even while unable to make it happen, don't give up! I've recently begun meditating again after over 3 years of frustration. I had a block -- a bad block. I know where and when it happened, could pinpoint it to the day and hour. I know what seems to have caused it, but I don't know why it put a stop to my interest in and ability to meditate. I just know it did. I tried and tried, to no avail. But now, finally, that block seems to be gone. I'm creeping back into sitting on the cushion for long periods of time. Everything I knew is coming back. Slowly. So please, don't give up!

But here's what I sat down to say today, and I'm going to probably say it wrong. Please forgive me for that, in advance.  Looking inside again, at least in the Buddhist way of doing so, really wakes up the sensitivities to what's going on in one's own mind and how one relates to other people. It's so easy to blame other people for perceived faults and that's something I'm guilty of and have been guilty of for undoubtedly my entire life. But I'm just concerned with today, the present. The past is beyond change and the future is beyond control, so I'm looking at what's happening in my mind in the present. As I've often found when I do that, what I see isn't pretty.

Oh, for the most part I'm content enough with what is there. I've spent a lot of intense years in this practice looking honestly at the workings of this mind and making diligent effort to eradicate the unwholesome aspects and encourage the wholesome, positive aspects. I've made a lot of progress and I'm grateful for that. But what I've found over and over across the span of those years is that there are always new issues, new nuances that rise to the surface because our minds never stop coming up with thoughts. What I've learned is that if we want to walk seriously along this path we have to understand the concept of letting most of those thoughts go as quickly as they arise, because they are just random thoughts, products of the mind and not who we are deep down inside. If negative issues from your past continue to come to mind, letting go is essential. The more attention we pay to these kinds of thoughts, the more we'll see of them. Ignoring them works best.  At other times, though, we have to look more deeply. We have to be honest with ourselves, whether we like what we see or not. Mostly in cases like this, we won't like what we see at all, but that's how we grow, how we take another step down the path.

Without going into detail I'll just say that when we find ourselves looking at another person's perceived personality flaws, even if you've had this viewpoint for years, it doesn't hurt to look inside to see if we are not also 'guilty' of whatever it is that we see in that other person that we don't like. Suffice it to say that I've done that over the past few days and let me tell you, it's something of a shock to realize that yes, I am guilty of the same thing (although, I believe, to a lesser degree in this instance).

Such honesty is not easy, it's not fun. We'd rather look at our positive traits, look at how we want to perceive ourselves, how our egos want to perceive ourselves. But it's the negative (unwholesome) traits that trip us up in life and if we really want to grow, we need to look at them in all their ugliness, with all honesty, and then make the very necessary effort to change that thing within our own heart-mind. I've found that the hardest thing is opening ourselves to seeing the ugliness. Once seen, it's hard to un-see. At that point change -- deep and lasting change -- comes fairly easily. The ego takes a blow, yes, but it recovers. And once the ugliness is seen and replaced with something wholesome (perhaps compassion for the other person's suffering as well as compassion for your own suffering), I find that a dark spot I never knew existed ends up being replaced by lightness and yes, even a happier outlook on life in general. Permanently. A burden is lifted, but you have to see and experience the ugliness before that can happen. So don't be afraid to look at what's there, to ask questions such as 'am I guilty of the same thing I'm blaming the other person for doing'. Be honest. Be brutal. Be happier in the end.

Following right on the heels of that insight was yet another that concerns how I relate (or don't relate) to my neighbors in this building, this community, and indeed that spreads quickly to how I relate (or don't relate) to everyone I meet in this life. This one is still forming, still swirling around in the cesspool. But as unclear and dim as it is, I can clearly see that it's important. That this is yet another thing I have to face with truth and honesty and full understanding and that if I succeed in breaking through into the full truth of this one, something major is going to follow. I don't think it's going to be pretty and it certainly won't be fun, but the results should be worth the effort. I'll probably write more about this as it coalesces into something less subtle, more substantial.

The first insight, about being guilty of what I blame others for doing,  is still a work in process for me but I can see the picture clearly, know what has to be done, and know that it can be done. I've asked the question and seen the answer, have even accepted the answer as the truth. The healing will come.

