Monday, October 21, 2013

Taking the "Edge" Off

Despite the fact that I've been sober for 8 months now, I still find other ways to "take the edge off" after a long day at work. In this article I want to a.) define this "edge" and b.) find wholesome ways to "take it off."

a.) defining the edge

I'm sure you know the feeling. Whether it's pressure from your job, or just the build of stress from the hustle and bustle of your daily life, you get that feeling that you need some sort of release. It's an uneasy feeling, one that lets you know that things aren't okay, and it feels uncomfortable just to have it around. Usually, what happens next is it triggers the voice in your head to start scheming for its removal. And this is precisely why so many people are driven to use substances such as alcohol, marijuana, or tobacco to bring them back to their comfort zone. 

b.) taking it off

When we feel uncomfortable, we usually adjust something to fix it. When we are hungry, we might take some food, and when we have pain, we might take a pain-killer. It might even be something as simple as rolling over in bed when we can't fall asleep. While these processes are quite natural and helpful, they tend to happen automatically, and if we're not careful, we lose the ability to monitor and control what we end up doing in order to seek this level of comfort. 

Before we know it, we've become slaves to our comfort-seeking tendencies and almost look for an excuse to need to tip the scales back in our favor, another excuse to indulge. For me, having quit smoking and drinking, I now turn to movies and food. I feel it before I leave work, that uneasy feeling, and I can't wait to get home to some food and turn on my favorite show or put in a movie. Now, this seems like a preferred alternative to going out and getting wasted or even ingesting some mind-altering substance into my body in order to relax, but it does the same thing in terms of rendering my ability to cope with myself useless. 

On occasion, when I've noticed this happening and feel strong, I intuitively know what to do: slow down, and take a deep breath in. Just allowing myself to "catch up" to the moment, to face this uneasy feeling in its entirety, actually makes the feeling lessen. What seems to multiply the feeling of uneasiness is the mind's sense of urgency to escape from it, so by turning to face it, we empower ourselves to handle the situation without the use of external stimuli. Even if we are going to come home, eat some food, and sit down to watch something, can we at least do it with a little bit of poise and mindfulness, instead of feeling like we are racing against our minds?

In addition to slowing down and taking a deep breath in, we can use meditation and yoga to get in touch with ourselves and see the truth of the situation we are in. The truth is, it's just a passing feeling, and it doesn't represent who or what we really are. It's almost like we think there is something wrong with us, and so we run away from ourselves, but if we see the truth of the emptiness of such states, we can sort of laugh at them and treat them as a leaf blowing in the wind. There is nothing here that can harm us, only this compulsion to hide from the way we are feeling. Instead of being scared to feel something uncomfortable, we should be scared to go unconscious. Consciousness is perhaps the greatest tool we have been given, so let's not waste it. If what you are conscious of is unpleasant, simply acknowledge it as so and remind yourself that "this too will pass." Then wrap yourself in a warm blanket of compassionate understanding and ride the storm out, remembering that clear skies are on the other side. 

Thursday, October 17, 2013

A Forest Full of Dhamma Friends

I can't even tell you how happy I am to be here, at Wat Baan Taad Forest Monastery in Udon Thani, Northeastern Thailand. I've been looking for a place like this, a place to come to be with myself and practice the Dhamma. It's not that I'm happy in the sense that I'm elated, but a more profound sense of connecting with my purpose. The late Abbot, the Venerable Luang Ta Maha Bua, was arguably Thailand's greatest monk of the 20th century. Having died just a few short years ago, I feel like his presence is still here, and the monks here (most of them) are diligently following his teachings.

My walking meditation path.
With virtually no schedule, other than an 8am meal and 30 minutes of sweeping at 3pm, the whole day is left to the meditator to practice at their own pace. There aren't many rules here. Talking is permitted, as is reading, writing, and listening to recorded Dhamma talks, if you have the electronics to do so. You don't even have to wake up at a certain hour, what freedom!

You may think it's so lax that I've come here just to lounge around and eat free food. The truth is, I've been so inspired that I've done nothing but practice or read Dhamma books the entire time. For the time being, I've given up the luxuries of the modern world, as I sit on the hardwood floor and write this by candlelight. No phone, no internet, no electricity, just the animals, the Dhamma friends of the forest, to keep me company, and there are plenty of them! Chickens and peacocks are everywhere, and the trees are full of white squirrels that jump from limb to limb. Last night, I had to stop for a turtle to cross my walking-meditation path, which was also lit by candles. I'm getting used to creatures stirring in the bushes, so I'm not as jumpy as I was when I first got here. Back and forth I pace, contemplating the ever-passing moment.

White rabbits, snakes, giant lizards five-feet long, frogs that almost glow in the dark, spiders the size of your palm, and miniature deer, about the size of a wiener dog, also call this place home. I've never seen a forest so abundant with wildlife! I guess people aren't the only ones privy to the greatness of Maha Bua.

I'm so full of the Dhamma right now that I didn't bother taking the one meal of the day today, and I'm not the least bit hungry (I actually ended up skipping the next day's meal as well). I've got 3 full water bottles, a stack of candles, Dhamma books, and mosquito coils, and am determined to use my time here wisely. As I continue to dive into Maha Bua's teachings, and put them into practice, I feel in my heart that there is enough here to discover the true nature of the mind. The citta, what Maha Bua calls
"the essential knowing-nature of the mind," is never born and never dies, it is the deathless.

He emphasizes the use of Samadhi, or a concentrated state of one-pointedness of mind, to develop wisdom and eventually find peace. I've largely neglected developing samadhi in my practice, and have spent most of my time trying to use wisdom directly to perceive of the truth of the passing moment. While this has been effective, to some extent, as Maha Bua puts it, the practice becomes "pachy" if you don't have a strong base of concentration.

His instructions are quite simple, to use a "preparatory meditation-word whose continuous mental repetition acts as an anchor that quickly grounds the meditator's mind in a state of meditative calm and concentration."

From that point of stillness and clarity, the real work of investigation can begin.

I've come across this teaching before, but I sort of wrote it off as being an elementary practice, this just repeating a word or focusing on the breath. Now, I'm getting back to the basics...
Miniature deer!