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Guided Meditation: Trusting Breathing

Greetings from IMC in Redwood City. I feel quite contented to sit here this morning and quiet already. It's our chance to discover how to be present for ourselves in a way that is supportive, perhaps supporting us with quietude, peacefulness, or clarity of the moment.

Assume a meditative posture, meaning a posture that supports your ability to be alert with embodied attentiveness. Be careful not to overemphasize relaxation or comfort, but also do not underestimate or undervalue their importance. Find that balance between being alert and attentive in the posture. You see that sometimes in animals or small children; there can be a relaxed, clear attentiveness. Sometimes you see it in the uprightness of the spine and the neck, and the clarity of intentional focus.

With a posture that's attentive and alert, quietly and calmly close your eyes. Perhaps breathe in more deeply than usual, maybe filling your lungs three-quarters full, so there is a real intentionality and renewed contact between you and the breathing torso.

After a deep inhale, take a long, gentle, and maybe tender exhale. Perhaps at the end of the exhale, allow for a release that extends the exhale a little longer. In this long exhale, release the whole body and relax the muscles. In a way, the alert, attentive body supports relaxation without giving up attentiveness. Relax deeply.

Then, let your breathing return to normal. Continue the process of releasing and relaxing the body on the exhale. Soften and relax the face, the forehead, the temples, around the eyes, and the cheeks. Relax the jaws by letting the upper and lower teeth fall a tiny bit apart from each other. On the exhale, soften and relax the shoulders. Maybe there's a small adjustment in the position of your hands that allows the shoulders to release a little bit more.

Soften on the exhale in your chest and around your heart. Sometimes, just relaxing on the exhale can also take the form of reassurance, allowing the tension and challenges of the heart to be there. It's okay.

Also, soften and relax around the belly. Soft belly, breathing in, breathing out. There is a little bit of effort involved in relaxing at the beginning. Recognize that effort and let go of it now. Let go and allow yourself to simply be aware of the body breathing. Remarkably, the body will breathe on its own without our needing to be involved. It often does that through the day and the night. Breathing is always there accompanying us, and now, for these minutes, allow your attention to accompany your breathing.

Think of breathing as a relaxed rhythm that frees you from your thinking, freeing you from being preoccupied, caught up, and involved in your thoughts. Your thinking might still go on in the background, but your attention, intention, and conscious involvement are with the rhythm of breathing in and breathing out. Ride and float on that rhythm and those sensations. Perhaps allow the thinking mind to get quieter and quieter as it becomes less necessary to think, because we are simply intimate with the experience of the body breathing.

It's okay—it's more than okay—to trust your breathing. Entrust yourself to just being with the experience of breathing. Let all other things be. Leave them alone. Let them be in the background if possible. If it's not possible to leave things in the background, see how simple you can be in your mindfulness of those things. Maintain the simplest possible awareness, all as a way of not being entangled with things.

As we come to the end of this sitting, recognize that sometimes in meditation we become quieter, calmer, more settled, or more open. In some way or another, we have shifted our state of mind or heart in a good direction. In those times when that happens, recognize that it gives us a different vantage point from which to care for and love this world. It provides a different perspective from which to be kind, friendly, and respectful to the people in our lives and the people we run into.

It is an opportune time to consider how to give expression to our care, love, respect, kindness, and generosity, wherever it is easy for it to be directed. Give some voice to the love, care, or friendliness that might arise out of, or be supported by, our meditative state. This can be done by simply expressing the classic words of loving-kindness and goodwill. Let those words somehow give voice to our care and our love as it comes out of our quiet.

May all beings be happy. May all beings be safe. May all beings be peaceful. May all beings everywhere be free. As we live our lives, may we contribute to that possibility. May we make the world a better place.

Second Arrows and Open Windows

It always feels like an honor to be with people, in this form and in other ways, to talk about the Dharma^[1]. I want to share not just the words of the Dharma, but a little bit of the experience of the Dharma. So, here we are.

