What Is It that We Are Doing with Our Minds?
Oriana LaChance, Rev. Master
In putting together something for the journal, it occurred to me that it might be helpful to put these two short essays from Eugene Buddhist Priory’s blog, “Walking the Buddha Way,” side-by-side. Although written a year or so apart, they both look at the question, “What is it that we are doing with our minds (and how helpful is that)?”
Flexible Mind
The more years of meditation and Buddhist practice I experience, the more I am aware of the essential nature of flexible mind. Is there acceptance without flexible mind? Can we act with compassion and wisdom without flexible mind? Can we actually listen without flexible mind? In the end, the lack of flexible mind appears to be a large stumbling block to giving up the idea of separation of self and other and to spiritual awakening.
In studying how we learn, scientists sometimes use the term “cognitive flexibility,” which has been broadly described as “the ability to adjust one’s thinking from old situations to new situations, as well as the ability to overcome responses or thinking that have become habitual and adapt to new situations.” We do not need to carry old habits and old stories and old views on right and wrong, good and bad, intelligent and stupid around with us. These habits and views are not “fixed,” though it may sometimes feel like it.
In Zen, cognitive flexibility is akin to shoshin, original mind or beginner’s mind, or the mind that doesn’t already have everything figured out “That’s my story and I’m going to stick to it.”
What I see here is rigid mind and the truth of impermanence working at cross purposes. All things are in flux all the time, and our rigid mind wants things to be like this. Since we cannot control like this, frustration and unhappiness result. We have a choice: we can be immovable (and unhappy) or we can accept the transience of all things and move along with everything else.
A key difference I have experienced between flexible mind and rigid mind is that rigid mind tends toward resistance and “no,” while flexible mind is curious and open. Rigid mind says “I know what I know.” Because we won’t let anything into our life that may challenge us, the world where we “know what we know,” the world we live in each day, becomes smaller and smaller.
If having a flexible mind is one of the key elements in moving toward the end of suffering, then why is it so difficult to come by? Self is entrenched in self. When we talk about letting go or dropping something that comes up in meditation or in our daily practice, it occurs to me that it isn’t the thought or feeling so much that we are letting go of—it is the self. Over and over again. And that is hard work. Self wants its own way and is most comfortable going along as it always has, even though this only heightens our inability to relate to others and our sense of separation.
In being aware of my own “entrenched self,” I have found that the following help me to encourage flexible mind:
- See the rigidity, the hardening, the tightness when it arises. Watch what it does to your body, your heart. Let your body teach you.
- Don’t act or shut down. Slow down, be still, turn inward rather than reacting. When you have the option in difficult situations, wait at least 24 hours until rigid mind has softened a bit before speaking or acting. (Do hold off on those instantaneous, reactive texts and emails.)
- Turn toward the feeling or thought that has triggered rigid mind and observe it. What is this feeling or thought? What is it doing for me? My personal favorite: Is any good going to come from this? If not, do your best to cease and desist.
- Understand that what has arisen is only a feeling or thought. It’s not you and it’s not “the truth.” It is a cloud passing through a clear sky. No big deal.
- Give rigid mind some space and compassion. Reside in it when it arises but don’t be it.
- Relax and loosen your grip. Rigid mind generally comes from wanting something or someone to be a certain way. Relax and look around rather than being lost in your story. What is actually going on? What are we covering over or hiding from when we invite in rigid mind? Do we believe/act as if rigid mind will protect us, keep us from harm? Will it? Study that.
- Say, “I don’t know.” I don’t know how things are now; I don’t know how things should be. What would it be like to allow the future to unfold without striving to know and control everything?
When our mind is empty—flexible mind, beginner’s mind—we are ready to be aware, to observe, to learn, to invite and to not-know. This is where separate self begins to dissolve and where awakening arises.
