Mindful Listening

The great value of mindfulness practice can be found in the ordinary activities of daily life. It is not necessary to engage in extraordinary pursuits to realize the full depth and breadth of Buddhist practice. Listening is one of the ordinary, daily activities that can serve as a powerful vehicle for cultivating mindfulness, insight, and freedom. Dharma practice is to develop the ability to “see clearly;” listening well is a way to do this. Through listening we can better appreciate what others are saying and gain greater self-understanding.

Imagine yourself standing in front of a great wall stretching far to the right and far to the left. In the middle is a closed door.  You open the door, and step through. On the other side of the wall is a vast sky and a great panorama of mountains and valleys receding toward a far distant horizon. From this view you appreciate the great vastness and spaciousness of the world. Then you turn around and step back through the door to the other side of the wall. Standing on the other side you see that here is a vista of a vast ocean sprinkled with beautiful islands. In fact, on either side of the door there is an equally wide, large world to be explored and studied. Listening can be understood as the door between two vast worlds, the world outside of yourself and the world inside yourself. The first is what your ears can hear.  The second is what is going on in your body, mind, and heart as you listen. To practice mindful listening is to reside in the doorway between these two worlds so you can be attentive and wise in both.

To listen well, it is helpful to distinguish listening from hearing.  Listening is an active, deliberate activity while hearing doesn’t require any effort or intention. With a loud sound, no effort is needed to hear it. However, one might need to intentionally listen to identify the source of the sound. If we were to mime someone listening we might cup a hand behind one ear and lean in the direction of a sound. It is much more difficult to mime ‘hearing’ because hearing is not an activity we do, it is a mode of receptivity to whatever sounds that might occur. By having a clear distinction between listening and hearing we can then choose one over the other. Sometimes, it can be deeply relaxing to make no effort to listen except to rest in the hearing, especially with meditation, music, or sounds of nature. More often in daily life however, we either listen actively or not very well, for example, when we don’t fully listen to what others are saying.

One form of active listening is to listen mindfully, that is, with clear attention and interest. Listening mindfully is to intentionally bring greater awareness to the experience of listening rather than listening habitually or perhaps half-heartedly. To make it a mindfulness practice we also give priority to listening for the purpose of listening rather than letting another purpose dominate. We attend to listening in such a way that we both listen better and are aware of our attitude while listening.

The better your understanding of what goes on within you as you listen, the better you can understand the obstruction to listening well and what you can do to listen more mindfully.  Mindful listening requires a willingness to put aside, at least temporarily, the agendas, preferences, opinions, and judgments that interfere with being able to listen well. At the same time, it can involve actively noticing the internal impact and response you have to what is heard. Then, you can choose to keep your focus on the different dimensions of what you listening to rather than easily wandering off in thought. Not only can you listen more carefully to the content of what someone is saying, you can notice their facial expressions, tone of voice, posture, and attitidude.

Without mindfulness, listening can sometimes be done with eagerness—even impatience—for someone who is talking to finish. An internal pressure to speak, or having anticipatory thoughts, can interfere with our full listening to what others are saying. In contrast, to listen mindfully is to be generous with our time; to live in the flow of time, each thing allowed its own time.

You know you are listening mindfully when you continue to listen after someone has stopped speaking. Listen to the silence. Or let the receptivity with which you listened become an additional occasion to notice what is happening within yourself or with the person to whom you are listening. Such a pause—even a two second pause—gives you time to digest what was said. It is also a time to discover what you want to say before you actually say it. Such self-awareness can protect you from saying things you later regret. The pause may also give others a chance to discover what is going on in their own minds and bodies.   

Mindful listening is embodied listening. This means that you don’t just listen with your ears. You can feel the physical impact of what you hear. What sensations arise in the body in response to what is heard? What parts of your body get energized in the hearing? What gets tense, what relaxes?

Embodied listening includes assuming a posture that supports better listening. Perhaps sitting up straighter with the chest open. Perhaps turning toward the person who is speaking.  It can be helpful to assume a posture or a gesture that indicates you are listening.  Perhaps leaning forward slightly. Or nodding your head to the points the person is making. By being actively involved in listening we listen better. It also helps the speaker to know we are really listening.

A famous story from the Ramayana, an epic poem in the Hindu tradition, illustrates the power of careful listening. The story tells of Rama walking in the forest with some companions.  When Rama starts hearing the faint whisper of a voice, he asks his companions if they can hear it. They say, “No.” Rama begins to walk toward the whisper.  As he gets closer he recognizes it is his name that is being spoken, “Rama…Rama.”  As the voice becomes louder, his friends still say they can’t hear it. Finally Rama comes to a large boulder from which the sound comes. He then places his two hands gently on the boulder. At this point the rock breaks open and inside is a person who has been stuck in the rock through a magic spell. By listening to the whisper he was able to discover what was locked up and then release it.

In this way, to listen mindfully is to give care in order to hear the faint whispers inside others and ourselves and to discover the significant thoughts, feelings, and desires that may be shy or overlooked. Once discovered, the quiet whispers then have the opportunity to be heard.

Listening—as all forms of active attention—is an intentional act, and as such is connected to our desires, emotions, attitudes, values, and preferences. Because of this connection it can be helpful to use the following questions to help explore your listening. You might take your time with each question, perhaps giving yourself a week to reflect on it before exploring the next one.

  • What purpose motivates your listening?
  • What concerns and desires influence your listening?
  • Are there emotions coloring what you hear?
  • How interested and attentive are you to what you’re listening to?
  • When someone is speaking, how much are you listening to the person and how much are you engaged in your own thoughts?
  • What expectations do you have when you listen?
  • In different situations, you will have different answers to these questions. The answers may point to how to listen more attentively, with greater wisdom.

Mindful listening is a great way to cultivate greater mindfulness in daily life. Listening is always a present moment activity; when we listen we are present. When we listen actively and receptively we are developing the faculties needed for the practice of mindfulness. Practicing mindful listening is a foundation for the more difficult task of speaking mindfully. Until we have a strong capacity to stay mindful while we speak, it is good to remember the saying that “we have two ears and one mouth so we can listen more than we speak.”   

—Gil Fronsdal

Article: “A Life of Mutual Benefit” by Gil Fronsdal

“A wise person is motivated to benefit oneself, others, and both self and others.”

—The Buddha

Some people live focused on benefiting themselves and those to whom they feel close. Some people are devoted to benefiting others, sometimes at the expense of themselves. To the Buddha, a wise person is someone who wishes for the good of all. Our lives are so interconnected that it is not possible to benefit oneself while neglecting others. And one can’t be of much benefit to others if one neglects oneself. The path of liberation the Buddha taught neglects neither oneself nor others; it is a path that lies at the intersection of oneself and the world.

One significant place to see how Buddhist practice balances caring for oneself and others is the Eightfold Path. Four of the path factors are practices aimed primarily at benefiting others. Part of the second factor, Right Intention, is to live motivated by goodwill and compassion for others. The next three factors, Right Speech, Right Action, and Right Livelihood, are all concerned with being in the world so that our speech, action, and livelihood benefit others.

In the practice of speech the Buddha encouraged people to speak in ways that are truthful, reliable, and trustworthy and in a manner that “reunites those who are divided, promotes friendship, and speaks words that promote concord.” He also encouraged speaking about what is good and beneficial.

Right Action is defined as not killing, not taking what is not given, not engaging in sexual misconduct, and not lying. While just following these guidelines provides others with the gift of safety, the Buddha went further by saying that in living a life that doesn’t harm practitioners, one should “abide compassionate to all living beings.”