I wasn't sure what topic to talk about today, partly because of what is happening nationally in the United States. It feels very close to where I practice the Dharma and what the Dharma is about. All the various challenges this country has seem very alive.

It is an impressive, and sobering, statistic that over the last month or so, there have been 45 mass shootings in this country; it seems to qualify as an epidemic. We have repeated violence against African Americans. Some of the videos are quite graphic, and it is painful to watch and see. Asian Americans are also the recipients now of hate and violence. We also have the Derek Chauvin trial, which is coming to a head this week. Who knows what direction the jury will go, but whatever direction they choose, it feels consequential for what will happen to this country.

These things are certainly on my heart and in my mind. I wanted to name them to acknowledge that they are present for me. As I talk about the Dharma today, maybe I am addressing these issues, though it will not be direct or entirely intentional. However, these issues are definitely close by for me.

I want to begin by talking about a famous analogy or parable that many of you have heard before: the teaching of the two arrows. I think this is such a profound and evocative teaching. As such, it is a kind of koan^[2], a wonderful Dharma question. The question is: What is the second arrow? Where is the second arrow?

The concept of the two arrows addresses the fact that painful things happen to us in our lives. There is plenty of that in this human life, and Buddhism does not deny that pain occurs. Some of that pain is physical, and some of it is emotional or psychological. This initial pain is called the first arrow.

The second arrow makes the pain worse, because being shot by two arrows is worse than being shot by one. The second arrow is what we contribute. It is the arrow that we shoot at ourselves, implying that there is a way in which we react and respond to the occurrences of our daily life that increases the amount of pain we experience.

The pain of the second arrow is what we call suffering. The fact that there is pain in the world is acknowledged; we allow it to be pain, and we do the best we can with it, as wisely as we can. However, the powerful and significant Buddhist concept of suffering, or dukkha^[3], is what happens with the second arrow. That is something we do to ourselves. So, the question is: what is that second arrow that we shoot at ourselves?

There are many things we do. For example, we might feel pain and, because of that, get angry and hostile. That hostility can be directed towards others who we think are responsible for our pain, or the hostility can be directed towards ourselves. Regardless of where the hostility is directed, the hostility itself is the second arrow. Certainly, if the hostility is directed towards oneself, that might feel like two extra arrows: the arrow of the hostility itself, and then what that arrow hits inside of us. If the hostility is directed outward at someone else, it still hurts the person being hostile. It is a way of shooting arrows at oneself while maybe also shooting arrows at someone else, causing them pain.

The second arrow might not initially be seen as an arrow. It can be a very strong desire where we latch onto and attach ourselves to things that we want. There is something about the squeeze and the holding on of intense desire—really wanting something—that actually feels painful if we are sensitive to what is going on. Through this desire, we are shooting a second arrow into ourselves. There is also jealousy, envy, and greed. There is a whole list of reactions we have that act as second arrows.

Conceit is considered to be a second arrow. This is the conceit where we latch onto and tightly hold an idea of "me, myself, and mine." We might think, "I'm special, I'm wonderful, I'm different than others." We compare ourselves to others, positioning ourselves as either better than or worse than them. Being very critical of oneself and holding a negative self-view is also a second arrow.

Certainly, life is difficult. This teaching about the two arrows doesn't deny the difficulty of life; it simply distinguishes between where the pain is and where the suffering is, between the first arrow and the second arrow. Regarding all these forms of conceit, the Buddha said he did not know of any concept of self, idea of self, or philosophy around who the self is that didn't bring on the second arrow. That's a powerful statement. It's not the same thing as denying there is a self; it's just that being wrapped up in the conceit of a self is a second arrow.

There are also second arrows related to getting wrapped up in opinions, views, philosophies, and politics. Insisting on being right and aggressively asserting one's views—even if the views are true and accurate—creates a second arrow. The attachment to those views is the second arrow.

When people practice mindfulness meditation, we become increasingly sensitive and better at recognizing these second arrows. People who don't have that sensitivity might not see that their hostility is hurting themselves. They might not see that attachment to pleasure, views, philosophies, politics, or conceit is an attachment that acts as a second arrow. This is because they are not attuned to where the pain is, where the contraction and hardness are, and where we get hurt so easily.