Life Is Happening: A Work in Progress
This has been a year of “many things” coming from left field to disturb whatever equilibrium I might have. I recently remarked to a congregation member that sometimes I feel that all I do is “trouble shoot.” In the midst of a “stress attack,” I said to another monk that my first response to everything that comes up needing my attention is, “How much of my time is this going to take?” Lately, I have begun to carefully watch how frequently and easily I feel overwhelmed by the circumstances of my day. And what occurred to me—and as time went on what became more and more clear—is that whatever is arising in my life, no matter how busy I might be, “busyness” is not the issue. What is at issue is my own mind (not again). I have had a basic attitude of everything that comes up that I cannot control (like most things) is a problem. And, yes, I am doing this with my mind. The problem part is only my particular spin on things. It is not by nature a problem; I see it as a problem. I have an opinion about it and am actually, if I look closely, a bit outraged. At what, for what? Because once again I am not in control?
Okay, so I began to entertain the idea that whatever arises is just life happening. This is what needs my attention now, so do this. Can I see that whatever arises is inherently neutral—neither good nor bad? Isn’t this what we learn from sitting zazen? It’s all scenery. We don’t need to use it as feed for our ongoing storyline about how overwhelmed we are. We don’t need to make judgments about whether we like it or dislike it. Just get on and do the next thing. Know—from experience, know—this stressful thing that is being asked of you will generally seem minuscule and insignificant in a very short time, if you even remember it.
This brings up another question I have about stress. Am I able to do what needs to be done without that push, push energy? Always pushing. It isn’t the activity that exhausts us. It is the pushing to get it done or get it right or get it, get it, get it that exhausts us. Aware of this, now when I see myself pushing, I do my best to back away, slow down, ask myself, “Can I do this without pushing?” Yes, you can and more smoothly, more happily, and even more efficiently. When the thought arises, “I can’t do this anymore,” stop. Right here, right now, when you feel that urge to push, stop.
Here’s a simple example. A year or so after I came to Eugene Priory, I noticed that before I set out to do errands in town I would look at my watch and determine that I should be back by a given time. This meant that all the errands had a rushed, desperate quality. No relaxing here. When I saw this I realized that I usually came home tired because of the pushing, the trying to accomplish, not because of the errands themselves. So I stopped predicting when I should return and the whole quality of the errands went through a change. Just do this now, then do this now. When I caught myself looking at my watch or rushing, I would stop for a moment, relax. It is mind that trips us up, not the number of errands. You don’t have time to slow down? It is interesting that it generally doesn’t take any longer to do errands with this new mind set. You can even come home refreshed from having been out for a while.
Am I giving you a lesson in mindfulness training and stress? Well, partly. But let’s take it a bit further. Really, I am giving you an example of how we create our own suffering with our mind. That understanding has Buddhist underpinnings.
Let’s look at Shantideva’s, The Way of the Bodhisattva. Writing in the 8th century, Shantideva tells us: “Wandering where it will, the elephant of mind will bring us down to pains of deepest hell. No worldly beast however wild could bring upon us such calamities.”
No worldly beast—no external thing—can bring us to such dire consequences as our own state of mind. The good news is that we can do something about this. We can’t do anything about many of the things that happen in our lives, but we can stop contributing to our own suffering with the ideas, beliefs, expectations, prejudices and limited perspective of our mind.
Shantideva continues:
“If with mindfulness’ rope, the elephant of the mind is tethered all around, our fears will come to nothing, every virtue drop into our hands. Tigers, lions, elephants and bears, snakes and every hostile beast, those who guard the prisoners in hell, all ghosts and ghouls and every evil phantom, by simple binding of this mind alone, all these things are likewise bound. By simple taming of this mind alone, all these things are likewise tamed. For all anxiety and fear, all sufferings in boundless measure, their source and wellspring is the mind itself.”
Who can we blame? Only ourselves and our rampaging minds. And don’t forget the good news: this is in our hands. We can stop adding to our own suffering. We can tame our minds.
This article is available only as part of the Autumn 2020 Journal of the Order of Buddhist Contemplatives.
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