For many people, one’s livelihood is how one has the most impact on the wider social world. The practice of Right Livelihood aims at being thoroughly ethical in how one works and supports others. Exploiting or harming others through our work is antithetical to Right Livelihood.

While Right Speech, Right Action, and Right Livelihood are practices that benefit others, we also benefit when we practice them. One of the great sources of well-being and peace is a clean conscience. Our own ethical integrity can become a meaningful refuge.

The last three factors of the Eightfold Path—Right Effort, Right Mindfulness, and Right Concentration—are usually understood to emphasize caring for oneself. All three factors focus on improving the quality of our minds and hearts. Right Effort involves learning to do those things that increase our wholesome states of mind. Right Mindfulness gives us the presence of mind to differentiate between the wholesome and unwholesome. Right Concentration brings calm, ease, and peace.

The wholesomeness and well-being that Right Effort, Right Mindfulness, and Right Concentration bring is a wellspring for both self-care and care for others. It shows us how meaningful and beautiful the developed heart can become. It is knowledge that strengthens empathy and appreciation of others. This is probably why the Buddha often presented concentration practice as an approach for cultivating goodwill and compassion for others.

Caring for others and for oneself are not distinct from each other. When we benefit others we are benefited in return, not least because it strengthens wholesome qualities in ourselves. When we benefit ourselves through developing our integrity, hearts, and wisdom, we will inevitably benefit others. Conversely, if we harm others we will sooner or later see how this also harms us. Even if others don’t retaliate, we cannot escape our own conscience forever.

The Buddhist approach to living a wise life can be called “a life of mutual benefit.” By benefiting others we are benefited ourselves; by benefiting ourselves we are benefiting others.

However, some people may feel that any emphasis on benefiting oneself is selfish. The Buddhist response is that selfishness harms the person who is selfish. If we understand what brings and supports personal well-being, we will avoid being selfish. We will not pursue our own well-being at the expense of others.

In Buddhism, benefiting oneself is not the same as acquiring pleasure, status, or wealth. It is developing beautiful and wholesome qualities of heart. It is cultivating the kind of inner wellbeing, love, and peace that helps make how we are in the world as helpful for others as what we do.

For similar reasons, we would not want to benefit others if it harmed our self in any significant ways. How can we really touch the hearts of others if our own heart is being harmed?

A person focused on mutual benefit does not view life as a competition that only some people can win. Rather, one considers what is best for the greater good, something the Buddha described in the above quote as benefiting both self and others. This is not the greater good that sacrifices some for the welfare of the majority. It requires creatively seeking ways to improve the lives of all.

In practice, a life of mutual benefit does not mean that everything we do has to benefit everyone. It means that when we care for ourselves in healthy ways, we can be reassured that this is for the greater good. And when we care for others in healthy ways, this is for our own benefit as well. At different times, in different situations, we will act on different ends of the self/other spectrum.

At times it is appropriate, and even important, to care for oneself. Meditating every morning may be immensely helpful for the meditator. It can be as important a form of self-care as making sure one eats healthily, gets enough sleep, and keeps one’s body healthy. At the same time, daily meditation may prepare us to care for others in calmer, wiser, and more compassionate ways.

There are other times when it is appropriate to care primarily for others; their needs may be greater than our own. However, one task of mindfulness practice is to help us care for others without giving in to attitudes and reactions that are harmful to ourselves. It is important to learn how to benefit others without harming ourselves.

A life of mutual benefit embraces a wider perspective than any stance that supports conflict. Without shrinking from conflict, it searches for the common ground that can work for the common good.

To understand Dharma practice as a life of mutual benefit clearly places our practice within the context of our social life. Even if one spends long periods of time in mostly solitary meditation practice, there is always a social dimension to one’s practice. We don’t walk the path of liberation for ourselves only. We practice for the sake of all beings.

—Gil Fronsdal

Article: “The Buddha’s Eightfold Path” by Gil Fronsdal

The Buddha’s teachings describe an accessible path to liberation. The ancient Buddhist metaphor of a path draws on the idea of a cleared passageway that allows one to move through an otherwise impassable forest. Just as a person brings his or her entire body along when walking on a path in the forest, so a spiritual practitioner enters the Buddha’s path by engaging all aspects of who he or she is. Yet while a physical path exists whether we walk on it or not, the Buddha’s path exists only in our engagement with it. We create the path with the activities of our minds, hearts, and bodies. Teachings about the Buddha’s path are simply maps indicating how we create the path as we go.

In one version of this path metaphor, the Buddha likens spiritual liberation to a long-forgotten, overgrown city deep in the forest. Just as it’s possible to reclaim and then inhabit this city once the path to it is found, it’s possible to live a liberated life when we discover and follow a path that will take us there.

Building on the metaphor of a forest path, the Buddha compared the forest’s dense undergrowth to the many mental and emotional obstacles that limit our freedom. We each have our own inner wilderness with its dangers and challenges, but we also have within us what it takes to free ourselves of these dangers.

Because both the path and the obstacles are found within us, the Buddha’s path requires us to take responsibility for our thoughts, attitudes, and actions. It builds on the principle that we can move towards liberation by disengaging from perspectives and behaviors that weigh us down and by replacing them with behaviors that lighten us and support us as we proceed.

The Buddha’s path to liberation—known as the Noble Eightfold Path—is made up of eight interrelated practices. The Buddhist name for each of these practices is prefaced by samma, a Pali word usually translated as “right” that can also mean “proper,” “complete,” and “in harmony.” When “right” is the translation, it’s useful to think of it as meaning “appropriate,” as when we speak of having the “right tool” for a particular task. Because the path is made up of practices rather than beliefs, “right” does not refer to truths we’re obligated to adopt or to moralistic judgments of right and wrong.

The first step on the Eightfold Path is Right View, a pragmatic perspective that guides us along the path itself. We can again make an analogy with hiking. Hikers in the woods practice “orienteering”—paying careful attention to details of their surroundings in order to find their way in the wilderness. They must first have some idea where they’re going so they don’t wander aimlessly and end up getting lost. But even when the compass points us to the destination, taking the most direct course may not be possible if it entails plunging over the steepest cliffs or into the densest, most overgrown parts of the forest. By knowing what to pay attention to, a hiker can “read” the forest and discover aspects that show the best way forward.

For the Buddha’s path, this orienting perspective—called Right View—is the practice of keeping an eye on our relationship to whatever we’re experiencing. Classically this is described as using the perspective of the Four Noble Truths. Rather then getting caught up in our opinions and abstract interpretations of what we are experiencing, in this approach we ask ourselves a series of questions: Do we feel any stress, discomfort, or suffering in how we’re relating to what’s happening or not happening? What is our contribution to this suffering? What are we clinging to that is contributing to the suffering? Right View includes the encouraging perspective that clinging and its resulting suffering can be brought to an end. It also orients us to the practices of the entire Eightfold Path as the easiest and clearest path to liberation from suffering.

Right View is not meant to be the only perspective from which to view our life. Other perspectives can be necessary for other purposes. However, in order to walk the Buddha’s path to freedom, Right View is an essential ingredient. It is the perspective needed to find the path and to stay on the path.

Practicing Right View does not require believing something we can’t know for ourselves.  It does not rely on any supernatural or mystical beliefs. Nor does it require us to be ahead of where we are. Pursuing a path involves walking where we are on the path; we can’t walk on what lies ahead until we reach it.

