Jenn Peters
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Has meditation helped you to work with difficult emotions? If so, how do you think this happened? Why is this important in the first place? Give an example if one comes to mind.
I do believe that meditation has helped me work with difficult emotions in that it has given me the tools to feel emotions without judging them. If I am sitting with sadness in meditation, I can practice becoming the observer of that sadness, or more often than not, it’s the stress and anxiety I’m witnessing. Meditation has taught me to be curious about what I’m feeling and almost try to view it from the outside.
Sometimes, I sit with my feelings in meditation and try to notice what’s coming up for me – if it’s anxiety, I’ll almost talk to myself in my mind as I observe my thoughts. Something like: “Okay, so you’re anxious. That’s interesting. What’s that all about or where is that coming from?” and then sometimes I can be like, “Okay, well you’re sad, that’s okay, let’s just do that then.” This can often diffuse pain for me in a way – almost like it gives me a chance to not take my emotions so seriously. Like, okay, you feel sad – so what – tomorrow you’ll feel happy or maybe not. Whatever. I know this sounds flippant and reductive, but it’s just how my brain works.
Of course, I acknowledge that this is different from our usual sitting breath-centred meditation, where we return back to our breath after we notice a distracting thought or get caught up in it. With this experience, I almost try to dig deeper into that judgment around that emotion and investigate it to get to know it better. It remains to be seen if this is beneficial to me long term or makes anything better but it can help me not get so caught up in the emotion and the despair around having it. Hope this makes some bit of sense, and thanks for reading 🙂
How do I reconcile letting go of self as a path to happiness? Wow, that’s such a huge question, but therein lies the answer—letting go of self is the true path to happiness. It’s not easy to do, but it makes sense.
I really loved this quote from Chogyam Trungpa in the readings: “The basic definition of ego is holding on to one’s existence—and paramita practices are techniques that allow you to not grasp onto or propagate the notion of me-ness or ‘I am.'” Experiencing egolessness is a process of letting go. But you do not regard the ego as an enemy or obstacle; you regard it as a Brussels sprout that you cook and eat.”
So what does this mean? Not everyone loves Brussels sprouts, right? Chogyam Trungpa could have said chocolate or ice cream or something. But he chose Brussels sprouts for a reason. But Brussels sprouts are not easy to eat for everyone. But we eat them and we “absorb” the brussels sprout of ego for the betterment of everyone. We eat it because they’re good for us too.
I think we can get glimpses of doing this – but as soon as we notice, we begin to attach. I will give you an example of this from my own life. I currently teach chair yoga to a group of elders in a long term care facility for addictions and mental health. When I there, I feel fully engaged and absorbed in being present with this group of older people.
I see them all as individuals, they all have their individual quirks and personalities and things they can and cannot do physically, and they’ve all given me insights into their personalities and history in some way. I love them. When I am with them and fully absorbed at the moment and just being present for them, I lose my “self” somewhat – I am just there for them, I want to be of full benefit to them and listen to them – (they always want to talk).
When I leave, I feel great. I feel that we had a great time together, and I feel this warm feeling of love and compassion for them. But then, embarrassingly, I notice that a small part of me feels good about myself for being there for them – for offering them this experience in their day – which they seemed to enjoy. I feel happy that I did this for them, not just for them, but for me too. I
And in here, I catch my ego rearing its ugly head again and the beauty of the experience is gone. Or is it? The two things co-exist, I guess – self and no-self, “me-ness” as Chogyam Trungpa calls it and “no-me” – we’re victims of our own human consciousness and the tether or our ego. I suppose noticing this is a good thing and a part of this “path to happiness.”
Wow, Helene! I never thought of the “Je Me Souviens” plates in this way – that is going to make me always see them in a different way now and I’ll always think of Thich Naht Hanh now, whenever I see one. Thank you so much. And your notes about driving – so true! Love it.
Oh wow, Kate—that is so powerful. I really felt the emotion in this post. As Canadians, we are sort of witnessing this upheaval from the backseat, but whatever happens in November affects us, too. My heart goes out to you—this is such a tumultuous and painful time around the world. But I really loved your exposition of how you were able to put your own personal “self” to the side to really be there for your friend. I also loved your depiction of this juxtaposition of what you were doing “before” this convo and what it propelled you into. That book sounds great too – defo one for to add to my TBR pile!
Thank you for sharing this painful experience. I learned so much from what you’ve said here. I was really touched by how you talked about holding grief and delight at the same and what that looked like. That’s a really complicated thing, isn’t it – we’re kind of told that we can’t have delight while we have a profoundly painful experience, or if someone else that we care about is experiencing pain, and with that can bring guilt and all sorts of other things. But of course, we very often have multiple feelings at the same time, and I think that’s very human. You began to know “resilience in your bones” – that’s so beautiful. Thanks again 🙂
TW: Suicide, domestic abuse
Wow – this thread/question is so powerful. It’s so beautiful how we can all share our painful experiences, witness each other, and hold space for one another here. This exercise is an exercise in compassion itself! Without a doubt, we all suffer as part of the human experience. To add to the shares, I can talk about a life experience that was very painful but from which I could learn something. When I was 16, my stepdad died by suicide. My upbringing with him was a painful and sometimes dangerous experience, fraught with domestic abuse, addiction, and a lot of other stuff, but when he died, it was a horribly traumatic experience that my 16-year-old brain couldn’t really comprehend at the time, for good reason.