The second is new territory, though I've faced many other 'new territories' in the past and know that they take longer to come together into something that can be worked with. I also know that it will come together and that it can be worked with. Right now, that's enough. Sea changes of this kind are bigger and deeper and cannot be rushed. There is much swirling around in this heart-mind today, and that's a good thing.

Believe nothing

Many westerners seem to lump Buddhism in with other 'religions' and then reject it out of hand because of presumed dogma. I find frustration with this approach, because in conversations I find these people to be unwilling or unable to look at the subject in any way other than what they already believe. I'm hardly a spokesperson to say what Buddhism is, but one thing I can say unequivocally is that whatever it is, it's not dogma, or blind belief.

One of the first things I learned, in my first ever meditation retreat where I heard my first Buddhist teachings (a 10-day Goenka retreat many years ago), was that we should not accept the teachings blindly, that they were intended to be used experientially. They only asked that we try it with an open mind and see for ourselves whether or not the teachings and practice were beneficial to us.

Many years later when I lived in Georgia and attended a monthly half-day retreat at someone's home for about 3 years, the host always ended the retreat with the above words (from the book Beginning to See, by Sujata), which always stuck with me because of their beauty as much as because of their message. But the message is the basis of what I follow and what we are asked to follow, and the explanation far better than any words I could put together.

For most of us who approach our Buddhist practice with this philosophy, we find that the path indeed leads to good and happiness for all creatures, including ourselves first and foremost. There is no 'idol worship' involved. I've been accused of that, among other things, from a preconceived bias of another person. For most of us westerners who practice Buddhism, the draw is Buddhist psychology, which simply teaches us how to train our own mind for our own benefit, which ripples out to benefit others we encounter. It's not a religious practice.

For me, this simple bit of philosophy from the renowned Thai monk Ajahn Chah, says it all:

 The heart of the path is so simple. No need for long explanations. Give up clinging to love and hate, just rest with things as they are.

We learn to let go of unwholesome mental states such as anger, hatred, greed, attachment and judgment. We replace these with more wholesome mental states such as metta (loving-kindness), compassion, generosity, acceptance and goodwill. None of it happens overnight -- you can't simply decide to never be angry again, for example, and have that come to fruition. For most of us, it's a continual process, based in mindfulness and awareness (a relaxed, open state in which we can observe our thoughts, feelings, and behavior as they arise, without being overtaken by them), that releases the anger or other unwholesome state bit by bit until one day one becomes aware that yes, anger is gone! It comes from deep inside, not from a surface thought, and it's permanent. And it certainly does not come from believing that if we accept the principle as a dogma, the Buddha will then grant our wishes, or that some rite or ritual will be our salvation. WE are our salvation. The Buddha only taught the steps that lead us there. WE have to do the actual work to arrive at the destination, the goal, which is simply a state called true happiness.

You have to do your own work;

Enlightened Ones will only show the way.

Those who practice meditation

will free themselves from the chains of death.

Dhammapada 20.276

 
As opposed to situational happiness, which comes from circumstances in our life that bring joy for a short while, true happiness comes from releasing unwholesome states, from replacing them with wholesome states. And until you try it for yourself, you'll just have to take my word (and the word of thousands of others who've tried it) that true happiness is far, far better than any situational happiness could ever be because it's steady and lasting and always with us. We don't need outside influences to bring happiness, we only need what's inside ourselves.

As to the subject of whether or not Buddhism is a religion, I leave that to more learned folks than I. From my experience and observation, and from my earliest teaching (at the above-referenced Goenka retreat), it was impressed upon me that the teachings were non-denominational and were appropriate and non-conflicting for people from any or no religious background. It's not at all unusual to see a Catholic nun, for example, at these retreats. There was one at my first retreat. The Church does not see the teachings as conflicting with their own teachings.

A few years ago at a retreat at the Bhavana Society in West Virginia, Bhante Gunaratana was speaking in the meditation hall and brought up the question of whether Buddhism is or is not a religion. He (a Sri Lankan by birth) said that it is indeed a religion, an old and respected religion, but he also acknowledged that most westerners don't practice it as such. A friend of mine, Bhante Cintita Dinsmore of the Sitagu monastery in Austin, TX is a western monk who has written extensively on the subject from a western viewpoint. He wrote of what he called 'folk Buddhism', which came about as the Buddha's basic teachings traveled slowly from India into the various countries and cultures of southeast Asia. Here, he said, the teachings were blended with the already-existing religious cultures and became part of those religious cultures. If you are interested in his writings, visit his blog Through the Looking Glass.