The remaining practices of the Eightfold Path are Right Intention, Right Speech, Right Action, Right Livelihood, Right Effort, Right Mindfulness, and Right Concentration. These seven have a mutually supportive relationship with Right View. On the one hand, Right View helps us distinguish between the intentions, speech, ethical actions, livelihoods, and mental states that cause suffering and the ones that alleviate it. On the other hand, as we practice the other factors of the Eightfold Path, Right View becomes easier and more effective to practice. The more we clear the path, the easier it is to find our way.

The potential for practicing the Eightfold Path lies within us. When we practice the factors well, they transform us. They have the ability to reduce and even end our clinging, attachment, fear, hatred, and delusion. When we do this thoroughly, the Eightfold Path is no longer something we have to walk. When we are free, there is nowhere we have to go to find freedom. When we live from our freedom, the eight factors are no longer practices; amazingly, they become the natural expression of liberation. The Eightfold Path becomes who we are.

—Gil Fronsdal

Over the next eight months, Gil plans to write articles addressing each factor of the Eightfold Path. They will be posted on IMC’s website. 

Article: From Mad to M.A.D.L.E.S.S. by Gil Fronsdal

Anger is one of the most common human emotions and perhaps the most dangerous. Regardless of whether the anger is directed toward ourselves or others, it can be painful and cause a great deal of suffering. While the danger of mild anger may only be discomfort for the person who is angry, rage and simmering hostility can lead to significant pain and distress for ourselves and others. The danger of anger increases dramatically when it’s acted out: relationships can be ruined, enemies made, and people’s lives shattered with angry words or actions. It’s painful to be angry, and acting with anger easily produces more pain.

It seems that whenever I teach about overcoming anger, someone inevitably insists, “But isn’t anger sometimes appropriate?” The answer depends on the nature of the anger. If the anger involves hostility, then I hope it is never necessary. I hope we can always find a better way to accomplish what is needed than through aggression. If hostility is absent and the anger is a compelling frustration or the disapproval of an injustice or harmful behavior, then perhaps anger can be appropriate—provided it is acted on with wisdom and care. Yet even if anger is appropriate, it can all too easily be expressed in harmful ways. When anger is justified, it may not be necessary to become angry. We find our freedom by seeing we have a choice.

When we’re motivated to avoid the dangers of anger, it’s important to understand the anger and to learn how to work with it so it doesn’t drive our behavior. Because taming the flames of anger can be difficult, I offer seven approaches that can help. For the sake of remembering them, I refer to them by the acronym M.A.D.L.E.S.S.—Motivation, Attention, Dissipation, Learning, Empathy, Story, and Speaking/Sharing.

M stands for Motivation and involves understanding what lies beneath our anger. Motivation can be explored with the following questions: What purpose is the anger serving? What is the anger trying to accomplish? Is the anger an attempt to release pent-up frustration or to push away something uncomfortable? Does being angry involve wanting to change, reject, or rectify something? Does the anger have a wise goal or purpose? Might there be wiser motivations or wiser actions?

Taking the time to ask these questions begins an important process of stepping back from the anger and considering it objectively. Having distanced ourselves in this way, we can then examine our relationship to the anger. We can ask ourselves: Do I want to be angry? Do I want to allow the anger to provoke and motivate me? If what we want is freedom, then our motivation for freedom has to be greater than our desire to remain angry.

This brings us to the A in the acronym: Attention. This involves being mindful of our anger by clearly seeing what is happening emotionally, physically, and mentally. What thoughts and beliefs come with the anger?  What is the subjective experience of being angry? How does it feel in the body? What is happening right now in the present? How much does past and future thinking affect the anger?

One of the important functions of mindfulness of anger is to learn how to allow the anger to exist without being caught up in it. This involves cultivating an awareness that provides either mental distance from the anger or a sense of spaciousness around it. It can help to learn how to feel the anger in the body while imagining the body as an open container in which our energies flow freely. We can feel the impulses to move or to speak without acting on them. Mindfully breathing while being aware of the anger in the body can be useful for giving “breathing room” to the anger. It can help us find a way to be aware of anger while being neither for it nor against it.

D stands for Dissipation. This is useful when we are so mad that we have trouble paying wise attention to our anger. Dissipation involves discharging the energy of anger so it doesn’t continue to harm us or cause us to act in ways we later regret. We can do this by going for a walk, exercising, taking a shower or a nap, or finding someone to talk to about the anger in a manner that calms us down. I have known people who’ve gone into the woods to be alone and then found a tree toward which they could safely express the anger.

Dissipation is not meant to be a way to forget the issue that caused the anger. Rather, it’s a way to diminish the intensity of the anger so we are not being pushed around by it. It’s also a way to become calm enough that we can Learn about the anger—which brings us to the L in M.A.D.L.E.S.S.

Anger presents us with an opportunity to learn something about ourselves. The presence of anger is a symptom of a disharmony or conflict that would be helpful to understand well. This can be done by reflecting carefully on what happened, including an honest consideration of our own contribution to getting worked up. For example, we can explore our own reactivity so that in the future we aren’t as easily triggered. Hopefully pride, embarrassment, resentment, or blame won’t interfere with the willingness to do this important investigation.

When learning about our reactivity in relation to anger, it’s helpful to consider that there are chain reactions within us. The anger may be the last link in a series of reactions, many of which have gone unrecognized. Three of the most common and underappreciated causes of anger are hurt, sadness, and fear. Taking the time to discover if and how these underlying emotions are present can change not only our relationship to the anger but also our relationship to the person or situation with whom we’re angry. Seeing how anger is a symptom of the underlying feelings can help us to address those root feelings without perpetuating a conflict or antagonism toward others.

When anger involves hostility, there are even deeper layers to uncover and explore. Perhaps the most important is selfishness. There is no hostility without some degree of self-absorption and ideas of “me, myself, and mine.” Listening to how often our speech and thoughts are self-referential can provide a useful way to understand the degree of our self-centeredness. Sometimes we may learn that anger arises when our self-identity is hurt or threatened. Hopefully becoming aware of our selfishness doesn’t become an additional reason to be angry. Such self-understanding is meant to be a step toward freedom and greater self-compassion.

The E in the acronym stands for Empathy—a quality that, while often absent when anger is present, can be evoked by searching for a fuller understanding of the people or situation we’re angry with. People seldom cause harm unless they are suffering themselves. Their meanness or negligence may have more to do with stresses they are living under than with the person they are hurting. Those who are ill, for instance, may anger easily because they have little tolerance for frustration. A bully may be smarting from an earlier humiliation. A boss may speak sharply because of the strain of being unable to care adequately for a dying parent. Or someone may exhibit anger as a way to compensate for insecurity.

Of course, understanding people’s inappropriate behavior is not the same as excusing it. Empathy might, however, allow us to soften our hard position toward them, perhaps even to let go of our anger. Realizing the other person has difficulties just as we do may help us to take their behavior less personally. And most important, this empathy may actually lead to a feeling of compassion: rather than lingering in our anger, we feel concern for the person’s well being. Working through conflict and disagreement becomes easier when there is empathy for the other party.

Related to empathy is Story, the first S in M.A.D.L.E.S.S. Anger often arises from an inaccurate story we tell ourselves. For instance, we might make up a story about another person’s intention. Or we imagine our anger will teach the other person a lesson, or that anger is necessary to prevent others from taking advantage of us. Investigating the story we have around the anger is a way to question what we may be holding on to and begin to consider if there are other ways of understanding.