One of the challenges with these second arrows is that they often don't exist in isolation. A second arrow creates a kind of agitation that lives within us. Imagine if someone has an arrow stuck in them and someone else comes along and wiggles that arrow; it's going to hurt a lot more where it pushes into the skin. We have these second arrows embedded in us in such a way that people can come along and do or say things that shake and twist the arrow, making it increasingly painful.

The second arrows are often what stick out the most. As a result, they are what the world around us tends to hit first. The difficulties of the world, and what people say or do to us, will often hit the second arrow rather than something deeper inside of us, simply because the second arrows are protruding.

What I mean is that if we have the conceit that we are better than everyone else, that conceit is a second arrow. The slightest thing someone says to undermine or criticize that belief will threaten, hurt, and agitate that second arrow of conceit. If we are angry or hostile towards someone, or towards ourselves, any threat to that hostility—any attempt to dampen it or quiet it down—or any difficult event around us will vibrate against that hostility and irritate it further, making us more hostile.

With strong attachment or desire, many things can happen to threaten that attachment. Because it is threatened, it hurts even more. In each of these situations, the second arrow is sticking out so far that it becomes the very thing the world hits. When this happens, we start adding third and fourth arrows. The more arrows we add to ourselves, the more fragile we become. We become primed to be irritated and agitated, ready for all those arrows to be twisted deeper inside us. Therefore, it is very important to learn to recognize these second arrows.

One way to recognize them is through agitation. Second arrows always come with a degree of agitation. In fact, it might be fair to say that if you are agitated, there is a second arrow operating. The task of mindfulness is to discover what that second arrow is and to settle that agitation. One of the functions of meditation is to quiet the agitation enough so we can be more observant and see more clearly when agitation begins.

We practice not giving authority to the agitation, not getting swept away by it or taking it for granted. We don't want to assume, "Of course I'm agitated," or feel compelled to immediately react, run around, fix something, or be angry. Instead, when we are agitated, we want to stop and look.

When an unfortunate event occurs in the world and strikes our agitation—our second arrows—our response is very different than if the event were received in a peaceful, settled heart.

If the difficulties of the world, and what people say and do to us, are received in calmness and openness—without any second arrows or agitation—an amazing thing begins to happen. We can feel as if those things don't hook us, as if they go right through. It feels like there is a vast, empty space or transparency through which things simply occur.

Painful things are still known and felt as pain, but it feels like they are not lingering, being held onto, or getting stuck. The arrowhead hasn't embedded itself anywhere. There is a wonderful freedom in this, like a vast open window. A beautiful spring breeze can blow right through it. But also, if the neighbor kid throws a baseball at the window, it doesn't break any glass; it just goes right through. (Hopefully, there's nothing fragile in the living room!)

In my home, it wasn't so much the neighbor kids throwing a baseball from the outside; it was my kids throwing the baseball inside! If the window is open, the ball just flies out without breaking anything. When there are no second arrows, it's like all the windows are open. There is room in the heart and the mind to experience the challenges of this world.

We know we lack that room when we get agitated. We can have a lot of respect, care, and compassion for our agitation, but we must also recognize it for what it is: "Oh, this is agitation. I've heard about this in Buddhism. Agitation is the extra thing; it is the second arrow." We might think, "I don't know how this is a second arrow. It seems pretty natural and obvious. Of course you should be agitated in this circumstance! Everyone I've ever known gets agitated when these things happen. Isn't this just what human beings do?"

Yes, many people do get agitated in all kinds of ways. As a natural course of how they live their lives, many people shoot a lot of second arrows. But it is not necessary.

Knowing this shouldn't lead us to shoot another arrow at ourselves, thinking, "I'm a bad person because I'm agitated." Instead, we can use this knowledge to get curious. We can take the agitation as a strong encouragement to pay attention. Look and see what is going on here. Where is the second arrow?

