May All Beings Be Free of Pain and Sorrow
October is almost here. Or maybe time is half-inching along what with the pandemic, smoke from epic fires, and the pending shitshow election, and it felt like it would never get here. Sigh. When in the past we might have looked to Halloween to lighten our spirits…this year maybe social distancing will require alterations. Glum faces on our children and youth. Perhaps we should burn our Daruma dolls early this year?
Or, as a last resort, perhaps, consider your meditation practice as a refuge. On the Heart side, Compassion and Equanimity practice come to mind. How do we hold space for all the suffering sentient beings without getting knocked sideways ourselves? This is a matter of disconnecting your empathetic connection before the overwhelm sets in. Re-regulating yourself using your inner capacity or turning to someone close to help, then reengage the suffering. This back and forth; back and forth. With Equanimity practice, learning to keep your balance in interesting times. Neither leaning towards nor away, not spacing out. In balance. Neural. Flat.
May All Beings be free of pain and sorrow; may All Beings be well and happy.
Things are just as they are; things are impermanent. Joy and sorrow arise and pass away.
All Being are the heirs of the intentions and actions; our joy and our sorrow is dependent on our intentions and actions; not on the wishes of others for us.
We care about each other; but we cannot prevent each other from suffering.
This points towards a deeper understanding of Karma. To our tendency to prefer some outcomes to others. But how do we know which outcome is better than another in the moment that our disappointment and fear take over? I am reminded of the Zen Story of the Farmer and the Horse.
One morning the Farmer finds his corral empty, his horse run away. The Farmer relies on the horse to pull his plow, and to transport his crops to market. The Farmer’s neighbors come by and remark, “How unlucky you are; you have the worst luck of anybody.” The Farmer says, “Good luck, bad luck, who knows?”
The next day, the Farmer’s horse returns to the corral with three other wild horses. The neighbors come by and say, “What good luck you have; you have better luck than anybody.” The Farmer says, “Good luck, bad luck, who knows?”
The next day, the Farmer’s oldest son while trying to break one of the wild horses is thrown and breaks his leg. The neighbors come by, “How unlucky you are; you have the worst luck of anybody.” The Farmer says, “Good luck, bad luck, who knows?”
The next day, a Warlord comes through the village conscripting all the able-bodied oldest sons and taking them to war but leaves the Farmer’s oldest son because his leg is broken. The neighbors come by, “How unlucky you are; you have the worst luck of anybody.” The Farmer says, “Good luck, bad luck, who knows?”
It is hard to know the outcome of an action that we take. This is why we practice forming a skillful intention, take a skillful action, see what happens, and then course correct. This process of taking in the data available to us, forming the intention, taking the action, requires an openness to see clearly what happens so that we are available to benefit from the outcome or course correct, and not become derailed by our disappointment from not getting what we thought we wanted to have happen. Attuning to the process of Karma as it unfolds. A place of understanding and acceptance. Or, lacking immediate understanding, acceptance solo. Balance.