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Difficulties

Good evening again. For those of you who were also here for the guided meditation, a second good evening for you.

As we follow this path of practice, as we begin to meditate, as we begin to learn more about the Buddhist teachings, it might seem that our difficulties, our sufferings—and tonight I'll use this word suffering just as a generic word to represent a really broad range, from just tiny, mild little things to really awful experiences. I'll use the word suffering or difficulties to encompass this whole range. And as we begin a meditation practice, we might notice it seems like maybe our difficulties or our sufferings are seeming to increase, because we are no longer hiding from them or hiding from ourselves. It may seem that there are more and more difficulties, and we might have this feeling like, "Wait, this is going the wrong direction," as we become more sensitive and more tuned in to our experience. But I'm sure everybody has discovered, or will discover if they haven't already, that along with this increased sensitivity is also an increased capacity to be with things that are uncomfortable, as well as an increase in the number of tools—the ways we have to work with things that are difficult or uncomfortable.

So when we set out to awaken, to become free, to find greater happiness and ease in our life, of course we're going to encounter unexamined conflicts we might have within ourselves, our fears, maybe some confusions we have, some unfinished business of the heart, some limitations we might have. And to see this alone can be difficult—the difficulty itself. But just acknowledging this in ourselves—I don't know who said this, I don't remember, but this idea that greater self-knowledge is rarely good news, right? The more that we understand ourselves, we start to see some of our unskillful ways that we show up, or some of these repetitive or habitual reactions we have to difficulties that aren't so helpful.

And as we quiet ourselves in meditation, these habits—sometimes some of the habits we don't even recognize because they're so habitual, and it's not until the mind is quiet and we bring our attention to them that we start to see how often we are complaining about the mild things, about the big, really difficult things. How often we are complaining or blaming. I know I've done my share of both complaining and blaming, and I wasn't even aware how much I was doing it until I spent some time with somebody who complained more than me. And I was noticing like, "Wow, this person is complaining about everything!" And then somehow it really highlighted for me, "Oh yeah, I'm doing an awful lot of complaining myself." Sometimes we don't even notice. So when we have difficulty, we might have some blame, or frustration, or maybe a sense of failure, or our inner critic might get really loud. And then of course we want to do some other behaviors to remove that difficulty, that uncomfortableness, and then we find ourselves just running from uncomfortableness to uncomfortableness, just trying to find some ease.

Of course, every life has periods and situations of great difficulty. It's not possible, I don't believe, to have this human experience and to not have some suffering, some hard times. They show up in different ways. And maybe on some scale, there are things that are more relatively difficult than others. But in some ways it doesn't matter; it activates our wish to be away from them or to complain or blame others or blame ourselves, whatever our habitual reactions might be.

There are two kinds of difficulties. Some are just clearly problems to solve, and there are actions we can do to take care of it. But many more are problems that we're creating for ourselves in the way that we are wishing things to be different. We are struggling to make life different, to make ourselves different, to make our experience, our environment around us different, somehow not allowing what actually is to be there. Not that we have to accept injustices and terrible wrongs, but there are so many things that just don't match our preferences, and so we're trying to make things difficult. So two types of difficulties: some that really require some action and some movement, some behavior, whether it's literal or figurative; and some that, just by the way in which we are reacting to them, our relationship to them, we're turning them into problems, and maybe they don't have to be problems.

So when we can begin to find freedom in the everyday circumstances of our life, we see some of these difficulties as places of practice, of course. When we encounter these things that are uncomfortable or don't match our preferences, we can ask ourselves: How are we responding? Do we run away? Do we allow fear or doubt to overcome us? Do we feel like we're being put upon in some kind of way by others or by fate? And how can we start working with difficulties in a way that is helpful and supportive?

Often we only see two ways to work with them. One is to suppress them or deny them, and we try to fill our lives with light or beauty or something other than what's actually here, some ideal situation. There can be times in which this is skillful. But in the long run, we find that this doesn't work. I think all of us have used this or tried this to some extent, and that is if we try to suppress some of our difficulties, our emotions, our reactions, the disappointment or the fear or the anger. If we're always trying to suppress it, we all discover that it shows up in another way. Suppression doesn't really make things go away; it just allows it to pop up in some kind of way. So it's not a long-term strategy if we want to have some stable way to find some freedom and happiness. That's one way we might respond.

Another way is maybe the opposite: to just let all our reactions out and just be loudly and incessantly complaining or insisting that everything be different, and always changing it, or blaming others, or demanding that things be different, or be very energetic or vocal in the way that we are responding to what's happening. We can act out all of our feelings, our dislikes, and our opinions and agitations. And if we do this, we'll discover that this will just grow and grow until it becomes actually quite tiresome, and that our reactions themselves become a source of difficulty. We become overwhelmed by them, and we find them really difficult and painful and confusing.

