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Reactive and Emergent Modes of Being

Good morning to all of you here at IMC, and warm greetings to those of you who are participating online via YouTube. It's nice that the people online are part of this community, and that the sense of who we are, practicing and meditating together, is inclusive of such a bigger circle of people than it used to be when it was just the people here. So, thank you.

One of the very interesting and important topics for people who do this practice is to consider what the source is within you for what animates you. Or to say it maybe in simpler terms, what are the motivations, what are the sensibilities from which you act in the world and live your life?

Sometimes I like the idea of where do you take up residence? Where do you live? What's the reference point for your values, for how you speak, for how you live your life?

In Buddhism, one of the powerful words we have is Dharma^[1]. One of the nice things about the word Dharma is that it's a word which is not limited to Buddhism. As far as I know, almost all Indian religions and Indian culture have this very strong reference to this term Dharma. I wouldn't be surprised if the word Dharma encompasses some of the overlaps, or some of the span, of what the English word spiritual might be, where spiritual isn't limited to just Buddhism or Christianity. Spiritual is something that people in different religions can all find some commonality or some residency in.

To take up residence in the Dharma, or have the Dharma be the source of what animates us, or this reference point for how we live our lives, involves a paradigm shift. It is a very radical reorientation of our life from where we usually live.

Where do we usually live? I don't want to speak for any of you per se, but some of the common places people live in is their fear. Their anxiety and fear is the place where they have taken up residency. Though they never assume that they've chosen that residency, in fact, it is so much of who they are that it animates them. It directs their thinking, their speech, and how they behave in the world.

For some people, it's their desires. What they want is so important; it is the reference point, the orientation for everything. For other people, their residency is their aversion—what they don't want. For other people, it's their confusion and uncertainty. They're grasping, trying to figure out what in the world is going on here and what they are supposed to do, and somehow that is the center of gravity.

For some people, it's conceit: some strong sense of "this is who I am," some role, quality, or characteristic. Part of the difficulty with conceit is that it's often animated by some of these other qualities: fear, desire, aversion, and confusion. That's what makes conceit sometimes problematic, when these others come in and make it much more complicated than it needs to be.

All these ways of being, taking up residence, are limited residences. Everyone is going to have a different way of feeling the difficulty of them or the shortcomings of them. I like very much the language of constriction. They're all constricting; they limit us.

One way where they're constricted and limited is that it constricts the range, the span of what we take in, what we include as part of our lived experience. If it's fear that is the residence we're oriented around more than anything else, maybe we are oriented around things that are threatening or potentially threatening.

If it's desire, it's the things that we want, and we're searching and looking for what we want. We come to IMC for a Sunday morning talk and think, "Where's the best seat? I want to sit in the nice seat. That's the seat where I sat before, that's what I want." Someone else comes, and it's like, "Let me sit in the right place. I don't want that place, I don't want that place, and by default I'm only left with this one." And so we don't see the situation as broad, filled with potential, filled with all kinds of other ranges of orientations to understand it. The perspective has gotten narrow.

In that narrowness and constriction, sometimes how we respond to the world around us is what we call in English being reactive. Something strikes us deep enough, or impacts us, or makes an impression deeply on us, and it strikes one of these residencies that I'm talking about. Those residencies will become reactive, upset, or activated in some strong way, sometimes so that we act impulsively.

Fear, desire, aversion, and confusion can lead to all kinds of behavior. People who are afraid can act very impulsively sometimes. Some people take up residency in how they're hurt, how they've been treated poorly or badly, and that's what they're oriented around. If somebody comes from the outside and touches that limited residence, or limited point of view in which we operate, it's very easy to want to protect ourselves, assert ourselves, cast blame, or try to fix something.

Of course, some of that can be healthy and appropriate. But if that's their orientation, their reactivity continues to restrict or constrict the range of how we see what we take in from the environment. It also constricts and limits the range of how we experience ourselves. The more reactive we are, the less we're in touch with the range of our humanity, the range of who we are and how we feel.

