Forgiveness and the Dalai Lama

Today's news carries the headline that the Dalai Lama announced his intention to step down as the political leader of Tibet, creating an opportunity for Tibet to transition to a new political leadership during his lifetime.  This comes after China proclaimed the Dalai Lama had no authority to choose his own successor and that the next Dalai Lama must be selected through a Chinese approved reincarnation.  Not only would this give China control over the next Tibetan leader, but it would also provide a time gap in political leadership for the Tibetans. 

The differences between the Tibetan and Chinese points of view have been going on for decades, since China invaded Tibet.  Fifty-two years ago today, in 1959, the Dalai Lama fled his country and began living in exile in India.  He has continued to lead his people from his new home in Dharmsala.  When other Tibetans leave Tibet, they go there first.  The Dalai Lama has met with many of them and has heard the firsthand stories of what has happened to his people and his country.  He has negotiated with China regarding their treatment of Tibet and has become a spokesperson for his country in the international community.

Yesterday my post was a quick entry about forgiveness and happiness.  My mind was on forgiveness, so when I read the news today about the Dalai Lama, my thoughts immediately went to the strong example of forgiveness he has shown the world.  In spite of all the damage that has happened to his country, he refuses to hold anger toward the Chinese.  He practices forgiveness toward the government of China and toward the people who have carried out Chinese orders.  In his book, Ethics for a New Millennium, he tells a story about a Tibetan monk who had been in prison, mistreated and tortured, for many years.  When the monk was released from prison, he went to India and reunited with the Dalai Lama.  He was serene and gentle even after all he had endured.  The Dalai Lama asked him if he had been scared and he replied that he had indeed been afraid of one thing--that he would lose compassion for those who imprisoned him. 

The Dalai Lama is a proponent of compassion as a means to happiness.  He says patience, forbearance, empathy, and forgiveness are components of this. 

"The appropriate response to someone who causes us to suffer...is to recognize that in harming us, ultimately they lose their peace of mind, their inner balance, and thereby their happiness.  And we do best when we have compassion for them..." (Ethics for a New Millennium, p. 107). 

In spite of all he's gone through in his life, the Dalai Lama is a truly happy person.  He is quick to smile and exudes a feeling of joy and peace through his presence. I consider him as much an authority on happiness as anyone I can think of.  He's an inspiration and a powerful teacher and I am grateful he has come onto the world stage.

The Root of Happiness

Today I found happiness in my relationships, in yoga class, in being alive.  Something each of these has in common is that I've brought forgiveness to all of the experiences.  Forgiveness of myself, of others, and of this thing we call life.  Perhaps forgiveness lies at the root of all happiness.

It is Written??

I used to get agitated when I thought of pre-determination.  It made me angry to think of the possibility that the events in my life bound to happen regardless (or in spite) of me.  "What's the point of even living," I thought, "if it's already determined?"  I was a free-willer for sure. 

That said, I suppose I never fully trusted the notion of free will.  For example, when the new age ideas of manifesting reality gained popularity, I recall thinking it was a little crazy to manifest my reality.  If I manifested what I had in mind today as the best possible outcome, I might be missing something I didn't even know about.  Or worse, I might be missing out on "what I was supposed" to be doing.  I suppose I wasn't such a free-willer after all.

Being distrustful of both pre-determination and free will, where am I left? I don't know if it's a sign of the times, an effect of getting older, or just a change of perspective, but lately, I take solace in the idea of destiny.  When I look back at what I could consider my mis-steps in life, I can get self critical.  I can wonder why I hadn't learned certain lessons by then or doubt my judgment in the situation.  When I think that perhaps all these things were destined to happen, that they were part of my life plan, it eases those criticisms.  Then the questions become "How well did I handle that situation?" instead of "Why in the world did I get myself into that situation?"  It opens me up to exploring if I was as loving as I could have been, if I learned something, if I deepened my relationships to self or others.  I like thinking of predetermination as a way to reframe the way I look at my behavior.  Perhaps it's not such a bad idea after all.

Mental Activity

For a totally non-original post, I'm gonna repeat something interesting I heard over the weekend:

Ordinary mind is the everyday state of mind where we have many disconnected thoughts running through our minds.

Contemplation is the state where thoughts are directed to one particular topic.

Concentration is the state of having just one thought.  Like focusing on a mantra, image, etc.

Meditation is the state of having no thoughts.

Harlan County USA--Full Length Documentary

This documentary doesn't have a lot to do with my themes of spirituality, simplicity, and emotional well-being, but with the labor questions in our country today and with my Appalachian heritage, I decided to post this American classic as Sunday's movie.

Long Time Sun Video

Saturday's featured video:

Doubt, part 4

At this stage in my life, I'm trying to do exactly what someone mentioned in yesterday's comment section--bring acceptance to my doubts.  I've recognized that getting caught up in doubt doesn't make me happy, but being caught up in certainty doesn't either.  It's in my nature to question and explore; I'm always digging for a deeper understanding of what I encounter.  It's pretty painful not it accept a common aspect of my personality, and I don't want to bring myself that grief! 

