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Guided Meditation: Simplicity

Hello and welcome. We're here to do something relatively simple: to sit quietly, being attentive to our present-moment experience. To make it a little bit more complicated, we do it through our direct capacities for attention, capacities for direct awareness through the senses of our body. Aware of the present moment through our body. Aware of the present moment through our capacity to mentally observe or perceive what's happening in the present moment. This simple mental perceiving is prior to stories, prior to interpretations, prior to commentary and judgments.

Staying close to this place of direct experience, immediate experience, being simple enough to be there. Part of the fruit of practice is to begin appreciating this simplicity of being, simplicity of attention, settling into it enough that we realize that some of the alternative ways of being are less beneficial, are less satisfying. To get swept up in stories, swept up in analysis, commentary, judgments, swept up into the future and the past, becomes less satisfying than the simplicity of being here.

So it's not a matter of convincing anyone that it's valuable to be here in a very simple, direct way, but rather for each of us to discover that for ourselves. By having enough connection to this present moment, we notice, we see, we recognize that the alternatives are not as satisfying. Maybe they are not as beneficial, not as peaceful, not as happy, or not as insightful, not giving us a clear perception of what's happening.

So you might consider this today, that we're sitting here to have a very simple presence, to rest in a simple attention. Just enough—it doesn't have to be dramatic—just enough to recognize that when we lose it, it's less satisfying. It's alienating. We lose touch with ourselves. We get into fantasy. We get into ideas of what is right and wrong and what should be happening, and we give rein to our anxieties, our fears, and our desires. They might be pleasant, some of the things we think about and do, but pleasure is not the same as a deep abiding satisfaction. As if we're really at home in this universe, at home in ourselves, at ease.

To be reassured with just being present here. That Buddhist word for reassurance^[1] is the same as to breathe easily, to be able to breathe easily here and now. So, assume a meditation posture that will support you in this simple presence, simple attention to here. And relax your gaze. If you're looking at the screen, then perhaps drop your eyes downwards so you're not gazing at it, and soften your gaze. And then maybe even close your eyes.

Everything we need to discover the dharma^[2] for ourselves is here in your body, your heart, your mind. Not to be figured out, but to be revealed as your attention gets simpler and simpler, just here.

To enter this world where the dharma is found, you can take a few long, slow, deep breaths, as if you're choosing to embody your body. As if you're planting yourself here in the soil of your physical experience.

Then letting your breathing return to normal. And as you exhale, relax your face. Softening around the eyes, the jaw. It might be helpful to let your lips fall slightly open. And as you exhale, soften and relax the shoulders. Release the shoulders to the gentle pull of gravity.

As you exhale, softening in the heart. Many times our desires and fears take us out of our hearts. Relax and soften back into the heart. And soften the belly. To spend a lot of time with the belly tight and contracted is often a symptom of not being present, but being concerned about other things.

Then breathing normally with the exhale. Appreciate the exhale, the release, the relaxing. The movements, tingling, as you exhale. Maybe at the end of the exhale you can release, relax, so that you exhale a little bit longer without effort, just relaxing.

And as you inhale, appreciating the inhale.

If it seems appropriate for you, center yourself in the body's experience of breathing. Simplicity of attention with the breathing. Not ambitious, not trying to do a lot or attain anything as you sit here, except appreciating the simplicity of attention here to the breathing, to your body, to the present moment.

If anything takes you away from that, maybe there's a way of seeing it that you understand that it's less satisfying than settling into a simplicity of being, where you have a chance to breathe easily. Be at ease in a deeper way, just here in the simplicity of the present moment.

Reflections

As we come to the end of this sitting, if you have some appreciation for some simple way of being present here and now for your experience, for yourself, and how that might be better than the alternatives where your mind might take you—chances are that that alternative that is not as satisfying for you might not be so satisfying for others as well.

Maybe there's something about being at ease, assured, confident, and settled in the simplicity of our being that is a gift for others. Maybe it's a way of helping others to be at ease around us. Maybe it's a way for us to be more attentive to others in a simple, direct way. Maybe it's easier for us to access our care, our love, our kindness, and goodwill. Maybe it's easier for us to experience the suffering of the world without being swept up in some of the alternative ways of thinking and feeling that are not so useful for us or for the world.

And so as we come to the end of the sitting, perhaps there's something about how you are, having sat for these minutes, that can be your gift. So you live this day or the next day a little bit more inclined to contribute to the welfare and happiness of others. And may it be that, growing out of our simplicity of being, we live so that all beings may be happy. All beings may be safe. All beings may be peaceful, and so that all beings may be free.

Dharmette: Patience (5 of 6) Patient Acceptance of Truth

So today is the fifth talk on patience. Today's topic is the patient acceptance of truth, or the basic willingness or openness to stay close to the truth.

When I began this series, I introduced it by saying that I wanted the reference point for patience in this discussion not to be a directive—that just from zero to sixty you should be patient without any other context—but rather that many of you have been meditating for some time and have been in dharma practice for a long time. The hope is that it has given you some reference point for a way of being that is satisfying, that is worthy of staying close to, some way of being true to oneself and true to life that is meaningful.

Then comes a recognition that as the mind and the heart depart from that, they get involved in other things: reactions, desires, attachments, addictions, aversions, resentments, hostilities, fantasies, fears, anxieties, commentary, complaining—all kinds of things the mind does that are less satisfying than what we've tapped into. It's less meaningful; it's less true. So to be patient is not to overlay patience on top of our experience, not to bear down, tighten up, and not react, but rather patience is staying true to what we know is valuable. It is coming back and staying with it, staying close to what we know is valuable, and not giving in to these forces of anger, resentment, and impatience that might come along.