One useful story to consider is that being angry may be causing us pain while having minimal or no effect on the other person. I have known people who did the cost/benefit analysis of anger and concluded that being mad was not in their best interest. They found that holding on to resentment was not worth the pain it caused them. Another useful story is to imagine that the circumstance that elicited the anger was designed as the perfect training opportunity for one’s path to freedom. The task then is to discover appropriate ways to take advantage of the opportunity.

If we find ourselves seeing conflict through the filter of a hard “me versus you” view, it might be interesting to find a realistic story that sees everyone as “us” or “we.” Is there an approach that considers what is best for everyone involved, not just “me”?

The last S in M.A.D.L.E.S.S. is Speak and Share. Overcoming anger is not a substitute for dealing with the conflicts we have. Rather, it opens the door to finding productive ways of discussing the conflicts with others, especially with those involved. Even if we have not overcome the anger, we can learn wise ways of speaking that don’t offend or threaten those we’re speaking to. Telling someone we are angry with them probably won’t create the best conditions for a fruitful conversation because the other person may feel criticized. If instead we explain how much we feel hurt by their behavior, the person may be given a chance to feel empathy for us and then be willing to have a constructive conversation.

And one of the most powerful ways of dealing with anger, especially when all else fails, is to share something with the person with whom you are angry—to give a gift. Gift giving can shift moods and relationships in many beneficial ways, some unexpected.

Learning to use the seven M.A.D.L.E.S.S. strategies helps us approach our anger with respect, as something that warrants our careful attention. These steps can become a path through anger to freedom. Not only does this path reduce the dangers we face; it also makes us safer to those around us.

—Gil Fronsdal

Article: The Action of Non-Action by Gil Fronsdal

Buddhist practice involves engaging in actions on a path to freedom and awakening.  Action, in other words, is key. Reading about Buddhism is not the same as taking up the practice.  If we learn about Buddhist practice but don’t change any of our behaviors, we won’t experience the benefits of the practice.  Unless we actually take up the activity of mindfulness, mindfulness practice will have no role in our lives. If we decide we want to meditate but fail to actually do it, we won’t experience the fruits of meditation.  Without acting on our best values, it would be as if we didn’t have those values at all. Buddhist practice is founded on the principle that our actions are consequential and we can choose actions that lead to greater peace, freedom, and compassion.

Despite this emphasis on action, Buddhism does put primary emphasis on two forms of non-doing: non-craving and non-clinging.  The Buddhist path of liberation aims at the cessation of these two mental actions because craving and clinging are the conditions for the arising of dukkha, the Buddhist word for suffering, stress, and distress.  When craving and clinging have ceased, not only does dukkha not occur, it is replaced by a deeply meaningful, timeless peace.  And when we are no longer involved with craving and clinging, the heart has lots of space for wisdom and compassion.

Although it might sound paradoxical, non-action is also an important kind of action on the Buddhist path.  Just as it’s important to understand which actions place us on the path of freedom, it is equally important to understand when non-action is called for. For some people this may be more difficult than learning to act—perhaps because it’s easier to believe we’re making a difference if we’re doing something.  This difficulty may be particularly acute when it comes to our inner life, where the habits of behaving, thinking, and believing are often so deeply embedded that not only are they difficult to stop, they can seem natural or innate—part of our “hardware”—so that we don’t even recognize them as activities we have any choice over.  A lifetime of doing, fixing, arranging, and controlling can be difficult to put to rest.

One of the foundational Buddhist practices of non-action involves refraining from acting on unethical impulses.  The five ethical precepts are the most obvious examples of this practice.  The precepts involve a commitment to not act on our intentions to harm others, steal, lie, engage in sexual misconduct, or become intoxicated.  Commitment to these precepts is not always easy to adhere to because unethical impulses and intentions can be powerful. When they are, the non-action required may be quite active, requiring lots of inner strength to support our commitment to refrain.

Forbearance and patience are also important though less appreciated practices of non-action. Human life is filled with situations that frustrate our preferences, destabilize our equanimity, and evoke our ire.  Because it is rarely beneficial to act—or react—when we are frustrated, unstable, or angry, practicing patience may be the best approach to avoid making a difficult situation worse.  Such non-action is called forbearance when we also have to tolerate discomfort.

As most people who meditate know, meditation takes sustained effort. But from one perspective at least, it also involves a lot of non-action.  With the body resting still, we are not engaged in the physical activities that characterize much of our lives.  Similarly, by keeping our attention in the present moment, the meditative mind is not actively and intentionally involved in most forms of daily mental activity such as thinking about the past, the future, or fantasies.  When we’re engaged in meditation, being preoccupied with expectations and goals and evaluating our progress are all counterproductive.  So is criticizing ourselves for how “well” or “unwell” we’re meditating. Assuming too much active responsibility for our meditation can derail the relaxing, unwinding, and opening that support meditation practice. Mindfulness practitioners also learn that “selfing” is not helpful.  Concerns with self-identity, self-justification, and self-aversion, are mental activities that meditators eventually learn to refrain from in favor of experiencing more peace.

People who practice meditation discover ever-subtler forms of non-action.  For example, they learn that picking up a thought and getting involved with it is a mental action that isn’t necessary and needn’t be automatic. If the thought is not picked up, it can be left alone to fade away on its own. With mindfulness, we can develop the ability to choose which thoughts to engage with and which to avoid.  In this way, non-action is an effective antidote for neuroses that result from being overly involved with thoughts.  For some people, giving up the usual habits of mental activity is the most important lesson they can learn in meditation, partly because of the relief it brings and partly because it allows them to discover beneficial aspects of their inner life that had been hidden by all the doing.

Rather than directly solving our personal problems, non-action and meditation can help us to step away from our preoccupation with our problems, and this change in emphasis can sometimes make space for new solutions to arise or for the problem itself to diminish on its own.  Some problems are better dissolved than solved. Some issues are seen more clearly when we aren’t ruminating about them.

But non-action isn’t always easy. It can require a lot of self-discipline and willpower when we’re in the grip of desires and fears. Not acting on addictive drives may be as difficult as it is beneficial.  It can be hard to resist the impulse to stay up late watching TV or surfing the internet, but when we do, we can get a good night’s sleep and wake up ready for the workday ahead.  For those who have strong cravings for addictive substances, the pull to indulge can be very powerful, but when they refrain, they may be able to hold on to a job or a marriage.

Even in more mundane situations, non-action has benefits. For people who are always quick to speak, sometimes at the expense of interrupting others, practicing non-action in conversation can be helpful and instructive.  This might be as simple as waiting to speak until others are clearly finished. Or it can involve allowing moments of silence.  Not acting on every impulse to speak is a way to respect others.  It is also a way to allow for greater mindfulness of what’s happening in a conversation.

In lives of constant doing, periods of non-activity can serve as important intervals of rest, recovery, and discovery.  When we’re perpetually busy we can easily lose touch with ourselves, how we’re feeling, and even our most important values. Not doing may be just the medicine for relieving stress or providing time to process unresolved feelings.  Letting go of any attempt to accomplish or do anything but instead simply looking out the window or drinking a cup of tea may give the mind and heart a chance to reveal something important that has been overlooked or which we have not yet thought about.  Non-action can be the seedbed for creativity and healing.