A student of Buddhism will readily see that there are still differences between Burmese Buddhism, Thai Buddhism, the Buddhism of Laos and Vietnam and Sri Lanka, Malaysia and Indonesia and others, all home to Theravada Buddhism practices.  Most of southeast Asia practices Theravada Buddhism, as I do. Zen and Tibetan Buddhism have evolved into quite different and thus separate divisions of Buddhism, no longer under the Theravada umbrella. But as different as they may be, all of these follow the same core psychology and teachings of the Buddha. It's only the expression of these teachings that may vary from place to place. The Buddha himself said that he was not a god and that he was not to be worshiped. All he asked was that people follow the path to true happiness that he learned in his years of meditation and finally, his enlightenment. Meditation and a search for these things had been long-practiced in India even 2500 years ago, but he brought something new and profound to the picture and that's what made him The Buddha, as opposed to other buddha's or wise men who had come before him.

But, don't believe me, either. Try it for yourself, with an open mind and a willingness to trust that 2500 years and thousands of people who have benefited can't be all wrong. This much is required initially. A closed mind with immovable pre-conceived ideas will never budge. Give it time. Learn from people who know (don't make it up for yourself). If indeed you find that the path works, then and only then should you follow it, like the moon in the path of the stars.

Silence

That's what these last nine days have been about, and it was beautiful.

This was nothing like a group retreat, where there is always talking of some kind, where there are always sounds of people moving about, and where there are always people around, period. I had none of that. I had total silence, total stillness -- and that total outer silence and outer stillness led to total inner silence and inner stillness that was a thing of beauty to experience. The only sounds -- outside of the background sounds of the refrigerator or dehumidifier humming, or a fan spinning, or cars and neighbors -- came from the soothing voice and exquisite wisdom of Bhante Gunaratana, three times each and every day.

I made a last-minute decision to use his jhana CD, which I've had for a couple of years, instead of online retreat talks from Sister Susila, and that was a good decision indeed. Essentially, while the discussion and training was for jhana, it was a metta (loving friendliness, or loving kindness) retreat, as he teaches a method of attaining jhana through metta. This -- the metta -- was what influenced me the most. Jhana became secondary. One entire guided meditation was centered on relaxing the body and mind -- so peaceful that after the 30 minutes were over I continued to sit and continue relaxing both body and mind for the rest of the two hours.

All that metta, and all that inner silence eventually pointed to a place inside me where a great big knot of resentment lived. And friends, that resentment was all aimed at myself! Once I saw it, I also clearly saw the source: 70 years accumulation of blame, guilt, remorse, regret for everything I've ever done or said -- and there have been thousands of them -- that I later regretted in one way or another. Once again, I clearly saw the suffering this has caused me over a lifetime. 

The antidote is metta -- to myself and to others, along with compassion for myself and others. If we hold others in metta and compassion, we cannot say or do things we will regret.

And, as Bhante G said in one of his dhamma talks, the way we treat ourselves is most likely the way we will treat others. I've felt a lot of resentment towards other people from time to time. In fact, it's been really easy for some otherwise innocent person to pull that resentment out of me. Now that I'm aware of it, I can stop that. I managed to let go of a lot of that resident self-resentment and replace it with resident self-love and compassion. It will be an ongoing effort to rid myself of all of it.

This was an extraordinary experience for me, and I plan to do one of these each month (although without an electronic teacher, to keep the temptations of the internet away). Clearly, I would make a good hermit! That cave in the Himalayas is sounding better all the time. Too bad it's too cold and too far away. The 'cave' I'm in works just fine.

I realize this is something that many people could not do -- jobs, family and such do not offer the time and silent place for such things in the home. But if you ever have the chance to do it at home or in a remote cabin or even a tent -- do it! You won't be sorry.