As dharma practice deepens, so does our contact with something that feels truer and truer. Our contact with a deep sense of peace, ease, happiness, and well-being that can well up from the inside. That is not dependent on experiences in the world, not dependent on what happens around us with other people. It doesn't depend on getting a raise at work or winning the lottery, or what other people do, but it really seems to well up from the inside out. It becomes something we carry with us, a sense of well-being that ideally becomes strong enough that we're not buffeted by the experiences around us. We're not dependent on the world around us to behave in a certain way, or dependent on people to be a certain way, because we carry with us this stability and this well-being.

As that deepens and deepens, we become more clearly aware of what takes us away from it. We become more clearly aware that this is true here: that being less selfish is a true thing. The patient acceptance of these truths—of this deeper well-being, the value in not clinging, the value of not being hostile, the value of not being selfish or self-centered, the value of not clinging and holding on to things—these kinds of things are seen as being true.

In Buddhism, this kind of truth statement is not propositional truth so much, but rather the truth of how we respond to and be with whatever is happening in the world: that we don't be with it with clinging or hostility. We don't be with it by overlaying layers and layers of stories, commentaries, reactions, and bias.

The patient acceptance of truth is difficult sometimes. To stay close to the truth of non-clinging, to stay close to the truth that it's not worth getting involved in ambition and busyness. It's not worth getting so busy trying to save the world from all possible catastrophes that we're not going to be effective. We recognize all kinds of things about how we are that are not a useful, good way of being, and to be patient with that—a patient acceptance of that—sometimes is the hardest form of patience. Because what we're working with now is being patient with these inner impulses we have that can be quite strong: the conditioning we have, the attachments we have.

To see that our attachments arise and have the patient acceptance of what's truer, so that we don't give in to our attachments. To see that delusions arise in our mind, biases arise in our mind, and to see it with clarity: that what's true is not giving in to them, not being caught in them. There can be a tug of war. It can be kind of like, "Wait a minute, this is how I've lived my life," or "I won't be safe if I don't act this way or react this way."

This patient acceptance of the truth goes deeper and deeper, and sometimes some of the deeper acceptances of truth have to do with beginning to really see how changeable, how inconstant, how impermanent this world that we have is. And that can be kind of frightening. We want some stability; we want to hold on to something. So the patient acceptance of not holding on, not clinging in the middle of this world of impermanence, can seem a little bit frightening.

But we've learned over time that it doesn't really work to cling. It doesn't really work to hold on tight. It doesn't really work to resist the changing nature of this reality we live in. It doesn't work to try to keep yourself young forever. At some point, we can't hold on or cling. We have to have patient acceptance that we're getting older. Patient acceptance of these basic human existential truths that we, at some point, are put very close to directly confront and meet. Patient acceptance that we're dying. Patient acceptance that there will be loss. Patient acceptance even with loss that there are ways of being that are simply not worth it, that the reactivity we would normally have is not useful or supportive, and we are being patient so we don't succumb to those ways of being.

In this way, what I'm pointing to is that we're learning to become our own reference point for practice. We're learning to recognize in ourselves what is valuable and what it's valuable to stay close to. So that when it's time, when we need to be patient with ourselves, it's because we know something valuable. We know something important and we've experienced it. We might lose touch with it, but our memory still says, "Wait a minute, I know that this reactivity I have is not the way forward. I at least need to be patient to not give into it."

The patient acceptance of truth is this acceptance that this is not worthwhile doing: "So I'm not going to say what I want to say, I'm not going to do what I feel compelled to do. I'm going to be patient with this." Occasionally, these acts of patience require a lot of effort. The pull to addictions can be so strong, the pull of desires, the pull of hostility, the pull that things have to be different and so it's okay to succumb to my anger.

One of the very interesting things to do in being patient and not giving into it is to feel the strong compulsion—sit and be quiet, maybe in meditation, maybe sit down in a chair—and feel the strong compulsions arise. They might come with a whole army full of lawyers that tell you you have to act, it has to be this way, but sit with it all, kind of like a rising wave, until the wave has crested and you find yourself on the back of the wave, and then decide what the wise thing is to do.

When you feel the compulsion to act or to speak, it's probably not the best time to do so, because with compulsion there is not wisdom, and you're not connected to something that you've learned is a valuable place to talk from or to act from—the valuable place of wisdom from which to participate in this world of ours.

This idea of being patient with compulsions because we know something to be truer and we accept that, so we don't act by the compulsion and then ride the wave until we find ourselves on the backside. In the middle of these compulsions, it can feel impossible to wait. It feels like it has to be now. But it's just a wave. Everything has its time. Everything has a half-life and will eventually pass away. To become confident in that truth—patient acceptance of the truth that all compulsions will pass, all attachments will pass if we allow them to. Learning how to be patient and not giving in to them is a gift for ourselves and the world.

So, patient acceptance of the truth. You might consider today: What have you discovered that is more important, that's more true, that you want to stay true to? What have you discovered that's true that teaches you what not to do, what not to say, what not to react to? Not because you're avoiding reacting or speaking that way as repression, but rather because you know the opposite is true—that you lose yourself in the reactivity, that what's most true about yourself is not found through that reactivity that can feel so compulsive.

What do you know? What have you discovered that's true, by which or for which it's useful to have patient acceptance?

Thank you. One more talk tomorrow on patience.