Non-doing is also a significant way of learning about ourselves.  As we attempt to stop our usual activities, we discover the impulses that make stopping so difficult. In this way we learn where we are attached, and we learn about the emotions, impulses, and beliefs that keep us caught up.  When we refrain from doing something we habitually do, we might get to see for the first time the cost the activity has had—sometimes over a lifetime.  Finally, it may be only when we have ceased being active that we can see that we have more choices in how to act.

In deep meditation practice a time comes when it is helpful to let go of all intentional mental activity, even of mindfulness, concentration, and any other ways we are “meditating.”  This can provide a profound sense of well being that is not dependent on getting what we want, avoiding what we don’t want, or any other efforts to “do” anything.  It is a sense of well being that loosens the grip of our attachments.

It is possible to become free of clinging—this is what the path of freedom is all about.  To find this path each person must find the right balance of action and non-action.

—Gil Fronsdal


Article: The Dana of Dana Retreats

by: Gil Fronsdal

At the Insight Meditation Center, and soon, at the new Insight Retreat Center, we offer our residential retreats freely at no cost to anyone who participates. We do so because we believe Buddhist practice unfolds best in a field of generosity, gratitude, and goodwill. We also believe the freely given aspect of retreats exemplifies the remarkable inner freedom that Buddhism champions. By demonstrating an alternative to the dominant materialism and acquisitiveness of our culture, we hope these retreats inspire open- heartedness and open-handedness in the volunteers who put on the retreats, the donors who fund them, and the retreatants themselves.

When we offer a retreat we think of it as offering a gift to those who attend. This is one reason we use dana, the Buddhist word meaning “gift”, when we describe our retreats as dana retreats. The other reason we use dana to refer to our retreats is because all the support that allows us to put on a retreat has come as gifts. Dana Retreats are both gifts and gifted.

The staff and teachers who do the work of running the retreat do so as volunteers, providing the gift of their labor and time, so that others may experience the benefits retreats can provide. Because of this, retreatants often find themselves inspired knowing they are being cared for by the non-obligatory generosity of others. It is a kind of inspiration through which the benefits of retreat can sink in deeper.

Generosity, gratitude and goodwill thrive more easily when there is no pressure. We strive, therefore, to operate our retreat center well within our means. We are blessed by the many people who have been supporting our efforts.

In offering retreats freely we are happy that it removes a financial obstacle for some people. It frees us at IRC from having to administer scholarships and eliminates, for many people, the awkwardness of asking for a scholarship. Instead of having special scholarship fundraising efforts that benefit only some people, all our fundraising efforts go toward benefiting everyone who comes to retreats.

The majority of the financial support for our retreats and retreat teachers comes from the donations retreatants offer at the end of retreats. Retreatants are neither required to donate nor are there any dollar amounts suggested. But when they do make a donation their generosity is what allows others to participate in upcoming retreats. When people give knowing others will benefit, their giving can be a source of joy. Giving benefits the giver.

We could, of course, charge for our retreats. Not only is there is nothing inherently wrong with this, there is some wisdom in doing so. However, try this thought experiment: what difference would it make to you if you paid a required cost for a retreat prior to the retreat versus freely offering the same amount of money as a donation at the end?

While the clarity of knowing a set cost can have advantages, it doesn’t allow people to experience the joy of being generous. When people pay for something there is often a belief that they deserve something in return, an attitude that can get in the way of the personal work meditation requires. Because people don’t pay for our retreats, people are less likely to assign responsibility to others. Instead, people are more likely to feel gratitude that someone at a previous retreat offered the funds so they could attend the retreat.

Gratitude, in turn, can help people relax and trust, qualities that support meditation practice, and inspire people to do the inner work that meditation is about. Gratitude benefits the grateful.

It is a joy and privilege to support others to do the deep inner work that happens so well on retreats. Not only are we, at IMC, inspired to offer retreats, we are also inspired by the goodwill and generosity of the many people who support our retreat efforts. It takes a community to support awakening in each one of us.

Article: Concentration & Relaxation

by Andrea Fella

When we go on a residential retreat, we often hope that our meditation will result in a deepening of concentration: a quality of composure, collectedness, of settled attention.

But unfortunately, we can’t force concentration to happen! We can, however, support the conditions that allow it to arise. This simple fact has been really helpful for me to remember. In our meditation practice, we often bring along the cultural baggage of an “I’m going to do this” mentality, and sometimes that attitude can get in our way.

Concentration arises when awareness becomes continuous, whether continuous on a single experience like the breathing, or continuous on a flow of changing experience. We can’t force this continuity. We can, for short periods of time, forcefully hold our attention to experience, but this kind of attention usually results in brittle concentration that’s easily broken.

So a useful support for our practice is learning how to create a container that allows concentration to develop without being forced. This tends to result in a more stable concentration.

Relaxation is one of the important aspects of that container. Relaxation is actually one of the main supports for concentration! When I first started meditating, I thought that you had to force the mind to focus. The idea that one could relax to facilitate concentration did not penetrate my mind for quite a while. But relaxation is quite important.

Relaxation in meditation does not mean spacing out! The mind can be both relaxed and alert. Relaxation can take time. Different people need different amounts of time to allow the body and mind to relax in meditation. Relaxation of the body and relaxation of the mind are mutually supportive; when the body is relaxed, it’s much easier for the mind to relax.

We all need to find our own way to relax in meditation. For some people, starting with a relaxing body scan can be very helpful: consciously relaxing the muscles of the body in a systematic way. Once the body is relaxed, we see if we can relax the thinking mind. For others, meditating on ambient sounds can be helpful. Since we don’t control these sounds, turning our attention to them can sometimes allow the body and mind to relax very naturally.

Setting up a container of relaxed attention is an important framework for the meditation. Once you find a balance of relaxation and alertness, you can learn how to open this relaxed attention to experience: Either directing attention to a particular experience like the breathing, or becoming aware of a flow of experience: of seeing, smelling, hearing, tasting, touching, and emotions and thoughts.

When we can learn how to attend to our experience and not lose the relaxation, the mind becomes malleable, and we can skillfully choose to direct the attention to support a deepening of concentration. At other times, we can get out of our own way, and allow the meditation to take its own course very naturally.

I encourage you to take the time to explore what it means for you to have a relaxed attention: first of all to learn simply how to relax the body and mind, and then to learn what it means to apply this relaxation to an alert attending to your experience.

Article: Cultivating Compassion by Gil Fronsdal

Compassion is inextricably linked to the Buddhist practice of liberation. It can be the motivation for this practice as well as the result.  As one’s inner freedom grows, one’s capacity for compassion increases; as one’s compassion increases, so does the importance of freedom. Liberation supports compassion and compassion supports liberation. They both benefit when they go hand in hand.

Compassion is a form of empathy and care that wishes for the alleviation of someone’s suffering. Known as karuna in Buddhism, this compassion is sometimes referred to as the “jewel in the lotus.” The lotus symbolizes the heart or mind that, with practice, blossoms into freedom, and the jewel represents the compassion appearing in the center of this blossom. The feeling of unfettered compassion is one of the most beautiful feelings a person can experience, providing valuable meaning and purpose to any human life.  Its presence is sometimes celebrated in Buddhism as an inner wealth and source of happiness.

Given its importance, Buddhism doesn’t leave the manifestation of compassion to chance. We don’t have to passively accept how often and how strongly we happen to experience it. Instead, it’s possible to actively develop our feelings of compassion and remove the obstacles for our feeling compassionate.