Cosmic explosions of the mind

Springtime at Southern Dharma, a few days ago

This is one of those times where I literally don't know where to begin. There is so much I want to say, but where to begin? It doesn't help that my mind is still reeling a bit from having attended two intense retreats with a week-long break between the two. In all honesty, I can't say that I had fully assimilated the first one before it was time to turn around and drive back to Southern Dharma. And I certainly haven't assimilated either at this point -- only a  couple of days after leaving Southern Dharma the second time. When the mind is so fully affected, it feels as if it's almost had a little cosmic explosion and the pieces are settling down again in a different pattern. I'm sure a neurologist could explain it, but that little description is the best I can do.

I can, however, say one thing with full certainty: I am even more fully drawn to living in a monastic setting where I can meditate and learn. The only question now is, which one?  And that answer will need to wait for a couple of months, until I've visited the two remaining locations, and explored options at each.

Ayya Sobhana on the land at Aranya Bodhi

I also know with the deepest part of my heart that I am truly blessed to know these two extraordinary women, to have them as teachers and even as friends.  The two couldn't be more different -- Ayya Sobhana is as American as the proverbial apple pie, outgoing and no-nonsense but kind and patient and certainly well-trained by Bhante Gunaratana at the Bhavana Society. She is filled with wisdom, an excellent teacher with a wonderful sense of humor. Sayalay Susila, on the other hand, is Asian through-and-through. More reserved, quieter, very much an inner person whose years of deep meditation in a Burmese forest monastery under the training of Pa Auk Sayadaw are reflected in her wisdom, her demeanor and bearing. Her knowledge of the Abhidhamma and higher absorptions seems limitless. She is a truly gifted teacher.

Sayalay Susila at Bhavana, August 2011

Between these two retreats and teachers, many of the questions I've posed in previous posts here have been answered. That's no doubt why my mind feels slightly discombobulated. It really has been tossed around and reassembled.

When I mentioned my realization of dissatisfaction and that I had begun accepting and being content with whatever happens (saying 'yes') to Sister Susila, she said that was falling away of ego -- something very much to be desired in Buddhism. It certainly continues to feel good. Much of the time we spent together was spent in catching up, more than discussing the current retreat, which was fine. I really didn't have any questions -- I just needed the time and perhaps her presence to let the mind settle down and attain concentration, which it did. I just wanted to talk to her, ask questions unrelated to the retreat. There was not enough time, of course, but hours and days would not have been enough time. I am overjoyed with the amount of time I did have, and overjoyed that I am able to continue to work with her, help her with transcriptions and editing, and am able to ask her a question anytime there is something I feel is important enough to bother her. She will always answer, although I rarely ask.

From a practice standpoint, I gained deeply from both retreats. However, there were more 'breakthroughs' at the one taught by Ayya Sobhana, the subject of which was handling emotions the Buddha's way. Through her teaching I finally, finally found that spot deep inside where the lack of love and caring for myself dwelt, and the door opened, the answer revealed with a big rush of love and acceptance.  On another evening in deep concentration of an unusual sort my entire body 'disappeared'. I've had several occasions over the past 2 or more years where the inside of the body changed into something entirely different. The first time it was masses of tiny bubbles, moving around and popping. The next two times were last fall at Goenka, with different manifestations. In all three of these cases, I still 'saw' the shape of the body, the form, the skin. Only the inside disappeared. On this recent occasion, however, it all disappeared. Kind of faded away bit by random bit until nothing was left. This sounds strange if you  haven't experienced it, but as Sister Susila has said, the concentrated mind does some very strange things and these experiences are not unusual for those who practice concentration. She wanted to know exactly what I was practicing when that happened, because it was truly relevant.

The third big event to happen at Ayya Sobhana's retreat was the arising of compassion. All at once, in a huge rush, at the moment she told us about the bombing in Boston. I recognized it in the moment for what it was, knowing fully that it was more profound than mere reaction to the news. It has lasted, and grown, and is clearly a double-edged sword. When I saw others at the last retreat through the eyes of compassion, at times I could feel their suffering, and feel it deeply. That really changed how I regarded these people, and made me wonder if I could even handle feeling that much suffering, if I even wanted to feel the suffering of others so deeply. I don't think I have much choice in that matter, so it simply has to be accepted.

Two different teachers. Two different retreat subjects. Mind-boggling results for me in both cases.

The Other 1%: Make a Difference

Lotus window at Southern Dharma

Although the retreat at Southern Dharma from which I just returned was likely the best and most personally productive I've ever attended, and while I made many great personal gains in insight and clarity during those 5 days, that's all been somewhat overshadowed by the turbulent issues and events of the past week.