If we are living with anger or resentment all the time, then it's possible that there's no room for a capacity for goodwill, love, or friendliness. If we're living with desire as the primary orientation, and then react to frustrated desire, maybe there's very little room for a feeling of generosity, or tuning into people so we feel like we want to be generous to them. This is because the orientation, the way we take up residency, is in this desire and the reactivity of it. Sometimes the reactive mode becomes so strong that it's the reactivity that has been set in motion that becomes the place of residence where we live from.

What I'd like to propose is that living out of reactivity, living out of these residencies of anxiety, desire, aversion, and confusion, are places of heightened mental activity. They are places of alertness or alarm that I associate with living a life that's more on the surface. And so it doesn't allow us to drop below that surface to experience something that's deeper within us, which I associate with the Dharma.

If we're going to take up residency in the Dharma—some of you might not care for the metaphor of going deep. Another metaphor is an unrestricted, unconstricted way of being. The Dharma is a wide-open heart, a wide-open sensibility that is not limited in these ways. There's an unlimited quality to attention, to awareness, and how we are. Out of that Dharma, life is not a reactive life; we could say it becomes a responsive life. Those distinctions are often used and they're nice. But the language I like to introduce today is that there's the reactive way of living, and then there's the emergent way. The Dharma is something that emerges within us, rather than something that gets triggered by events of the world around us.

When we live a Dharma life, we take up residency in the Dharma. In a sense, residency in the heart presents something deeper where there is an arising of a response, an emerging of a response that has a very satisfying feeling. It doesn't necessarily have to do with conceit or "me"; it's a different residency entirely. To live in that place of the Dharma is to be available to something that is much broader, wider, deeper, and fuller than any of the constricted residencies that people commonly live by.

One of the metaphors that I like to borrow from the Buddha for this idea of emergence is that of a lake that's not being disturbed by rain coming in, not being disturbed by streams or rivers flowing into the lake, and there's no wind ruffling it. But there is an underwater spring in the middle of the lake that's bringing fresh water into it, and the fresh, refreshing water spreads out like a fountain throughout the whole lake, continually being renewed from its depths. This metaphor is used by the Buddha for what can happen when we're really absorbed in meditation. When we are absorbed enough in this practice, we're not living in the other residencies. We're not living in the places where the rain falls and agitates the water, or having streams coming in that are muddying the water. We're not operating from our reactivity, but we're allowing something deep inside to bubble up and appear.

The other metaphor that's also one of water that I like very much—pointing to the naturalness of all this—is when rain falls on the side of a mountain. If there's enough rain, the raindrops join together and create little trickles of water going down the side of the hill. The trickles join together and become teeny little streams, and streams become creeks, and brooks, and then rivers, and eventually you have something large that just keeps flowing down.

The naturalness is that it keeps flowing down. Sometimes if it comes to a lake and the lake is not full, it takes time to fill the lake, but once the lake is full it spills over the edge and down the mountain some more. If there's a big boulder, water will find a way around the boulder sooner or later, even if it has to fill up above it or go over the top. There's a naturalness that the water just keeps flowing, joining, and getting bigger and bigger until it comes down from the mountains onto the plains. In India, for the Buddha, it hits the Ganges plains, maybe joins the Ganges, and then goes out into the ocean.

The Buddha uses this analogy to say that as we take up residency in the practice, in the Dharma, there is a natural unfolding, deepening, filling, expanding, and flowing of our inner life. It has a naturalness to it that is distinct from any attempt we have to construct, to make, or to want to do these dharmic states that can arise. Things like mindfulness, joy, tranquility, happiness, and equanimity—all kinds of wonderful things can arise and flow. I associate it with Metta, Karuṇā, Mudita, and Upekkhā^[2]: goodwill, compassion, sympathetic joy, and equanimity. These also can arise from the bottom of the lake, surface, and flow through us.

These are the metaphors that the Buddha uses for this kind of emergence. I don't think there's a Pali word that is usually translated as "emergence," but there are a lot of words that the Buddha used for the arising and appearing of these things, as opposed to the making of them—the naturalness in which these things arise.