Because people sometimes confuse compassion with feelings of distress, it is helpful to clearly distinguish these two. Compassion doesn’t make us victims of suffering, whereas feeling distress on another’s behalf often does.  Learning how to see the suffering in the world without taking it on personally is very important; when we take it personally it is easy to become depressed or burdened.  We can avoid taking it as a personal burden or obligation if we learn to feel empathy without it touching our own fears, attachments, and perhaps unresolved grief.

This means that to feel greater compassion for others we need to understand our own suffering. Mindfulness practice is a great help in this.  With mindfulness, we can better see our suffering, its roots within us and the way to freedom from suffering; we can begin to cultivate both equanimity toward our suffering and release from its causes.

In this regard, it’s helpful to appreciate the great value in staying present, open, and mindful of suffering, both our own and that of others. We often need to give ourselves time to process difficult events and experiences and to let difficult emotions move through us.  When immediate action is not required, staying mindful of suffering doesn’t necessarily require a lot of wisdom or special techniques. It mostly takes patience and perseverance.  Relaxed mindfulness of our own suffering increases our ability to feel empathy for others’ difficulty and pain. It gives time for understanding and letting go to occur.  By practicing to be free of habitual reactivity, we take the time to see and feel more deeply what is happening.  This allows empathy to operate and for deeper responses to arise from within.  In this way, compassion is evoked rather than intentionally created.

Some people are reluctant to actively cultivate compassion because they worry that it will be insincerely or artificially contrived. Others fear that it will make them sentimentally naive or prevent them from seeing others clearly or realistically—perhaps out of concern they will be taken advantage of if they are compassionate to others.  Because efforts to be compassionate can be misguided, these concerns are worth keeping in mind.  However, as there are healthy ways to increase our compassion, the concerns don’t have to inhibit our efforts to do so.

One effective way of developing compassion is creating conditions that make it more likely to occur. That is, rather than directly making ourselves more compassionate, we can engage in activities that make it more likely to appear naturally.

A condition for compassion is a sense of safety.  It is easier to feel compassionate if we feel safe and very difficult when we don’t.  Therefore, to develop a confident and compassionate life, it can be helpful to find appropriate ways to feel safe.  Locking ourselves in our home may feel secure, but it’s not conducive to caring more about others. Learning how to be safe while in the world is more useful.  So is using mindfulness practice to address some of the anxieties and self-preoccupations that make us more likely to feel threatened.

It is important not to feel obligated to be compassionate as this often leads to self-criticism and stress that interferes with the arising of a natural compassion. Buddhism doesn’t require us to feel empathy and care for others. It does say, however, that we have the capacity to be compassionate and that doing so is a wonderful asset to ourselves, to others, and to the practice of freedom. The focus can be on how compassion enriches us, not depletes us.

Some people are hesitant to cultivate compassion because they worry they will have to give up too much of themselves as they help others.  Or they fear they will have to spend time with people they feel uncomfortable with. By knowing we are not obligated to be compassionate it may be easier for us to use our best wisdom and common sense to understand when acting on compassion is appropriate and when it is not.

Having confidence in our skill to respond to others’ suffering can also make it easier to feel compassion.  If we feel helpless, too uncomfortable, or even threatened by the troubles others are facing, awareness of their suffering may add to a sense of personal threat.  Developing skill has a lot to do with slow and patient training in such things as mindfulness, concentration, and letting go.

A way of strengthening compassion is to understand and then release what prevents it from arising.  For example, tension and stress limit compassion. When we’re stressed, we’re usually too preoccupied for empathy to operate. However, when we’re relaxed, our capacity for empathy increases. People who cultivate deep states of calm often find it naturally opens their hearts to great capacities of compassion and love.

Selfishness and self-preoccupation also obstruct compassion by blocking the attention and sensitivity that is needed for compassion to arise.  One benefit of letting go of selfishness is that compassion arises more easily.

We can also increase the amount of compassion we feel in our lives by setting the intention to do so. This can be quite specific, such as intending to be compassionate in a particular situation or toward a particular person—or it can be more general, as intending to be compassionate for this day or this week. When we consciously set this intention, we’re more likely to be reminded of and to think in terms of compassion. We will also notice compassionate thoughts and impulses that occur but which may otherwise be overshadowed by different desires and concerns.

Valuing compassion when it does appear can also strengthen it and make it more apt to arise in the future. We might consider and appreciate the benefits it can bring others as well as ourselves. Knowing the benefits can bring a sense happiness that in turn can make compassion more appealing.  Compassion can be more appealing when we have seen how it can be a source of happiness and how it can be intimately connected with our inner freedom.  Compassion for others can be a relief when we have spent too long pre-occupied with ourselves.

Another supportive condition is to deliberately reflect on compassion, perhaps stimulated by regularly reading and talking to others about it.  Whatever we think about regularly can become an inclination.  If we repeatedly think about love, kindness and caring for others, thoughts related to compassion are likely to appear more often.

Spending time with people who are compassionate can also help us.  The people we see frequently often have an influence on us. Seeing compassion in others can inspire it in ourselves.

Finally, understanding how compassion is a form of love helps us recognize what a jewel it truly is. When it arises from inner freedom it is then connected to other beautiful capacities of our hearts. It can appear together with well-being, calm, clarity, and peace.

There is, in fact, a great deal we can do to make compassion a more central part of our lives. As compassion grows, our self-centeredness and clinging decrease, and liberation becomes easier. As we become freer, compassion becomes more readily available.  To let compassion and liberation support each other is one of the most beautiful ways of training in the Buddhist path.  It can be our gift to the world.

—Gil Fronsdal

Article: “Actions” by Gil Fronsdal

Many of the Buddha’s teachings focus, in one way or another, on the importance of action in a wise life. When he gave instructions on how to live, he emphasized the importance of choosing actions that benefit ourselves and others. To understand his instruction on action it helps to be familiar with the teachings that provide the context for knowing how to act.

For people on the Buddha’s path of liberation, understanding the relationship between action and karma is important.  The central teaching the Buddha gave concerning karma is that our actions are consequential, and that it’s possible to act in ways that lead to beneficial consequences. This teaching is based on the understanding that we can know and choose which actions to engage in and which to refrain from in order to achieve peace and well being, and to avoid suffering.  Rather than emphasizing past and future lives, as people often do when discussing karma, the Buddha’s teachings point to the importance of the present moment as the only time we can take responsibility for, and train in, the actions that bring freedom.

Because of the important role of karma, the Buddha emphasized being mindful of what we do rather than what we are—and here, we can think of ‘doing’ as encompassing mental activities as well as external actions.  Instead of looking for some fixed, essential psychological state, inner nature, or spiritual essence, the Buddha focused on the dynamic psychological processes that are operating when we suffer.  When we know enough about how our minds function we can begin to avoid those mental actions that cause suffering, and choose to engage in the mental trainings and skillful actions that place us on the path to liberation.

It’s sometimes said that the Buddha emphasized action over belief.  In one sense this is true. When it came to the kinds of supernatural beliefs that underlie most religions, it appears that the Buddha had very little interest.  However, he saw that belief is also a form of action, a mental activity, and so in that sense our beliefs are actions worthy of investigation. This means that in addition to investigating the truth or falsehood of a belief, it is possible to notice whether the act of believing is, in itself, helpful.  In particular it can be useful to notice why we believe what we do.  What is the intention behind our believing?

Another quality the Buddha emphasized in his teachings on action was faith—not blind faith in something that can’t be known, but a faith in those things that can be tested and verified through our actions. Until we see for ourselves the results of our actions, we are supported by a trust that there are activities that will lead us to happiness and protect us from suffering.  When we see and experience the results of practice, this faith can become an unshakeable confidence—we have no doubt about what actions lead to inner freedom and peace.