Ayya Sobhana's wisdom is far-reaching, beyond Buddhism and yet connected in that Buddhism teaches peace, non-anger, non-killing and similar moral values that are an integral part of the practice. During her Dhamma talk one evening -- I think this was the night before she broke the news to us about the bombs in Boston, but after she knew it had happened -- she talked about many things including some studies that indicate what percentage of any size group is enough to effect a change in the entire group. That she is able to rattle off these studies and statistics from the top of her head amazed all of us, and she did so seemingly every day.

I can't begin to quote the statistics, or who did the study, or anything else, but what did stick in my head was that a mere 1% of people who inhabit this planet is enough to make a change. Enough to sway away from anger and towards peace. Enough to stop the proliferation of war and violence. Enough to save the planet from environmental destruction, from disease destruction, from war destruction. Only one percent!

Are you part of that one percent? I like to think I am -- all Buddhists are, because all Buddhists practice peace, compassion, non-violence, non-greed, care for the earth and the beings (all living beings, not just humans) who inhabit it. Individually, we are just one voice. Together, we can make up that one percent and maybe grow it beyond one percent.

I'm not talking only to and about Buddhists here. I am well aware that there are many caring, peace-loving, non-violent people in this world who are not Buddhists. I know many personally. This is not a faith-based issue, or a red/blue state political issue. It's not only an American issue. It's a human issue. An earth issue. What kind of world do you want your kids or grandkids to inherit? Are you willing to sit by and watch anger, aggression and fear from far corners of the earth (including right here in Washington DC) lead to nuclear annihilation? Is that what you want for your kids and grandkids? It has to stop. And people who work from a place of love, rather than a place of fear and hate, will be the ones to stop it. Hatred and anger will never work. Hatred engenders more hatred. Love and acceptance engenders more love and acceptance.

Practice peace. Practice non-violence. Step away from greed. Make taking care of our earth's ecosystem part of your life. Give it some importance. Support groups who do all these things. It doesn't take much time or money -- it just takes an intention to make a difference. Practice compassion, as in these words Ayya Sobhana used to lead us in meditation after telling us about Boston. I've shortened it a bit to merely include all beings in one paragraph. She led us in far more detail, but this is really all you need to know. Are you willing to be part of this one percent?

May all beings be freed from anger

May all beings be freed from hatred

May all beings be freed from fear

May all beings take care of themselves, happily

or, another chant she taught us and used daily at lunch:

May the suffering be free from suffering

May the fear-struck be fear from fear

May the grieving be free from grief,

So too may all beings be.

Are you kind to yourself? If so, how? If not, why?

This question arose for me yesterday. I don't remember what started it, but at some point early in the day I decided I was going to spend the day being kind to myself and that opened up a really big, ugly hornet's nest that's still swarming.

Some of the ways I've liked to be kind to myself in the past included long, lazy stretches in the steam room at the DAC in Eugene, or a nice massage at a nearby spa (usually preceded by a lazy stretch in the steam room at the DAC). Or a drive to the coast for some good fish & chips (or even some good fish & chips in town, for that matter) and a walk on a beach -- any beach, even if it was cold and wet. Maybe a drive into the mountains for some hiking, or waterfall watching, or just being.

None of that is available to me here, even if I had the money for a massage, for example. Especially on a Sunday. I couldn't think of one thing to do for myself that would be a kindness, a small bit of pampering. That realization brought on the hornet's nest. And saddened me. How could that be? My mind kept trying to draw me in to give this some serious consideration, but I carefully and intentionally avoided the whole idea. No meditation, no time without music or other sound, no time not reading, or doing crosswords, or wasting time on the internet. I just couldn't look at this. Didn't want to look at it.

By this morning I was willing to sit with it for awhile in meditation -- with no answers. Then I walked to the library -- walking is one of the best times for me to think. I began seeing ways that I was hard on myself, unkind to myself. I tried writing down a list of the ways I'm unkind to myself, but only came up with general categories that I know are filled with countless specific examples. I have a list of 'shoulds' and 'shouldn'ts' a mile long. I criticize myself (anytime I'm not perfect, which is all the time), I deny myself foods I like (but I don't want to gain weight, so how do I work with that one?). Is it any wonder I don't know how to be kind to myself?