When I allow myself to have my doubts unharrassed, I discover that they are thoughts, just thoughts.  They aren't an indication of who I am at my core, and with proper perspective, they don't run my life or make decisions for me.  I learn that each doubt has a diffferent nuance.  Under some doubts is a yearning for truth or deeper meaning.  Some doubts reflect the need to do something differently; they show me where I'm thinking or doing something that's just not right for me.  Other doubts point out buried emotions like fear or anger. 

This practice of being with doubt is actually just like so many other healing processes in my life.  It's acceptance and appreciation of something that I originally found objectionable, sitting with the feelings that arise, and discovering the resource that's available at the core.  There's another realm that doubt can lead me to.  It's not a realm of the mind, but of the spirit.  In my essence, I find a calm knowing.  This knowing isn't the rigid certainty of mind but a strong, peaceful expansive state.  It's a state that can allow the doubting thoughts to subside, but more importantly, it can coexist with the doubts without contradiction.  Knowing is in my soul while doubt is in my mind.  What a relief to recognize that knowing isn't a matter of changing the mind from doubt, but rather opening to a different aspect of myself. 

This understanding can help me to stop identifying with the doubts as if they define me.  I'm the first to admit, when I'm wracked by doubt, it's really hard to get to the place of inner knowing.  That's why I'm making a point to cultivate and recognize the deep knowing of my being in times of relative calm.  The more connected I am to this quality, the more it supports me when I find my mind unsure and confused.  It gives me an fighting chance at being compassionate toward myself when I'm full of doubt and that is perhaps the greatest gift of it all.

Doubt, part 3

Sometimes I wish I was a person with strong beliefs.  I fantasize how much easier my life would be if I didn't have doubt.  I think people with certainty are happier.  I think they are stronger.  I think they are more peaceful.   Because my doubts range from the bigger questions of spirituality to the worldly questions of what I should be doing with my life, it seems as if I spend a lot of time bumping up against the issue of doubt. 

Actually, I can recall a period in my life when I wasn't struggling with doubt.  I was one of the most certain people I have known.  I knew I was right about pretty much anything.  When I engaged in "discussions," it was all about proving my point instead of learning something new.  Ugh!  Now that was miserable!  My rigidity translated itself into my body and I had constant headaches and back pain.  My relationships weren't full of affection and they often needed alcoholic lubrication to flow.  Most days, I experienced an undercurrent of anxiety, even though I wouldn't have admitted it at the time. 

It helps to remind myself of this when I fantasize about how easy certainty makes life.  I realize the fantasy is just not true. That type of certainty is a mental state, just like doubt.  They're both something the ego can use to create a more solid identity. 

What I'm looking for is something beyond the ego to reconcile my experience of doubt.   

Doubt, part 2

Though my family stopped going to formal church when I was about 7 or 8, I have attended plenty of church services in my life and I've heard plenty of sermons on doubt.  The theme of the doubt sermons generally goes like this:

It's natural to have Doubt.  Doubt is given to us by God so that we can come to a deeper understanding of Him.  The natural progression is from Doubt to Certainty.  So be glad of your Doubt and keep your eye on the prize: Deeper Faith.

I can tell you with 100% certainty (ha!), that this train of thought has never been a comfort to me.  It just raises more questions.  When will my doubt be transformed into faith?  How does it get transformed into faith?  What is wrong with me because I haven't gotten my deeper faith yet?  Rather than comforting me, these sermons made me question the fact that my doubt was not transforming into faith.

I realize lots of people share questions about religion and there is nothing particularly special about mine.  But as a child, I didn't know how to deal with my doubts.  I didn't know how to deal with the fact that what I was being told as truth didn't match my experience.  I prayed to God to make me a "good" person and I aspired to be more like Jesus.  Eventually though, I grew to distrust for people who were certain in their faith.  I began to see them at best as simple minded and naive, and at worst, as trying to manipulate and control me.  I have to admit, in spite of myself, in the deep recesses of my psyche grew a gnawing fear that I'd go to hell or at least incur the disapproval of "God" by having this resistance.

Doubt, part 1

All my life, I've been a questioner.  I've wanted to know the why of things and haven't always been satisfied with the answers that have been given.  I've tried to go deeper and deeper into inquiry to understand matters as fully as I possibly could.  In a school setting this can be really helpful (though frustrating to teachers, I'm sure).  In a social setting, I've finally learned to temper it, because it tends to piss people off.  But in the realms of spirit and energy, in questions of the deeper truths, I have yet to be comfortable with my questioning nature. 

In my perception as a younger person, other people seemed so sure about notions of God, heaven and hell, and morality.  For a while I adopted their certainty, but it didn't take long before serious questions were popping up.  My family spent time each week reading the Bible together and I took it to heart.  Some things seemed pretty simple and obvious.  Love one another, including your enemies, including the sick.  Be humble.  Other things confused me.  I wondered about the story of Adam and Eve being the only people but when Cain got banished, there was a worry the other people out there would kill him.  Where did those people come from if Adam and Eve were the only ones?  When I asked my father what a virgin was (in reponse to Mary being a virgin), why did every one get really quiet until he answered, "a young girl?"  That just seemed weird.  Why would God, who was all about love, send people to hell just for not knowing about Jesus?  The questions went on and on.