Spiral hedge mazeAll of life, all of learning and growth, all of healing follows a spiral path. We return over and over to a place of pain or suffering in order to master the lessons held therein. Each revolution of the spiral brings us more experience and perspective and skill, so that our path is smoothed and we become increasingly resilient and expansive. This sounds good, but in practice it can be quite difficult.

When we find ourselves repeating old patterns we thought we had gotten rid of, dealing with the same difficult people repeatedly, or turning into a teenager again after spending 15 minutes with certain family members, we may feel discouraged. When we are trying to change our behavior from something we dislike to something we like, or to something more functional from something less functional, it is hard to find ourselves in that familiar, rotten territory—all our hard-won awareness shines a blinding light on our foibles, while our bag of well-earned tools hangs loosely at our side, for all intents and purposes utterly empty. But these are actually opportunities for change, and so we can welcome them.

It isn’t easy to change how we do things. The older we get, the more years of habit we have keeping us in the familiar groove, whether or not it serves us. Those grooves were laid down very early on, when we were soft and spongy. Those tracks can be very difficult to obliterate or alter. But not impossible.

Fear not, and do not dismay. These seeming setbacks are natural, normal, and in fact necessary to the process of living our lives, healing our suffering, and moving along our life paths. If we can accept that we have certain lessons we need to learn, it becomes less onerous when they pop up repeatedly. Comprehending the spiral nature of self-healing and understanding the stages of change can help us recognize our successes and appreciate our own hard work.

Awareness
First, we develop awareness. We notice that something isn’t right. We aren’t happy in our relationships or we aren’t satisfied with the quality of our lives. We may search for understanding, in counseling or through contemplation or self-study, or simply wake up to what we are doing. This can be a very painful part of the process of change, but it is necessary. If we don’t know what we are doing, we can’t change anything. But at this stage, we can’t usually act differently.

If we cultivate a nonjudgmental observer’s point of view, a friendly curiosity about ourselves, we can gather a lot of information. This kind, detached attitude also helps us avoid triggering the old patterns, most of which evolved out of self-protection. Refraining from attacking ourselves when we see these patterns means we won’t aggravate them further. No salt in the wound.

Alternative
Once we understand how we get ourselves in trouble, we can choose an alternative, the next stage in the process of change. The general rule here is, “just do something different.” We are talking about change, not perfection. Doing something different is a success, even if it is not pretty or smooth. Learning to excuse ourselves to go to the bathroom instead of engaging in a habitual conflict is not the only strategy we will ever employ, but just breaking the momentum of a negative habit is a powerful experience.

Practice
The practice is up to us. This is the third stage. We have identified the problem, the alternative to it, and now we have to actually walk the path. We will not do it perfectly or have fabulous results every time. We will be clumsy and mess up. If we use our friendly awareness skills, we will notice that just practicing—whether it is meditating, thought-replacing, or lifting weights—is a reward in itself.

Practicing anything intentionally engages us with our lives. The more we practice the new action or thought, the less room we have for the old one. We realize that our work is paying off. We find ourselves automatically saying the new words, pausing where we might previously have rushed in, or stepping forward with confidence where once we might have hidden. We start to see that our work in one area spills over into other areas. Just as lifting heavy weights in the gym translates to ease in lifting grocery bags, children, furniture, and other previously immoveable objects, working consistently with our minds eventually brings more peace, more happiness, and less suffering to ourselves and those around us.

Please note that after the third stage—or any time, really—we circle back around to the first stage. There is no final stage where we win. The process never ends, but it gets easier with practice, so we might as well relax.

A dog patiently holds a leash in his mouth, waiting to be walked.This month our Paramita, or practice on the path towards happiness, is patience. The practice of patience involves a shift in our perspective. Buddhist teacher Sylvia Boorstein says patience “…remains present as long as the mind remembers that things end…when their conditioning causes end…” Conditioning causes are the elements that are coming together in this particular place and time that are causing us stress. In other words, have patience, this too shall pass.

Stress could, in fact, be celebrated as the only opportunity we have to practice patience. Of course, our habitual tendency is to react against stress rather than greet it with enthusiasm, but that doesn’t mean it’s impossible to do so. Try it sometime.

We sometimes object to the idea of patience, as if it will make us passive patsies and “someone will get away with something” (oh, no!). Holding this attitude, we ignore the depth of harm we do in our impatience, and also misinterpret the actual practice of patience. Patience isn’t standing by while harm is done to us or to someone else. It is not about letting someone take advantage of us or abuse us. Patience is the capacity to calm the mind under stress so we can see our way clearly. In an abusive situation, for example, patience can lead us to make a plan for our safety, and come up with an exit strategy that will actually accomplish our freedom. Impatience can lead to running out of the house without clothes or money or any support at all, and where does that end up? Not in a good place, usually.