If we're not kind to ourselves, how can we accept kindness from others? How can we be kind to others? It's like loving yourself, or holding yourself in compassion. It has to come from the inside first -- but for so many of us it's the hardest thing to do. I've found that I don't even know how to do it, especially when I live in isolation in a place that doesn't offer much in the way of opportunities for pampering. It shouldn't (there's that word again!) be all about pampering anyway, should it? There's something deeper -- I just haven't quite dug it out yet.

Open up your awareness. Listen to your own inner voice, self-talk, and listen closely. How often is it filled with shoulds and shouldn'ts, criticism, judging, and other negativities aimed at yourself? If it is -- rebel!  Consciously do the opposite. Indulge the whim. Ignore the criticism. When you hear 'I shouldn't' do this or that -- do it anyway! You want that piece of chocolate? Eat it! Your body doesn't feel like a hard workout today? Let it rest! And above all -- don't feel guilty for any of it. Try this for a week or so, see if you feel any better.

That's what I'm going to do.

What is compassion, and how do we get it

What is compassion? I think we probably all have an intellectual understanding of the word, a dictionary definition along the lines of 'Deep awareness of the suffering of another coupled with the wish to relieve it,' or words to that effect.  Some of us seem to have it, others not so much. I've been one of the latter, and that in itself has been the subject of much meditation, much effort to correct, much concern, much questioning. A good Buddhist is compassionate, after all. Why was this so lacking in me? I had a major breakthrough on this subject this morning in meditation. But before I get into that, I want to explore the subject a little more.

First of all, I've learned over the years that you can't just decide to be compassionate, or beg and plead for compassion to arise. For most of us, it's inherently either there or not there. Some people seem born with great amounts of compassion. Many of these seem to gravitate to helping professions of one kind or another. Others use their innate compassion within their families or friends. I know many people who have great compassion. The rest of us struggle with it (even if we don't know we are doing so).

In my case, I've always had great compassion for animals of all kinds, and have had moments and times of great compassion for the suffering of those humans that I loved. I'm capable of generalized compassion for people around the world suffering from one weather phenomenon or another, or starving because of corrupt governments. But most of the time, I've learned that I was so wrapped up in my own struggles and sufferings that I simply didn't see the struggles and sufferings of others for what they were.

One thing that seems to be consistently taught in Buddhism and other spiritual practices concerns love: without love for oneself, how can one love another? Some teachers that I respect say that compassion springs from love -- including the idea that compassion for oneself springs from love for oneself. That's something else I lack, although I've had some cracks in that armor in recent months. And that probably explains the dearth of compassion for others that I've come to see so clearly. It's also said that compassion ripens over the course of our practice, as wisdom grows and we see things more clearly.

In A Path With Heart, Jack Kornfield talks about an exercise he often uses with groups. First, he asks them to reflect upon death, to imagine themselves at the end of their lives. Then, he asks them to look back over their lives and bring to mind two good deeds that they have done. Most people, he says, come up with small things. He says 'the things that matter most in our lives are not fantastic or grand. They are the moments when we touch one another, when we are there in the most attentive or caring way'.  Some people, he says, find this exercise very difficult. No good deeds come to mind, or if something does arise, it's immediately rejected. We judge ourselves too harshly.  I fall into that category -- although deep in my heart I know I've done many good deeds, I've never had any arise when I try that exercise. I am my worst enemy, my harshest judge, my strongest critic.

A couple of years ago I was listening to Sayalay Susila in an online recording where she talked about how shocked she was when she first began teaching in the West to see how few of us actually love ourselves. She said that in Malaysia, where she's from, and other Asian countries, everybody loves themselves.  In my mind, there must be some crucial sense of self or nurturing that children in those countries receive, compared to the way children are raised in the West.  To help us learn to love ourselves, she offered some metta phrases that I've used often over the last couple of years, although I'm not really sure how much they've helped. Part of the problem has been that I've simply been unable to wish these kind thoughts upon myself. I could mouth the words, or think the words, but there wasn't much sincerity behind them. Still, I keep them taped to my computer monitor and I use them lots in meditation:

May I love myself just as I am,

May I sense my worthiness and well-being,

May I trust this world,

May I hold myself in compassion,

May I meet the suffering and ignorance of others with compassion.

