This is an AI-generated transcript from auto-generated subtitles for the video above. It likely contains inaccuracies, especially with speaker attribution if there are multiple speakers.

Happy Hour: This Is Enough

Welcome to Happy Hour, everyone.

For the theme of our practice in this moment in time, I wanted to offer contentment. Contentment as a theme for mettā^[1]. Because mettā—kindness, goodwill, friendliness, friendliness with reality, with how things are right now in this moment—brings a sense of contentment as the birthplace of gladness, happiness, and gratitude.

I want to seed this practice today with a little poem called "Enough." The poem is from David Whyte, from Where Many Rivers Meet (1990). Here is the poem:

Enough. These few words are enough. If not these words, this breath. If not this breath, this sitting here. This opening to the life we have refused again and again until now. Until now. Ah, enough. Enough.

What if this is just enough? That serves as the theme of our practice together: enough. Relaxing into enoughness.

Reflections

So, enough. Contentment. Enoughness. I notice that I feel much calmer, soothed, and settled after this period of practice, which was quite bare. Taking a line from David Whyte's poem: "These few words are enough." We had few words tonight in the spirit of enoughness, contentment, and more of a Zen style of silence. More silence.

I'd love to invite you, if you like, to share any reflections. What was this like for you? This turning of the mind, the heart, with friendliness? As an expression of friendliness, safety, and mettā to enoughness. What if this moment is enough? The enoughness of this breath, this body.

Bill shares in the chat: "Simple and calming." Thank you, Bill.

You are welcome to share your reflections in chat or raise your hand. Richard says: "Tenderness, ease." Thank you, lovely.

I see Dawn, please.

Dawn: Thank you so much. I really appreciated the quiet and also the statement, "This is enough. You're enough." Because I was thinking, "Oh, I just need to sit better and get in the perfect meditation posture." And I'm thinking too much, and I'm thinking about what I'm going to say after the meditation, and sort of all this stuff. Anyway, I appreciated it: this is enough. Thank you.

Nikki: Thank you, Dawn. Thank you for sharing your reflections. Yeah, it's so interesting. It feels like "this is enough, I'm enough" can be like a little friendly pin that pops the balloon of the proliferation of thoughts. "I should do this, I should do that, or I'm gonna..." Oh, this is enough. Simplicity. Thanks for sharing that, Dawn.

Another reflection sent directly to me, so I won't say the name: "Escape from the madness of the world." Thank you. I love that: escape from the madness of the world, this practice.

Another reflection: "Refreshing and spacious." Thank you. I so appreciate your reflections. Any other reflections, anything else you noticed? If you found it challenging, too, that's okay, you can share that as well. It's all welcome, it's all enough. Whatever it is, it's all enough, it's all included.

I love this other reflection: "A womb of enoughness." I love it. A womb of enoughness, yes. Giving birth to gladness, contentment, ease. Nice.

Sangha Practice

Well, maybe that has been enough reflections for now. I don't see any hands or reflections popping up, so I'll start our slow transition to practice in Sangha^[2].

The invitation in these small groups for the next few minutes is to start with thirty seconds of silent mettā, silent enoughness. Maybe silently, as you're sitting, feeling "I'm enough and you're enough" as an expression of mettā, as an expression of friendliness. See what that feels like in the interpersonal field. And then you can share how you practice, say a few words, or not. Maybe silence is enough. It's lovely, actually, to cultivate the comfort to sit in silence with others or share words. See whatever feels right for you. You decide what is best for you.

[Breakout rooms open and close]

Welcome back, everyone. I wanted to share the poem with you in the chat. Here it is. The formatting is gone, but the title is on top, and the reference is on the bottom. It's a short poem.

We have a few minutes for reflections, questions, comments, complaints—it's all welcome. So welcome to raise your hand or type it in the chat. Especially if you're newer, or you often don't speak, you're welcome, you're invited.

Q&A

Richard: This is the first time, as far as I can remember, that I didn't feel like I was working during meditation. So should I feel guilty that I wasn't doing anything? I wasn't accomplishing anything?

Nikki: Yay! I absolutely celebrate this. This is absolutely fantastic that there was this sense of non-doing, this sense of ease. That's fantastic, Richard. Yay! And it sounds like this is the first time in a long while, or ever, the way you're putting it. How did it feel? I know your inner wisdom knows that wow, this is easeful.

Richard: Well, I always feel that I have an agenda or something. Or I have to use some method. I have to like concentrate, or count my breaths, or pay attention—to work to pay attention. And this was just sort of accepting whatever, you know, it's enough. It was enough.

Nikki: Yeah, it is enough. And I so appreciate you raising this, because this is such an important point. It's often so subtle that we use the same mind that we use for everything else in our lives. We apply the same mind that wants to get, wants to do, wants to be, wants to accomplish, wants to attain. In our professions, especially in the West, we bring the same type of mind to our meditation.

And this is what we all do, Richard, until we notice, "Wait a minute, that feels like a lot of work." We get tight in knots and it's effortful, and then we don't want to meditate because it's too much work and "I'm not getting anywhere." And yet, the secret actually is the sense of easing into, relaxing into the sense of openness and friendliness with reality. Right Effort^[3], wise effort.

Because wanting to "do, do, do" is too much efforting. And sometimes if there's absolutely no effort and our mind is just wandering all over the place, that's too little effort. But there is a sweet spot, after we've experienced the two ends. It's okay—we will never always get it right on. We will miss, and it's perfectly fine. There are similes that the Buddha teaches about effort: that tuning the mind is like tuning a stringed instrument^[4]. Sometimes it's too tight, sometimes it's too loose. And that's a part of it.

So what you're sharing is that your instrument, your mind, has been too tight. Wow, how different it is, how easeful it is! But no guilt feeling, because that sense of ease actually can open you to finding itself. Meditation shouldn't feel like too much effort; this easeful feeling is a part of it. So please don't feel guilty. Celebrate, as I celebrate for you, this realizing that there is a different way, and this could be a turning point. Does that make sense? How does that land?

Richard: It's perfect. Hopefully.

Nikki: Thanks for coming to Happy Hour, Richard. Great.

A couple more reflections I see in chat. One is: "It was less stimulating and very helpful to quiet the mind at the end of the week. Thank you for the reminder that being present here was enough." Yay, thank you for that beautiful reflection.

And one more reflection from Elizabeth: "Love this metaphor of rivers coming together, many of us as rivers coming together, and just an acceptance of each of us rivulets."

Yes, all of us rivers of humanity, rivulets of humanity coming together. May all of our little rivulets come together as we practice together. Again, this is another simile that the Buddha uses: that with practice, when you practice wholeheartedly, you will end up in no place other than the ocean. And the ocean here is a simile for freedom, for liberation, for peace and ease with all the conditions of life as they come and go. Peace and ease in the heart, so that we can be more present, more loving, more accepting of ourselves, others, and all beings everywhere.

So thank you all for your practice, for coming to Happy Hour to practice. And may our practice serve and support ourselves, others, and all beings everywhere. May all beings be happy. May all beings enjoy the taste of the ocean of liberation^[5].

Thanks, everyone.