What Does Patience Have to Do with Happiness?

Patience is the antidote to anger. If we are irritated or angry or even feel violent impulses, we can actually learn to wait until the feelings pass, which they will. Anger can be difficult to work with, because it so strongly compels us to action. We often feel we will have no relief until we let it all out. In truth, we always do harm when we act out of anger, whether towards another being, a circumstance, or ourselves.

Patience comes from having confidence, born of awareness, practice, and experience that the storm will pass, and that if we ride it out, all will be well again. I recently heard a woman on the radio describing her radical approach to conflict in intimate relationships; instead of “Never go to bed angry” she suggested just going to bed, and seeing if you are still angry in the morning. Given the impermanent nature of all emotions, this approach makes sense. If there is something you can do about it, no need to get upset. If there is nothing you can do about it, there is no need to get upset.

[fat_widget_left] The therapist who changed my life in my mid-twenties used to tell me, “The reward of patience is patience.” I didn’t find that appealing in the least, and I told her so. I may have said, “So what?” or “What’s that got to do with me?” I was impatient and had no interest in slowing down. I could not conceive of any possible benefit to patience. If it was its own reward, that meant nothing to me. Twenty-five years later, I think I may have finally caught on a bit.

When I put some effort into practicing patience in one area, such as in traffic or with a person I might find irritating, then patience is more likely to arise spontaneously, without effort, when I need it most. I was on an airplane recently that had been delayed by weather. We were two hours late taking off, and most of us were going to miss our connections. The man sitting next to me was extremely fretful and frustrated and tense, and I found that I was actually quite relaxed. We chatted a bit, and I tried to cheer him up, but I could see how deeply attached he was to feeling upset. He told me he traveled a lot for business and it was just getting worse and worse. I agreed that air travel has grown pretty unpleasant for most of us, but I noted to myself that, above all, we have the experience we create for ourselves. That day I realized that my efforts to develop patience had paid off—I felt patient without even trying!

What does patience feel like? For me it is relaxing, energizing, with a clear tone, like a bell, and a view that goes on as far as the sky. Patience is the willingness to stop stirring the water of the pond we are trying to look into. Patience sets down the stick and waits for the natural clarity of the settled water to arise. (Of course, as a teacher of mine noted recently, then we can see all the junked tires, tin cans, and skeletons down there on the bottom!)

Patience is trusting our natural minds to know what to do when we stop disrupting and distorting what is actually happening in the here and now, and practice mindfulness.

Now, I eventually ended that plane trip in a miserable heap, having missed too many planes to reach my destination and having a respiratory illness that forced me to make a last-minute decision to just go home. So, patience is not the answer to everything, nor is it guaranteed to stick around all the time. What stands out in my mind is the contrast between myself and that fellow steeped in anxiety on the airplane, and the knowledge that it is possible to feel calm even when our impulses drive us strongly toward distress. The reward of patience is, in fact, patience!

Five Steps to Cultivate Patience:

What other ways can you find to practice patience?

Kwan yin statueTo continue with the theme of the paramitas from last month, wherein we began with generosity, we will look at the practice of ethics or morality (Shila in Pali language), sometimes referred to as discipline.

Many of us have a negative response to the words morality and discipline (and possibly ethics), which can sound like something imposed, a should we never live up to. Some of us lose hope around these words, or like bad people, or self-righteous. In truth, discipline and morality are inner qualities that, when cultivated within a clear framework, bring a sense of peace and well being, from knowing we live a life of integrity and no-harm.

Cultivating Ethical Discipline offers the following benefits (and beyond):

In the Buddhist path of the paramitas, Shila has a specific structure. In most traditions, when a person becomes a Buddhist, they take five precepts as their vow of conduct. When we choose to practice the paramita of ethics/discipline, we use the precepts as the basis of our practice for developing these inner qualities.

We make an agreement with ourselves to do no harm to other beings, including refraining from killing insects. We agree not to steal, or take what isn’t freely given, including borrowing without asking. We agree not to lie, gossip, misinform, or otherwise harm with our speech. We agree to not harm through our sexual energy, including breaking our commitments or interfering with the commitments of others, participating in exploitation or fantasies that could harm others, and so forth. We agree not to drink to excess or take drugs, to keep from clouding our minds and obstructing clear-seeing.

These are ideals we strive for, not goals we punish ourselves for not attaining. As in training a puppy, beating ourselves into submission will not bring the desired results. Repeatedly offering ourselves clear, firm, and loving guidelines, until the new behavior becomes established, works much better. There are gradations in every field of human endeavor. I have managed to never murder a human I was angry with, but I still lose control when streams of ants flow through my kitchen, and I have resorted to ant-murder more than once. (My preferred approach now is to repel them with eucalyptus leaves scattered outside the house, but every so often they come in anyway and I break my vow again.)