Over the course of my young adulthood, I experienced the usual gamut of emotions one goes through in these kinds of experiences: anger, denial, and resentment. However, as I grew older, I finally came to a place of compassion, which is where I am now.
I was able to learn something so deep from his life once I was old enough to see him as a “regular human” with trauma, a childhood experience of his own, thoughts, feelings, and psychological difficulties. I don’t know what age it is that we typically come to the realization that our parents are actually just normal humans, but when that eureka moment happened to me, my heart was full for him. Of course, it was full of sadness for the life he wasn’t able to have and for all the things we all experienced during his life, but mostly, I see him with warm compassion in my mind.
Especially now, as I look back from an age that he never saw, realizing that he was younger than I am now when he died, I feel I have a much better understanding of his experience. I think this upbringing and experience have taught me to remember that with someone, we get all their past experiences, good and bad, as well as their traumas, and their actions are a reflection of this. It’s not my fault for not knowing this yet as a 16-year-old, and I hold compassion for her, too.
To a certain extent, we are who we are because of what we’ve lived. We can leave the past behind, heal from trauma, and everything else, but pieces of us are going to be imprinted with our experiences, and we’re all just bumping around into each other with all our garbage in a messy world. Understanding this helps me have compassion for others. That is something that is very beautiful and deep, and it can be painful but also sublime. Resting in this awareness has brought me comfort.
Thank you so much for sharing this experience, Karen. Wow, what a place, hey? Observing your own extremes – so wise, yet so difficult in the moment. I really liked what you said about observing this with compassion.
I liked your perspective here, Allison, and this idea that even though we may not keep “everything” about a particular tradition with us, there is wisdom in so many teachings that we can still appreciate. I also like this idea to try not to make requests around being anyone else other than you are so as to offer yourself some compassion. I could use a bit of this myself!
Betsy – I love this practice of touching each shoulder to acknowledge these lineages – it really brings to mind that they are right there with you, guiding you, hey? I may just have to try this!
When I think about my own personal lineage and who I might call on during my practice, I think of it sort of as circles that go outside of me from grosser to subtle. In my inner circle of lineage, I have my mother, who is still alive, and my grandmother, who isn’t, and their wisdom, and my grandmother’s voice I can always hear in my head since her passing, but even before her, the women that came before her that I never met, and their wisdom which I carry with me. Familial lineage.
In my Buddhist practice, I have living teachers like Susan, Pema, and others who influenced me with their teachings before I even considered what lineage or practice they might embody—it was all just “Buddhism” for me at the beginning, but how interesting that I was drawn to certain lineages and other teachers just didn’t “stick” in the same way. Buddhist Living traditions lineage.
After that ring of influence around the central “me,” there are their teachers and lineage, people like Tulku Thondup, who I am still learning about, and Chogyam Trungpa, who I am more familiar with, and many others, back and back for thousands of years. Buddhist ancestral linage.
Then, because of my other adjacent spiritual practices of yoga and kung fu, I have those lineages to consider, as well, and important teachers to recognize.
I wonder if this makes sense to anyone but me, but in terms of how this all can support me in my personal practice, I think it’s nice to consider all these people that make up this lineage because it puts little “me” and my supposed “big” problems in perspective, for one. I am a part of something bigger than me, and there is a connection there to something larger in the universe that also involves a little bit of “magic,” for lack of a better word. These practices supported so many that came before me, and more importantly, they endured, so there must be something to ’em, right? Suddenly my problems aren’t such a big deal!
Secondly, from a position where I am always conscious of cultural appropriation and toxic wellness, it’s important for me to recognize in my practice that these traditions were carried by people from a culture not my own and from a land not my own, and so it’s my wish to honour my privilege that through their efforts, I am able to reap their benefits today.
Ahh, despite my hopeful comment above, now it’s looking like my post for week 2 didn’t go through after all, as I can’t find it here anymore. Please reach out to me Leanna or Susan if you didn’t receive it and I’ll try to re-create it in some form 😀
So funny, Christine – when I wrote out my long response to this week’s and hit submit, my computer decided to lose internet and I just got a blank page. I felt myself get angry and frustrated as I kept reloading the page and kept getting nothing, assuming I lost all my writing. Then, eventually, it started working again, and my entry had submitted after all. I feel like there’s a lesson in there somewhere hah!
I found your writing really powerful, Karen – thank you for sharing. Tolle really sums it up, doesn’t he: “Leave the situation, change the situation, or accept it – all else is madness.”
Oooh, Kate, this was so nice! I never thought to look up the definition of devotion, that makes so much sense. I also loved that phrase, “pouring water into water.” So profound, it made me think of “absorption” – devotion being like “absorption into the teachings” rather than like, just taking something on to memorize it or whatever. Not sure if I’m being clear! Your last three lines make me want to write them down so I can read them over and over again. So beautiful 🙂