The role of intention is also central to the Buddha’s teachings on action. Our intentions are a form of mental activity that have consequences for our mental life.  It is the nature or quality of an intention that determines how it affects the mind.  When we act on an intention that has suffering as part of it, more suffering results.  For example, when we speak with hostility, not only is the act of hostility stressful in itself, it often creates the conditions for continued suffering for ourselves and others.  Because greed, hatred and delusion all entail the suffering of clinging, actions motivated by these three intentions reinforce our clinging and so perpetuate the suffering of clinging.   When we act on an intention that embodies freedom from clinging, the benefits of that freedom will strengthen within us.  In this way, when we act on openhanded generosity, love, and wisdom—the opposites of greed, hatred, and delusion—we create mental conditions for happiness and further freedom.

This cultivation of beneficial states of mind is important; the Buddha advocated more than simply ridding ourselves of intentions that are based on clinging.  The purity that comes from avoiding certain behaviors and intentions, while worthwhile, is not enough in itself to attain the highest goal of liberation, we have to see directly into the nature of our own suffering.

But because this direct seeing isn’t easy to do, the Buddha suggested engaging in specific actions to help the mind perceive the ways it grasps and suffers.  Key among these are the practices of concentration, mindfulness, and letting go.  The training in concentration helps keep the mind stable and focused on our present moment experience so that mindfulness can help us see more clearly. The more insight we have into the present moment, the better able we are to recognize the moments of choice in which we can choose more skillful actions.  Training in letting go helps us let go of those behaviors that interfere with the further deepening of mindfulness.  At times the only action needed is letting go of all other actions.

While the Buddha’s teachings on action may seem like instructions for staying in constant activity, they are actually instructions in those actions that lead to greater and greater peace.  It’s the untrained mind that is always busy.  A trained mind can experience profound rest.  It’s the mind that understands skillful actions that can know freedom from all actions.

—Gil Fronsdal

Article: “Going for Refuge” by Gil Fronsdal

All of Buddhism flows from the Buddha’s awakening. This is so important that the title “Buddha”, meaning “One Who is Awake”, comes from bodhi, the Buddhist word for awakening. Often, because Buddhism is a path by which others may experience this awakening, this goal is what is emphasized in Buddhist teachings. In practice, however, for many Buddhist practitioners ‘going for refuge’ can involve a change of heart and mind as consequential as awakening itself.

There are two modern meanings of the English word ‘refuge’ that highlight the value of sarana, the Buddhist word for refuge. The first is a place where people can find safety from danger. The second is an area, like a wildlife refuge, set up to protect animals seen as valuable or endangered. In Buddhism, going for refuge includes both these meanings: it is a way of protecting ourselves from danger as well as safeguarding what is most valuable or beautiful within ourselves.

The practice of going for refuge is as ancient as Buddhism. It began with those people who, meeting the Buddha, were so moved that they spontaneously declared their dedication to him and his Dharma or teachings. In time, some of his disciples also experienced awakening. The community of those who awakened became the third refuge, the sangha. Together, the Buddha, Dharma and Sangha are known as the triple refuge. Because of the great value people find in them, these have come to be called the three treasures or the triple gem.

Sometimes the triple refuge refers to the historical Buddha, the Dharma he taught, and the Sangha of practitioners who have followed in his footsteps. This can be called the external refuge. Other times the triple refuge refers to inner qualities that give rise to a Buddha, the Dharma, and the Sangha. As these are inner states or capacities we all have, this can be called the internal refuge.

The external refuge is important because it is difficult to rely completely on oneself. It is helpful to have the Buddha as an example of what is possible. Few people on their own can understand the full potential they have for spiritual transformation. Learning the Dharma teachings protects us from taking paths not helpful for our freedom and awakening. It can also save us from the difficulty of discovering for ourselves the practices and teachings that do help. Being connected to a Sangha is a way to learn from others who are on the path of practice.

The internal refuge in Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha is what the Buddha referred to when he encouraged people to take refuge in oneself. In the last days of his life he said, “You should live being your own refuge with no one else as your refuge. You should live with the Dharma as your refuge with no other refuge.” The first sentence suggests each person must walk the path of practice for oneself; no one can walk it for us. The second sentence suggests that the Dharma is found in oneself, in one’s own capacities.

The internal refuge in the Buddha is our capacity to experience the peace of non-harming and non-attachment. It is the possibility of uprooting the fear, hate, delusion and greed that is the source of our suffering. It is our own ability to mature spiritually. To take inner refuge in the Buddha is to have confidence in our potential for spiritual growth and transformation.

The internal refuge in the Dharma can be described in many ways. One powerful way is to understand it as having non-harming as one’s refuge. The Dharma is not an abstract principle or reality. It arises from how we are and what we do. When we dedicate our lives to not harming, the Dharma flows through our lives, allowing us to practice with the Buddha’s teachings and to live harmoniously.

The internal refuge in Sangha encompasses our own capacity for goodness, such as our kindness, compassion and generosity. The path of non-harming and awakening does not depend only on our efforts to practice; we also need to be supported by those wholesome feelings, motivations, and attitudes that we are capable of but often overlook. To take inner refuge in the Sangha is to have confidence in our inner capacity for goodness, even when it may not be evident.

In relying on the triple refuge a person understands that the Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha are reliable. They can sustain us in difficult times. They encompass values, practices, insights, and realizations that not only protect us from self-destructive behaviors, they also help us to live wisely. They help bring forth the best qualities in our heart.

Some people look to the Buddha, Dharma and Sangha for refuge when what they had been relying on no longer supports them. Changes in work, finances, relationships, health, and society can be stressful when our well-being depends on these being a particular way. Sometimes when they realize that what they were expecting would bring them lasting happiness is not able to do so, when all else fails, they turn to taking refuge in the Buddha, Dharma and Sangha.

Some people approach going for refuge as a firm, courageous, and enthusiastic commitment to a life based on spiritual freedom and compassion. It is a commitment that simultaneously energizes one to act in new ways while encouraging a deep relaxation. So many unnecessary things can be let go when one trusts that the Dharma path provides meaningful and profound support. Going for refuge in the Buddha, Dharma and Sangha protects us from danger as much as it nourishes the growth of what is most beautiful within us.

Going for refuge is a choice to orient oneself by what the Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha represent. It could be as simple as “I now orient my life to being very careful with my speech so that my speech is honest.” It could be the dedication, “I will try to live without harming others.” For some, it may involve a radical, even revolutionary, change in how they live their lives as they dedicate themselves to the path of liberation, wisdom and compassion over all other possible dedications.

—Gil Fronsdal

Article: The Sitting Buddha by Gil Fronsdal

Seated on the ground with legs crossed, hands resting in the lap, torso upright, shoulders balanced, eyes half open in a relaxed gaze, and with a soft, gentle smile, the image of the Buddha in meditation is the most universal and easily recognized Buddhist symbol. For many Buddhists the image represents their deepest aspirations, values and potential. For others it signifies the profound hope and support they find in Buddhism. The image of the seated Buddha conveys calm and peace, which may be why Buddhists and non-Buddhists alike often have the image in their home or garden.

Statues of the Buddha are much more than lumps of clay, stone, or wood. Some of the core ideals of Buddhism are taught through the symbolism found in the meditating Buddha. The statues can be a work of art in which an artist conveys human emotions and states of mind that may awaken meaningful inner states for those who view it.