Note how that pesky word 'compassion' sneaks in there. I guess you really can't have one without the other. But how do you get them?

Many years ago I remember reading in one of Jack Kornfield's books a method of doing this. He suggested that you close your eyes and imagine that your adult self is holding your child self in a deep, loving embrace. I could do that -- envision an old photograph of myself as a child and hold that child closely cuddled in my lap, see her suffering, and offer her love and compassion, but it was pretty limited and certainly not lasting. It's much easier to find compassion for a suffering child than it is to have compassion for -- or even see -- the suffering of the adult who 'ought to be able to handle such things'. The sad truth is that most of us can't handle our suffering on our own, other than by ignoring, covering up, self-medicating or perhaps going off into the darkness of depression. And make no mistake, we are all suffering in one way or another. Back to Jack Kornfield's method, I tried it for awhile but eventually stopped because it didn't seem to be making any difference.

Fast forward a lot of years. Since listening to Sayalay's talk I've used  her metta phrases countless times, in and out of meditation. I've used other metta phrases in the same way. Trying hard to find even small glimpses of love for myself, compassion for myself. Last March I attended a metta retreat at Southern Dharma taught by Ayya Sobhana, of Aranya Bodhi in California. I've studied and used metta for years, but this was my first actual metta retreat. Following the usual format she had us choose various people in our lives as examples of the various categories of people we wished to send metta to during the week. A respected teacher or mentor, a good friend, a loved one, a neutral person, and an enemy -- and oneself. What I learned the most during that week -- and it brought great sorrow to me at the time -- was that I could not find love for myself at all, nor could I even choose one person in my life who stood out as a 'loved one'.  It was a sobering week for me and frankly, not a great deal has changed.

There have, however, been small steps. I have great compassion for the nuns at Aranya Bodhi, for example. I see and feel the struggles of their daily lives in rather primitive surroundings (they don't see it as such -- in fact they are thriving and happy), and I have a strong wish to alleviate and ease some of their struggles and suffering (as seen through my eyes). Last fall, driving home after 3 weeks at the Southeast Vipassana Center in south Georgia, my mind and body were suddenly overwhelmed with a glowing sense of well-being, happiness and something new that was unmistakably love for myself. That deep realization, the glow, the wonderment of it all, stayed with me most of the way home. So this is what it feels like!

Eventually the glow wore off, as these moments inevitably do, but there was a crack in the wall. A big one. In recent weeks of meditation I've begun each morning meditation with lots of metta -- aimed mostly at myself in an effort to widen the crack. I began speaking the words aloud, softly, in an effort to better sense their meaning, and to keep my mind from wandering. There have been days when I've felt the walls go down -- but in time they always go back up, although I do believe they become weaker with each incident and will eventually be swept away completely. Part of these recent meditations included something else I recently learned somewhere -- probably from Jack Kornfield again, perhaps others -- which is to envision myself wrapped in love and compassion as I spoke these metta phrases. Not surprisingly, I had some difficulties with that, but there were enough small successes to keep me trying.

This morning I went back to Jack's original advice -- the adult me and the child me. After the years of study and effort, I was indeed able to see and feel the suffering of this small child I was holding. I remembered how she suffered, how unhappy she was, and I was filled with compassion for her suffering, could wrap myself in that compassion, deeply. I stayed with that for awhile, then one of those magical moments/insights we look for in our practice arose and I suddenly saw very clearly the connection that exists between that young, suffering 'me' and all others. I saw that all children suffer in one way or another, just as all children take that suffering with them into their adult lives in one way or another. The deep compassion I was feeling for the child 'me' spread instantly and naturally outward to all others around the world and my mind and body were filled with a wonderful, indeed physical, glow that encompassed peace, equanimity, love, compassion and all sorts of other feelings. I literally felt this glow moving outward to others, wrapping them just as it wrapped myself. It was such an extraordinary moment that I just stayed with it for the balance of the hour, knowing its value and importance, wanting to absorb as much of it as I could.

It wasn't the most important insight/experience I've had in my practice, but it ranks right up there -- especially if it actually makes a noticeable, lasting change. I can only hope that this was powerful enough to shatter barriers forever. Only time will tell, but today feels really, really good.