One of the very interesting distinctions that the Buddha makes that points a little bit to this distinction I'm making here between the reactive and the emergent is the distinction between spiritual and non-spiritual, or spiritual and worldly. Some people translated these two terms as carnal and non-carnal, which probably has very strong associations with certain Western ideas that maybe we don't want to be too associated with. But the literal meaning in the Pali is that the first one, sāmisa^[3]—carnal, non-spiritual, or worldly—literally means "of the flesh." That's why carnal can kind of work. And the other is nirāmisa^[4], which literally means "not of the flesh," or non-carnal.

How I understand it is the first—the non-spiritual, carnal, worldly, "of the flesh"—has to do with when experiences of the world touch us. It's that place where we're triggered, particularly through the five senses of eyes, ears, nose, tongue, and touch. If somebody comes along and we get a nice massage and we feel the pleasure of it, that pleasure would be considered "of the flesh," a worldly pleasure or a non-spiritual pleasure. There is nothing wrong with that pleasure. Buddhism doesn't negate the value of it, but it's coming from the outside and stimulating our nerves—literally on the surface.

The "not of the flesh," this spiritual aspect, is part of what can emerge from deeper within. It is this flowing of the spring that can come. One of the primary associations with this "not of the flesh," this dharmic flow, is joy and happiness, but there are other qualities as well: confidence, peacefulness, brightness, a sense of purity. There are all kinds of things we can feel from this place. Exactly how we feel it and are with it depends on individuals, circumstances, and time.

But what I associate it with is being available to the world, being available to ourselves. It is a capacity for attentiveness, for attention that's not restricted, not defined by the different residencies we take up that limit us and constrict us where we have a preoccupation or perspective that we always bring. Rather, the attentiveness is more open and available, without an agenda, without a lot of presuppositions, preconceived ideas, or bias.

It's developing this capacity to be centered and present so that we're not leaning ahead of ourselves into the future, into things, and not pulling back or closing down. We are opening up, relaxing into, settling into, taking up residency in a place that is unlimited. It represents something deep, where there's space to feel this life of ours in a deeper way. It is a place where there's space to allow some deeper motivation to animate our life, to guide our life, to feel our life.

I associate this with the Dharma. To take up residency in the Dharma, and then to trust it, rather than trusting or having faith in the reactive places we can take up residency—the reactive places where desire exists, frustration exists, or aversion exists. Not all forms of desire are problematic; it's taking up residency in it that is. Not all forms of aversion are problematic; it's taking up residency in them so that it limits the scope of our attentiveness and our availability for this world, for being here.

While the Buddha associates it with things like joy and happiness—these beautiful qualities—where it really gets tested, and where I find it most powerful, is when I'm uncomfortable, when things are challenging and difficult. To then be available, to sit in this place where the emergence happens, where things can bubble up and appear in a context that doesn't feel comfortable.

We have to learn how to trust this place when we're uncomfortable. When we are uncomfortable, it's very easy for the reactive mind to want to fix it, to cast blame, to feel like something is wrong here. There are judgments, stories, ideas, and impatience to be there. And then we think, "It can't be right. This is supposed to be the Dharma world that I'm in. I'm supposed to be riding on the clouds, being good, feeling right, and everything is fine." Occasionally that might happen, but plenty of our life is uncomfortable. The world we live in is where trusting this deeper place, the dharmic place, is really significant and really helpful.

To take up residence there, to trust that more than the reactivity, is an area of tremendous growth and tremendous challenge. You'll probably find in yourself strong arguments: "This can't be right. I can't just be here and be available for this. I have to be angry. I'm supposed to get something I wanted, I have to have something else happen." There's a strong pull into what I call the reactive world, backing up into this place where things are more superficial, where the activated mind is easily activated and reactivated over and over again.

The art of it, the practice of it, is to discover the dharmic dimension, the non-reactive place within where the wellsprings, the naturalness of things, can exist even when we're uncomfortable. We stay in that and breathe with it. We take our time with it and become available. "I'm uncomfortable, but I can be available for now, for this. Let's see what happens if I'm available," as opposed to rushing in with the reactivity of, "Right now it needs to be different."

