When things go wrong in my life, I tend to think about…me. When things go well, I tend to think about…me, again. I, me, mine. As humans, we’re hardwired for that. Maybe it’s how we protect ourselves. Maybe it’s one way we teach our kids to protect themselves. Maybe it's helped our species survive (or has it?).
What if we thought of others instead, in both instances? What if, when something went well – in our practice, in the law, in our lives - we thought, oh, I have enough. I have plenty. I’m sending this good thing, this good energy, to my friends, my family, my colleagues. To people I don’t even know. To my enemies! To all the humans. All beings. What if we did that?
And what if, when things went wrong, we did less “I, me, mine-ing?” And instead, thought of everyone else going through something similar, and wished them ease and wellbeing? Or just remembered what Ram Dass said: that we’re all just walking each other home?
Hi everyone, it’s Judi Cohen and this is Wake Up Call 428. I’m curious about Chapter 11 of The Places That Scare You, which is just a page and a half. Because in that chapter, Pema Chodron offers what seems to me to be a pith instruction or a pointing out instruction.
I looked up “pith instruction” because the practice comes out of the Tibetan, or Vajrayana, tradition, which is a tradition I’ve practiced only a tiny bit. I found an article by New England teacher Pema Düddul in Tricycle Magazine, who wrote:
Pith instructions, also referred to as heart teachings, essential instructions, or direct pointing-out instructions, are a form of concise yet rich teachings that distill the core essence of Buddhist [or mindfulness] philosophy into clear, experiential guidance. Such instructions aim to bypass intellectual complexities and lead practitioners directly to transformative insights. They cut through complicated doctrines to provide a direct and profound experience of the nature of reality and the mind. They are shortcuts to understanding and experience… [and] get right to the point, taking the practitioner from where they are—their point of departure, as it were—to their destination—insight or even awakening. Rather than merely indicating the general direction—like someone you meet on the road to ask for directions who waves vaguely toward the horizon—they take you straight to where you want to be...
Then I texted my friend and teacher Robert Chender, who’s a co-lead teacher with me in this year’s MLTT (which starts Sunday!). Robert is a long-time Vajrayana practitioner and teacher. He said, “what’s pointed out is the mind beyond concept…but we can only absorb teachings if we’re ready to hear them.”
From Robert’s description, I probably have this wrong in the sense of what it is. It may not be a pith instruction. But for me, anyway, when I read it, something shifted – something that felt both simple and powerful.
You probably want to hear it, and I want to share it. But first I want to give you the color (I had to say that because it’s Super Bowl weekend ☺ ) – the background.
Pema says in this chapter, look, it’s not enough to do compassion training theoretically. Or to practice it sometimes. We also have to bring the training alive. She poses the question, “how do we make the teachings real? In the midst of our overscheduled lives [I’m raising my hand], how do we discover our inherent clarity and compassion? How do we develop trust that openness and maitri [love, kindness, compassion] are available even in the most frantic moments?”
Then she gives us a suggestion, a practice, which she calls “sharing the heart,” and says it’s simple. (And as usual I would say for me, yes, simple, but also so challenging to remember, moment to moment. When things are going well, it’s a little easier to remember sharing the heart practice; when things are aligned, work is great, kids are great, grands are great, everyone’s health is good. Four out of five. Even three out of five. But when things are going sideways? Not so much, and again that’s just me.
But it might come easier for you, so here’s Pema’s “sharing the heart” practice. “[T]he essence,” she says, “…is that when we encounter pain in our life we breathe into our heart with the recognition that others also feel this way…[as] a way of acknowledging when we are closing down and of training to open up. When we encounter … pleasure or tenderness…, we cherish [it] and rejoice, [and] then make the wish that others could also experience this delight or … relief.”
Yesterday I had a conversation with my daughter. She’s in a tough moment, just starting a new career, unsettled, lots of things. My equanimity was low, and I came away feeling frustrated on her behalf, and shaken.
So I thought, good object lesson. I breathed into my heart with the recognition that other moms feel this way when their kids are struggling. I remembered a recent conversation with my aunt, who’s like an older sister to me, about how she feels shaken and frustrated, too, supporting my cousin through some hard times right now. I remembered a friend whose daughter has been really difficult for several years now. I tried to open up to everyone in the world who loves their children with a ferocity that sometimes almost borders on pain, like I do and like my aunt does and like my friend does, and who feels their kids’ pain intensely. I could feel that my heart wasn’t very open, that there was a shutting down, and this helped. My heart opened maybe a little. I got some sleep and am feeling less shaky. I really do know I’m not alone in this. (Of course, I still want to fix thing even though I know in my mind – in my bones – how inappropriate and not in the least bit helpful that is.)
So my report on practicing sharing the heart with this painful thing, did open my heart a little, and I’m going to keep practicing with it - because it’s a little bit helpful, and also because I feel like that’s what Pema would say to do.
I also had a chance to practice sharing the heart because we had a grandbaby born on Monday! He’s beautiful and healthy and his mom is doing great, and it wasn’t a forgone conclusion because it had been a super-high-risk pregnancy. And now everyone’s good! I’ve really been cherishing this goodness, which has felt wonderful. And, I practiced sharing it: I sent a photo of the little guy to lots of friends and family, and also to a community I really love and which had offered a lot of prayers for him when things were not looking so good. Sharing the heart after the amazingness of Eli’s birth has been both simple and easy.
But none of that is the pith instruction (if it is a pith instruction). The pith instruction (if that’s what it is) comes next in the chapter. Or anyway the summary. After giving the sharing the heart instructions, Pema sums them up by saying, “when life is pleasant, think of others. When life is a burden, think of others.” And she also says, “If this is the only training we ever remember to do, it will benefit us tremendously and everyone else as well.”