I think most of us hold the intention, whether vaguely or explicitly, to live a good life, to refrain from harm, and behave well. The precepts give us a clear path for doing so, and a landmark we can refer to when we lose our way (which we all do, repeatedly, so be kind to yourself about it).

To integrate the precepts into our daily life, we can read the following aloud to ourselves each morning and see what arises throughout the day. People often think they know which precepts might trip them up, only to be surprised in practice. Keep an open, curious mind and see what arises.

Today I intend to:

There may be different precepts you would set for yourself, and maybe you will experiment with them. I encourage you to try these first, because they have worked for 2,600 years, and because most everything is covered: vowing to eat healthier food, have better relationships, do your practices regularly. It’s all here.

We may not know how to deal with a broken vow. Our parents may not have been consistent or clear in their rules and consequences for misbehavior, so we may only know how to beat ourselves up or feel guilty or bad if we do something that is out of integrity with who we want to be. There is a structure in Buddhism for working with moments or events when we fall short of our ideals. We all mess up from time to time, and we have to forgive ourselves and work through, or we will accumulate a burden of pain and guilt and shame that clouds our interactions and our experience of the world.

Making Amends
When, for example, we hurt someone with our speech or actions, we begin by allowing ourselves to fully feel the pain of causing pain. So often we turn away from this, or take refuge in guilt, rather than looking directly at what we have done, and why. If we can bear to see clearly the roots of our behaviors, and feel the results, it becomes easier to bring ourselves in line with what we generally intend, which is to do no harm?

Next, we do our best to mend the tear in our integrity, both with ourselves and with anyone we hurt. Our apologies need to be sincere and without expectation. If we require forgiveness or even acceptance of our apology, then the apology is attached to something other than our sincere regret. We can apologize from our hearts, freely, and allow the other person to do what they wish with that. It is not up to them to free us or grant us pardon. We are responsible for our own experience. This is our own work. Only we can complete it.

If there are other reparations to be made, we make them, without resentment or hesitation. If we break a window, we replace the glass. No story is needed about how bad we are for breaking it, or how mean they are for making us replace it. We trust our inherent morality to know what is right and we act accordingly.

We then vow to not behave in such a way again, and do our best to follow that pledge. We will, most likely, slip up anyway. So we return to the beginning of the process of amends and unravel it all over again. This is a lifelong process. Have patience.

Two tiny plants sprout out of rich soil.The thought manifests as the word;
The word manifests as the deed;
The deed develops into habit;
The habit hardens into character.
So watch the thought and its ways with care,
And let it spring from love
Born out of concern for all beings. -The Buddha

In the garden of our minds, weeds are the habitual patterns we perpetuate unintentionally, which choke out the new ways we are trying to cultivate. It is the nature of weeds to try to take over, as it is the nature of old ingrained patterns to rise up again and again. So we need to pay attention, and take care of the weedy stuff as soon as we can, to make space for the new.

Sometimes the space created by taking out weeds can feel scary. That’s okay, it is a good time to kick back and take a few deep breaths and a stroll around the garden to see what else is happening. What are those glorious bright flowers doing over there? Oh, those are bulbs you planted last fall, with faith and confidence (okay, maybe not so much confidence, but you did plant them). Now they are doing their thing. They are springing forth because when you planted them you ensured successful conditions, as best you could—considering timing, placement, and nourishment. Then you trusted the nature of the work you did and the nature of what you set in the ground, and voila—now you have daffodils.

Sometimes it takes a season or two for the blossoming of our intention to become apparent. It may take years, even decades, for that clump of well-placed daffodils to become a field and overtake the weeds by themselves. But it will happen. That is the nature of well-placed, intentional action and mindfulness.

Training the mind is like gardening. We select what to cultivate and set about creating the ideal causes and conditions for it to flourish. What we may not realize is that what grows is not only what we place in the ground of our minds, but the attitude with which we tend it. Gardening means attending to the daily changes that occur in our plot of land; in this case, what happens to our minds each day. If the weeds get high, there is no need for judgment, there is need for weeding.

When we notice old negative habits creeping in—the weeds of the mind, as it were—it does not serve to attack them. They were planted there early on, for good reason, so we can simply acknowledge their presence, accept that they will invariably arise as remnants of a former crop, and remove them with respect. Any time we till the soil of our minds to plant something new, we expose the seeds of old thoughts and behaviors to fresh light and nourishment. If we do not want to encourage the rampant growth of old habits, we have to pay attention (oh, how they spring up in a moment!).

But to reject them is pointless, and to approach them aggressively merely scatters the seeds of aggression and negativity. We can plant the seeds of patience, kind-hearted attention, intention, compassion, and wellbeing, even as we remove the unwanted habits from the ground of our minds. We can appreciate that these “weeds” had their place in our lives, that they kept us alive until we became able to choose something more useful.