This emergent place where things emerge doesn't mean that we're just sitting patiently waiting for something to happen, and five minutes later the rice is burning on the stove because "there's something wrong here and I'm just going to be available and see what emerges." The emergence inside of us can act quickly sometimes. It can act forcefully sometimes. But it's a very different place to live than this reactive place.

So where do you take up residency? I'm using this language of residency today as an alternative to another way I could have talked about it, which is maybe more confusing or problematic sometimes, and that is: where do you create an identity? What do you identify with as "this is who I am"? Rather than talking about identity—which leads to questions like, "Well, I'm supposed to be somebody, aren't I? How can I not be anything?"—we ask, "Where do you take up residency? Where do you live?" I like it because it involves, even though it might be unconscious, some kind of choice that we've made. And maybe we can make a different choice.

Being able to make a different choice becomes possible at some point, I hope, as we practice more and more. As we meditate, or show up for our life with mindfulness, care, and compassion, we get a stronger feeling. We have a stronger knowing that there is an alternative way of living, an alternative way of showing up for the world that's not centered on conceit. We don't take up residency in "this is who I am," where everything has to fit into my desires, or I have to fit into everything the world wants. It's taking up this place that is not you, but is found within you. I love this kind of language. It's not something apart from you, but it's not you; it's within you. We don't take up residency in an identity, we don't take residency in claiming something as mine.

That's one of the reasons I find it valuable to associate it with the Dharma. It's the Dharma. The Dharma knows, the Dharma is responding. I can trust and take refuge in this Dharma so that I don't appropriate it for "me, myself, and mine." I can be available in an unlimited way and open to possibilities. Not constricted, not coagulated, not restricted, but a place where attentiveness, care, love, and awareness flow or are open and available. Like a spring in a lake, fresh water might flow up into all the places where we're uncomfortable, all the places that are challenging. It actually can flow into the places where we are restricted, where we are identified and caught.

A wonderful and important part of Dharma practice is to discover this other residency. Not in opposition or as a complete substitute for the old residencies, but as a perspective with which to begin investigating and seeing the reactivities we have, the places where we keep taking up residency or acting from that are not healthy for anyone.

So there's the reactive side of us, and there's the emergent side of us. As we do this practice, we begin to discover an alternative to the reactive mode of being, discovering the emergent mode. What emerges from the Dharma, what emerges from the spiritual, from that which is "not of the flesh" in a sense, that which is deeper within us, flows like a spring in a mountain lake.

I hope this gives you something to think about. I hope you practice with something to investigate, to look and see where in your life what I've talked about today you can identify, see, and discover. Maybe at some point over the next week you might have the occasion to be reactive to something. Rather than brushing it off—it's good to respect our reactivity—maybe you can try to meet it in a different way. The emerging side, the available side, the place where there's a kind of openness, just being sensitive to what is, can open and meet the places of reactivity in a new way. What's that like for you? What happens then?

Thank you. We have a little bit of time if some of you would like to ask a question or comment about this. A testimonial, or a reservation about it all, anything else.

Q&A

Speaker 1: I really enjoyed your talk. These are wonderful points to live by. I just wanted to mention that when you are in a grip of fear, which seems at the time to be profound and engulfing, and you want to work your way out of that, I found I had this problem last year over a period, and the consequences were pretty serious. Instead of being in the grip of fear, I laid out a plan for myself. That plan really helped me to get out of the fear and be more at peace with the issue, how to approach it, and an end point potentially for the issue that was at hand. I found that to be useful, just at the very minimum coming up with a plan, being proactive about how I deal with this.

Gil Fronsdal: Great, I love it. What I hear from that is that it's possible to step out far enough from fear and off the grip of fear and operate from a different place. One of the different places is to sit down with a piece of paper and pen maybe, and make a plan, and consider what the alternatives are. You can't make a plan in the middle of a crisis, but maybe ahead of time you could think about some options, and then live with that plan. It sounds like a wonderfully wise way. Thank you.