So of course the third alternative is to turn towards our difficulties. This is what the Buddhist path offers us: to turn towards the difficulties and take what we believed were obstacles to our happiness, obstacles to our well-being, and somehow turn them into vehicles to well-being, to happiness. I heard this expression from Jill Shepherd^[1] first, to turn our obstacles into vehicles, and I think it's lovely. It's lovely to think about. So often we have this idea that something that's in the way, we have to get rid of it, we have to obliterate it, we have to destroy it in some kind of way. But instead, to turn it into a vehicle, can we transform it? Maybe somehow put some wheels on it. Maybe it's still the same big giant boulder, but now it can be pushed a little bit. And in the pushing, we build up some strength. I can come up with all kinds of crazy ideas, but this idea of turning obstacles into vehicles—so much of the Buddhist path is about this. Even though we might have this idea that all these difficulties are subverting us or making it so that we can't be on the path, and "I'll be able to meditate or find more freedom as soon as I take care of this unfortunate experience or unfortunate situation."

I think it was Thich Nhat Hanh^[2] that said, "No mud, no lotus." The idea that lotus flowers, these beautiful, beautiful flowers, they grow out of the mud and through the water, and through the mud, and then they arise. And they need the mud. That's a part of how they come into being. And of course, the lotus flower is often a symbol of awakening. So no mud, no lotus. When we are faced with stress or loss or conflict, is there a way that we can turn towards them?

Jack Kornfield^[3] tells the story of the poison tree, which I also like very much, and I find myself bringing it to mind when I'm having some difficulties myself. Is there a way that I can use the teachings in a creative way? The story of the poison tree is that on first discovering a poison tree, some people see its danger. Their immediate reaction is like, "Okay, this is poisonous. Let's cut this down before we get hurt. Let's get rid of this tree before other people get hurt, before anyone eats this poisoned fruit." And this might be a particular initial response that we might have when we see or encounter aggression or compulsion or greed or hatred inside of ourselves. We might have this idea: we have to excise it, we have to remove it. "I have to get rid of this. I have to cut down this poisonous tree so that it doesn't have poisonous fruit." So our initial response is to avoid them, saying we have to get rid of them.

But there are other people who perhaps have journeyed further along in this spiritual path—in some ways maybe "further along" isn't the right way to think about it—maybe who have access to a little bit more openness or spaciousness at that moment when they are encountering some of this aggression or compulsion or greed or hatred that they find in themselves. And again, I'm using these words greed and hatred as generic words. In the Buddhist teaching, these are the unwholesome roots^[4] that give rise to so many different forms that may be really subtle and may be really strong. So maybe it's not hatred, but maybe it's this ill will or lack of openness. And maybe it's not greed, but it's this desire and always wanting more, always wanting more.

Some other time, the same person or some other people, they encounter this poisonous tree, and they have realized that to open to life requires a deep and heartfelt compassion for all that is around us. These people might say, "Well, let's not cut the tree down. Instead, let's have compassion for the tree as well." So out of kindness, they build a fence around the tree so that we won't go and eat the poisonous fruit, and others won't go and eat this poisonous fruit, and so that also the tree may have its life, rather than being cut down. It's allowed to have its poisoned fruit, but there's just a fence that's being put around it. This is a profound shift in our relationship to difficulties. Instead of this feeling that we have to get rid of it, it's like, "Okay, can we open to it and be with it with some open-heartedness and create the conditions in which it's no longer poisonous or harmful to us or to others?"

And then there's a third type of person who sees the same tree—and maybe it's the same person at a different time—and says, "Oh, a poison tree. Perfect! Just what I was looking for." And this individual picks the fruit, investigates its properties, mixes it with some other ingredients, and uses this poison as a great medicine to heal the sick and transform the ills of the world. Through respect and understanding, this person sees in a way that's opposite to many people, and maybe opposite to many of our first initial reactions with difficulties. This person finds value in the most difficult circumstances. This person is able to make a vehicle out of an obstacle. So this again is another profound shift in which we might be with some of the difficulties that we find in our lives.

In the story of the poison tree, I talked about compassion, and of course, allowing compassion to arise when we face suffering—compassion for ourselves, compassion for others. Compassion is not the same thing as pity or sympathy or empathy, as many of you know. Compassion is one of the Brahma-vihāras^[5], one of the warm-hearted teachings, loving-kindness teachings. Compassion is when there's this warm-heartedness, loving-kindness, a sincere wish for goodwill, for benevolence and care. And when this sincere wish meets suffering, then that sincere wish includes the wish for this suffering to end. Compassion is born out of a love and a care, and it's coupled with a sense for the difficulty to end. So one way to react to difficulties is with compassion.

Another way is to use this suffering as an opportunity to bring to mind, to use the perspective of the Four Noble Truths^[6]. Many of us know that the Four Noble Truths is one of the key Buddhist teachings, that is the teaching that there is suffering, the First Noble Truth. There is a cause for suffering, the Second Noble Truth. There is the ending of suffering, the Third Noble Truth. And the Fourth Noble Truth: there is the path leading to the ending of that suffering.