Anything we are trying to change, can only be changed with kindness and awareness; self-hatred and rejection only recreate the conditions of fear that gave rise to the old habit in the first place.

Say you bite your fingernails from anxiety, a habit you learned for self-soothing as a child. No amount of scolding from a parent, no amount of bitter apple, no rejection of the habit ever freed you from it. The underlying anxiety was never addressed, and in fact was exacerbated through these tactics. What frees us from nail-biting, and anything else we developed to comfort ourselves in painful times (which is every habit we have), is both the antidote to the habit and the ache beneath the habit—love. Loving ourselves and our habits, accepting their presence in our lives, is the path through the habit to a new and more useful way of being.

As we learn to gently speak our truths, as we stand up for ourselves, as we attend to the present moment’s pain, we can move from suffering to health. We decide what to plant now. If you never liked kohlrabi, don’t plant it, but if you always longed for violets, now is your chance. Plant them where and when they are most likely to thrive, tend them by feeding and watering, weed lovingly, and enjoy the natural beauty of your mind.

Person sitting by window looking up meditating“Pain is inevitable; suffering is optional.” —Buddhist proverb

One morning when I was trying to leave a meditation group, I became agitated because others were “making me late” for another meditation group. I moved swiftly from blaming others to feeling shame at my imagined late entrance and fearing that I wouldn’t be able to find a place to sit. These worries, coupled with my anxiety about pain in my back and whether I could even sit, led to a meltdown.

I rapidly convinced myself that everyone (yes, everyone) would stare at me and shun me forever (yes, forever). I disconnected from the facts. I forgot that these people were my sangha—my community of Buddhist practitioners—and are committed to compassion for all beings (yes, even for me). They weren’t there to judge me. Like me, they were there to hear our teachers. But who needs facts in the middle of a meltdown? I found myself weeping as I drove, conjuring all kinds of judgment about what a bad person I was for falling apart. “And you call yourself a meditator! Tsk, tsk!” said the voice in my mind.

[fat_widget_right]

As I drove along in misery, I somehow remembered I could drop all of these stories. Suddenly the thought arose, clear as a bell: “I am just crying.” That was the simple truth of the situation, the only thing that was actually happening. My relief was immediate and complete. By the time I arrived, I had settled. I blew my nose and entered the hall as the lamas were beginning their talk. I found a seat easily and was greeted warmly by friends sitting nearby.

As usual, all my suffering was for nothing. If more pain had come my way in that moment, fretting about it wouldn’t help. Fretting only leads to further disconnect from my heart and my strength. If no pain had come my way, then fretting would only waste precious time and energy. As Buddhists say, “If you can do something about it, no need to worry. If you can’t do anything about it, no need to worry.”

Creating Suffering

We all experience pain in our lives. Unfortunately, our attempts to manage pain often turn it into suffering instead of providing relief.

Some common ways we create suffering include:

Noticing Pain

Both physical and emotional pain can be effectively managed when we look directly at what is actually happening. We examine it, but we don’t reject it, cling to it, ignore it, or elaborate it. This perspective allows us to notice the true nature of pain: transitory, mutable, and impermanent. It is not solid and ceaseless, It has no story—despite our attempts to give it one. It appears and then dissolves over time.

We all experience pain in our lives. Unfortunately, our attempts to manage pain often turn it into suffering instead of relief.

It takes an open mind to perceive our situation clearly and accurately. It takes patience to sit and observe without altering, judging, or making assumptions. It can help to remember that we are never alone. Any pain or suffering we feel has also been felt by others. There is no one whose life is free from pain, who does not wish to be free of suffering, and who does not deserve compassion. We are all in this together.

Practice sitting quietly a few minutes each day without letting your thoughts or feelings run things. Use this time to wish for all beings—including ourselves and the people we find difficult—to be free from suffering. Practice mindfulness. This can help us learn to recognize which of our stories are creating suffering. When we recognize this, we may become more willing to drop them on the spot.

When we simply rest our minds on pain without aiming to alter our experience, we might notice that the pain changes. This can bring great comfort and reassurance. Pain is no more permanent than anything else. Headaches are not solid and unchanging. Neither are depression and fear. Through this practice we can gain confidence in our ability to work with whatever arises in the moment. We don’t need to cover the world with leather to protect our feet. We can simply wear shoes.

One thing is certain: more pain will come our way in this life. It is inevitable. But it is possible to choose whether we will turn it into suffering or simply leave it to arise and dissolve on its own. That is always an option.

Important Notice

GoodTherapy is not intended to be a substitute for professional advice, diagnosis, medical treatment, or therapy. Always seek the advice of your physician or qualified mental health provider with any questions you may have regarding any mental health symptom or medical condition. Never disregard professional psychological or medical advice nor delay in seeking professional advice or treatment because of something you have read on GoodTherapy.