Even though agitation might be a second arrow, I think it is actually very helpful to respect it and see it as representing what is important to us. The more agitated we are, the more it highlights our values, giving us a purpose and direction. When we are agitated, we know what to do: we can look inside. We can get curious, sit and meditate, get quiet, study, feel, and really get to the bottom of the agitation. We investigate what it is, settle the agitation, and see what happens next.

For example, if you are agitated about something in the world, getting caught up in that agitation is to miss a golden opportunity. Getting too involved in the second arrow we are shooting at ourselves prevents us from appreciating that the situation doesn't need our agitation, but it does need our attention.

Respecting agitation means treating it as a prompt. It is either a prompt to look inside more deeply, or it is a prompt that gives direction and purpose to look outward. It calls us to be intent and learn more. If you are agitated by a friend, maybe you need to talk to them and find out what is going on for them, really being present if it's appropriate.

If you are agitated about what is happening in the world, that agitation can give you a sense of purpose. You can decide to focus your attention on learning more about the issue. Don't rely solely on social media or even mainstream news articles. If you are agitated, the issue is important enough that you should get to the bottom of it. Do some research and really learn. If you simply continue to swim in the agitation and read news that only agitates you further, you aren't really studying the issue or working through it. Both of these approaches—looking deeply inward and looking intently outward—are ways of no longer living with the second arrow.

They are both ways to offer ourselves something different than simply twisting the second arrow deeper. They give us constructive action to take. Furthermore, these two approaches can be combined. We can look deeply inside, settle our agitation, and find out where we are attached. At the same time, we can look outward to study and learn about what is going on in the world. Even better, we can bring our focus to actually do something about it. Taking action, even if it is a very small thing, is sometimes a way of pulling out the arrow, or at least preventing it from getting twisted further.

A marvelous thing happens when we start to pull out these second arrows: there is less and less for the world to strike. There are fewer windows for the world to break in our hearts, and the heart becomes more and more open. We have to be very careful with these second arrows, because they are often the primary source of our pain and suffering.

It is not just the initial entry of a single second arrow that causes suffering. The continued twisting, striking, and rubbing up against them—actions performed both by the world and by ourselves—causes more and more suffering to arise.

Understanding the idea of second arrows reveals that a whole other way of living is possible. We can live as a large, open window. We can care about, be involved in, and respond to the things of the world. But when an event occurs—for example, when someone is angry with us—it is possible for that anger to simply pass right through the open window of our heart. By doing so, we can remain steadfast and present. We can look at the challenge, perhaps kindly, and really see what is happening. We can clearly observe the angry person without being hooked.

Sometimes, it makes angry people even angrier if they have no effect on us, and some people find that very satisfying! [Laughter] But I think what is more important is that if we don't react impulsively to people who are angry with us—or to the difficulties, challenges, and politics of the world around us—we can instead be motivated to be wise about the situation. We can see it more clearly, be curious, and turn to look directly at it. We can stay present with our eyes open, looking in that direction and asking, "What is this?"

Having an open heart—where nothing in the world can touch us because everything just passes right through—does not mean that we become indifferent. It simply creates more room for our wisdom, care, interest, love, and compassion to operate. These qualities—love, compassion, wisdom, and interest—are not second arrows. They do not stick out in a way that allows people to twist them and hurt us further.

Summary and Reflections

In summary, what I hope to offer you in this talk is the encouragement to get interested and curious about your second arrows. What are they? If you're a little bit like me, sometimes you will see clearly what they are, and sometimes you won't. You might feel a reaction and think, "What is the second arrow here? I think there's a second arrow, but what is going on?" Get curious.

Keep this inquiry at the forefront—maybe forever, but at least for this week. Talk to friends about it, journal about it, reflect on it, and meditate on it. Ask yourself: "What are my second arrows?"

In what way are these second arrows the very things that the world keeps twisting, turning deeper and deeper?

Thank you, everyone. Thank you for being here, and I hope you have a wonderful week. When you pull out your arrows, put them down. Don't put them back in your quiver. Put them down and retire them. Thank you.