We can use these as perspectives for everything that we encounter, so that when we are discovering that, "Oh, here's a difficulty," this is the First Noble Truth. Rather than running away, we can align, like, "Yes, it's no surprise. This is what it means to have the human experience as suffering. It has difficulties." And if we want to suffer less, it helps to notice when we are suffering. It's too easy to be distracted by our suffering, with our preoccupations, or it's really easy to bounce off as soon as we encounter any difficulty and to not really even notice all the ways that we're ricocheting around or trying to distract ourselves. We may find ourselves doing some unskillful things, and of course these don't get rid of suffering. They just cover it up, and of course it shows up again.

So it's useful to discover what is underneath the suffering. What are some of the attachments, what are some of the clingings that are supporting the suffering? When we encounter suffering, can we use this perspective to look like, "Okay, I'm having a difficulty. What clinging, what attachment am I not seeing? What holding on am I not aware of?" Often, if it's not obvious, the clinging is a view. A view about how things should be, or perhaps a view about how we think we should be. Can there be a softening or lightening of these views so that we can begin to let go of them? Instead of holding on so tightly, maybe we can notice them and hold them provisionally. Like, "You know, this view makes sense to me, but now I wonder if this is what's causing my suffering." Or maybe it's clear once we notice, but maybe it's a habit to have this view. So can we just soften? Instead of thinking this is the absolute truth, to say something like, "Well, this is my current thinking, this is my current understanding right now, this is what makes sense to me," instead of having a sense that this is the absolute truth and I have to hold onto this.

The Third Noble Truth, of course, reminds us that it is possible to let go of these attachments, the ones that are underlying suffering. That is possible. And the Fourth Noble Truth, the Eightfold Path, points to there's a way to help with this, to support this letting go, this lessening of our attachments. As we practice with this, with having this perspective of the Four Noble Truths when we encounter difficulties—whether they are really large ones or really small ones—maybe with this we start to gain a little bit more confidence. We start to gain a little bit of balance in the face of suffering or difficulties.

So then when some suffering arises and we're able to turn towards it, even if it's just for a moment to recognize, "Okay, this is difficult and I'm starting to feel overwhelmed, so maybe I'm just going to turn towards it a little bit and then turn away." But do it in a skillful way, an intentional way, as opposed to trying to suppress it or avoid it or distract ourselves. There might be some confidence that grows from when we are encountering some of this suffering. This recognition that maybe some of this confidence comes from, "Yes, I might have this particular form of difficulty right now, but there's this universal suffering that all living beings have." And maybe this appreciation can be a type of gladness. This confidence can give rise to gladness. That is, knowing that there is a practice. It doesn't mean it's easy, it doesn't mean it's fast and quick, and it doesn't mean it's what we were hoping for, but there's something about just knowing that there's a path of practice that can be uplifting. With this confidence there can be a real sense of appreciation. And this sense of appreciation of like, "Okay, there's a practice, and there can be a way in which we engage with this practice in an uplifting way."

In the Buddhist teachings, the suffering leads to confidence or faith. And this faith or confidence leads to gladness, a kind of an appreciation. This gladness leads to joy, this uplifted engagement with the practice, a kind of an energetic way in which there's a certain delight in knowing that there's a practice and starting to practice with this. Maybe a sense of relief and energetic uplift, knowing that there is a practice for the end of suffering, and to really be engaged with it. And then with this really engaging with the practice, the mind is no longer really thinking about all the difficulties, not obsessed with it in the same way, and the body can start to find some ease. There might start to be a little bit more tranquility in the body. And this tranquility might pervade the mind, it might create the conditions in which there is a real sense of well-being, as contentment.

So this cascade can happen that starts with suffering. We turn towards it, and there's a little bit of confidence. And then there can be some appreciation that there is a practice. There's gladness, and there can be an energetic engagement with the practice. And there's kind of this uplift, some joy; there could be some tranquility in the body, some ease, which leads to some happiness in the mind, a real just sense of well-being and contentment. And this of course creates the conditions for concentration. For the mind and the body to be unified and settled and collected. When the mind is concentrated, settled, unified, collected, that creates the conditions in which we can see things more clearly. We can see things as they are. And we can see that what we were chasing after, thinking that was going to make us happy, actually isn't a source of lasting happiness. This can be some disenchantment, some no longer being under the spell. And then with that can be some fading away of the attachment. Where there's some disenchantment, it just doesn't make sense to hold on as tightly, and so of course there's some fading away of attachment until it fades away and there's a complete letting go of the attachment. Then there's a freedom, a liberation.

After liberation, the freedom is letting go of attachment, there's the knowledge of freedom, the knowledge of liberation. A recognition of what we are free from and a recognition of the way in which that freedom was found, discovered, arose, a way in which that freedom came about. This knowledge is so important; it can really help us for all the other times that we find ourselves with suffering.

With difficulties, there are so many different ways that we might meet it: with compassion, with taking the perspective of the Four Noble Truths, or initiating this cascade of liberative dependent arising^[7], is one way it's described, of these twelve steps that go from suffering and lead directly through gladness, joy, tranquility, happiness, concentration, seeing things as they are, and then to liberation. In this way, these obstacles can become vehicles all the way to freedom. With this knowledge of freedom, we can help others, we can support others and help them with their difficulties.

Thank you.