Sometimes in my life when I've had some kind of personal challenge that really troubled me, knowing how to step out of the reactive mind, how to not have the usual way of thinking always be the way that we live in the world, is difficult. This is especially true if the usual way of thinking is like second nature. It's like the fish doesn't see the water that they swim in; we don't necessarily see the thinking that we live in and don't really see what goes on.

So when I've been troubled by some things, occasionally what I've done is gone someplace where I was alone, like driving a car, and spoken out loud. I find that when I speak out loud, it's actually speaking from a different place within me than where I think from. There's access to different wisdom, different understanding, different perspectives, different attitudes, different care. It's different enough. If I'm only thinking about things all the time in my thoughts, I'm actually limiting the scope and the range of how I can consider something. So if any of you ever find yourself troubled and want a new perspective, you might try finding a place where you're alone, or at least have earbuds in so people think you're on the phone. [Laughter]

This is building on what you said: this ability to sit back and plan is also maybe calling on a different part of the brain, a different part of the mind, than just the usual thinking.

Speaker 2: Great talk, thank you so much. Was such a beautiful talk and I have never heard those two words coupled: emergent and reactive. One thing I was thinking about just now about where a person takes up residence is—I follow on YouTube, and I listened to your talks last week about the different bodies. I just wondered if it would be possible for you to speak about that a little bit again, particularly the karmic body? And then the intersection between emergence—the "you" that's not your identified self—and your residency.

Gil Fronsdal: Yeah, so I very much associated the karmic body, or karmic activity, as being the reactive. The word karma^[5] means activity or action. So it kind of works with reactivity or reaction. It's the actions which reverberate, or repeat themselves, or come from some place that leaves a trace. Karma is the actions that we do. I like "activity" sometimes because it's not always so conscious. It's the ones that leave a trace, the ones that trigger more things to occur, and on and on.

The emergent doesn't automatically require or trigger ongoing activity to be there; it can exist without leaving a trace. So last week when I talked about the five kinds of body, the last four were the emergent qualities of the body. So the second half of your question about identity, what was that?

Speaker 2: In a way you almost just answered it. It was about the intersection of—you said to try to be with it when you're uncomfortable, to not shut down. How to sort of note your own residency, in so much as it's even possible to know your own residency. Did I understand you to say that your residency is thwarting your emergence?

Gil Fronsdal: It's a great question. I'm not sure I have a good answer for you that it deserves, but the one that I prefer is that all this becomes known as you keep practicing mindfulness. Just keep practicing mindfulness. Let your mindfulness become stronger and developed. Develop a skill or capacity to be uncomfortable—or to be comfortable, as some people have trouble feeling joy, whatever it might be. Become familiar with yourself more and more, so you start seeing the inflection points between what brings stress and what brings the opposite of stress.

The more you do that, the more you'll start reading the book in your body of what points towards the emergent and what points to the reactive. The real practice is just to keep studying yourself, being present, seeing, and learning.

Because I talked about the emergent quality in a nice way, it's so easy for the response to come from a reactive place. "Okay, now that's what I'm going to do. I'm going to take up residency in doing that. I'm going to be the one who's emergent." That's not it either. This is something that begins to arise, to surface, and become clear. It is something we trust and rest in as we know ourselves better and better, and as we know the difference between these different modes.

I'm using the modes of reactive and emergent today. Another mode that's related is skillful and unskillful, wholesome and unwholesome. There are all these different terms, but the recipe is to understand yourself better. Is that okay? Great, well thank you.

Announcements

The last few weeks I've been here we've had a meeting out in the parking lot for those people who want to stay. It's been really lovely, taking off the masks and just sitting in a circle and talking. Unfortunately, I can't stay today because I'm going to the retreat center to be there early today to help set up for the retreat that starts today. However, I encourage those of you who want to do it today. Hillary will be there, and Hillary will facilitate some discussion and just sharing amongst yourselves. It's nice to hang out a little bit with each other. So if you want to bring up a folding chair and bring it out to the parking lot, that would be quite nice.

Because I'm doing this retreat, I won't be here next week. Next week, a longtime IMC practitioner and person who does a lot of teaching here for us, Maria Straatmann, will come and give a talk. People love her talks when she comes here, so I think you're in good hands. Thank you very much.