Because we have no idea what the Buddha actually looked like, the statues and paintings of him are all idealized portrayals that thereby express the ideals of the artist or, more often, the Buddhist tradition of the artist. Not all Buddhists view the Buddha image in the same way. By changing some of the details in the image, different Buddhist traditions have conveyed different symbolic teachings.

The Theravada Buddhist tradition’s view that the Buddha was a human being is symbolized by the Buddha meditating on the ground, in contact with the earth. Depictions of the meditating Buddha are meant to show him meditating as he was on the night of his Awakening, outdoors under a tree. For some people, this close connection to the earth and nature symbolizes how Awakening is a natural event arising from a deep insight into our human nature. The peace experienced by the Buddha did not belong to some divine world separate from this world. It was a peace found within this world.

The cross-legged posture symbolizes the stability that supports the calm exhibited by the rest of the image. The Buddha’s chest is neither puffed up nor collapsed; rather it conveys confidence and openness. The erect torso expresses strength without conceit. His shoulders are evenly balanced and relaxed which symbolizes the ability to maintain mental balance in the face of any challenge. The straight back represents uprightness and self-reliance — the Buddha did not depend on anything outside of himself for his awakening.

In the images of the Buddha meditating, his hands are held together with palms facing up, the right hand slightly rounded resting openly in the palm of the left hand. This open gesture conveys a sense of ease, free from clinging to anything, pushing anything away, or closing up. Perhaps the open hands point to a receptive attitude that can maintain calm and balance in any circumstance.

The classic image of the Buddha meditating shows him with a subtle half-smile, showing that happiness is an important aspect of the Buddhist path. His eyes are half open symbolizing he was equally aware of himself as he was of the world. The Buddha did not make a sharp distinction between attention to his inner personal life and to the outer world around him. It is also said that his eyes are open so as to see, with compassion, the suffering of the world.

All these qualities together represent the possibility of living with peace, uprightness, strength, and self-reliance. They depict our ability to have a calm happiness while having compassion for those who suffer. In this way, through physical expressions, the Buddha image represents qualities that are cultivated with Buddhist practice

The image of the Buddha meditating is not, however, of merely symbolic value. It is also an instruction in meditation practice. Assuming a posture like the Buddha’s helps bring forth the qualities expressed in the idealized Buddha image. When we create a stable physical base while meditating, it is easier to relax the body. When we hold our selves upright with spine straight, we are not leaning forward into the future nor leaning back in aversion. If the shoulders are kept balanced and aligned it is easier to find the middle way between giving in to what we are feeling or pulling away from it. When the chest is open and strong, confidence has a chance to support us.

A wonderful mutuality exists between our posture and our inner psychological life. A balanced, aligned posture for meditation helps bring forth the mental qualities that are strengthened along the Buddhist path. With the growth of these qualities, it becomes easier to sit upright. Whether we meditate in a chair or cross-legged on the floor, approximating the posture of the Buddha images invites the best of human qualities to arise.

The Zen Master Suzuki Roshi once said that when we bow to a Buddha image, we are bowing to ourselves. A Buddha image is not something to worship. Rather it is a mirror through which we can see something in ourselves. When we offer our respect to the Buddha we respect what is good in us. When we bow down to the Buddha, we are lowering our conceit so what is good in us can grow.

Article: Skillful Ways to Evaluate Your Practice by Gil Fronsdal

After a person has been meditating for some time, it’s important that he or she evaluate how the practice is developing. Is it working? Does it need adjustment? Is it the right practice to be doing? Can it be improved? Some of this evaluation can be done on one’s own, some with a teacher or with friends.

Taking a step back to assess our meditation shouldn’t be seen as a difficult task. We are evaluators by nature. We evaluate all the time, even if subconsciously. We decide what clothes to wear after considering a number of factors, not least of all the weather. An activity as simple as going for a walk requires a variety of considerations: How far will I walk? Does the walk require preparation? Do I need to pace myself if it is a long walk? What is the best route? Which are the best shoes?

In the same way, we can evaluate our practice. This should be done in a balanced way: not too little and not too much. Sometimes we don’t evaluate enough—maybe because of complacency, or excessive reliance on faith in the practice, or teachings that downplay the role of intelligent reflection. At other times, we might over-evaluate and tie ourselves up in knots. Over-evaluating can undermine our progress, like the farmer who pulls out a corn seedling to see if it’s growing yet. Imagine trying to learn to ride a bike while obsessing, “Am I doing this right? How do I look?” We may be looking for approval when we should be looking for balance, or expecting perfection when what is needed is lots of repeated practice.

Below is a useful list that can serve as a guide for evaluating your practice. While no two practitioners are exactly alike, these are general areas you can check that will give you a good idea where you are.

Motivation

First, ask yourself what your motivation is. Why are you practicing? Meditation practice flourishes when it is supported by clear intention.

There are many answers to this question. Because no one should decide for you what your goals are, it is useful to spend some time reflecting on this. I regularly advise people to discover what their deepest intention is. What do they really want? What is the heart’s deepest wish? While some people have worthwhile intentions for their meditation, the practice can have greater value when it is clearly connected to what is most important to us.

At times our intention is well-articulated; at other times it may not be obvious. Chances are you’ve experienced both of these ways. Sometimes, early on, I intuitively knew I wanted to sit, but I didn’t know why. I just knew there was a strong pull towards practice. At other times, the reason was clear: I knew I suffered and that I wanted to be free of my suffering. Sometimes I was aware of conventional suffering; sometimes, although free of conventional suffering, I had a clear insight that there was a deep, inner dissatisfaction, that suffering was at the core of the way my mind worked. I wanted to somehow find it, touch it, and understand it. Meditation was the only route I knew to reach this core, and I was highly motivated to do so.

Our motivation can be to awaken and cultivate beautiful qualities of the heart and mind—love, peace, courage, compassion, insight, understanding, the pursuit of the truth and liberation. Developing these qualities does not need to be for oneself. Sometimes my primary motivation to practice has been not for my own sake but for other people. In fact, I believe that if you do it only for yourself, you are unlikely to sustain your motivation over many years. A significant way to fuel meditation practice is to do it with the wish that it will somehow benefit others as well as yourself.

There are long-term and short-term motivations. Experiences of realization may be worthy long-term goals, but in the short term it can be useful to have modest aims such as cultivating small but noticeable improvements in concentration, non-distraction, compassion, or patience, as well as small, immediate movements toward letting go and experiencing freedom. I have found there is a beautiful way in which practicing with immediate, realistic goals allows for a steady maturing into some of the more developed areas of meditation practice.

It’s also important to know if your aspiration is appropriate for yourself given your present life situation. If for reasons of time, opportunities, abilities, or disposition you are not suited for the goals you have set for yourself, the primary result will be frustration, a state that is counterproductive to a practice meant to increase freedom from suffering. While it can be important to allow for grand aspirations – there is no need to be afraid of our heart’s deepest wish – it is important to consider which steps are realistic. For example, if our body carries a lot of tension, it may be important first to focus meditation on deep physical relaxation. Or, if our minds are easily distracted, it might be helpful to cultivate mental discipline before hoping for enlightenment.


Understand Yourself

There’s always more room for motivation, but does your aspirationg match who you are? You can read a book feeling convinced that you should do A, B, and C, but it may not suit your life at this time. Or maybe what your teacher is telling you is not a fit. For instance, if we should be focusing on our personal ethics, it may not be appropriate to spend a lot of time with a teaching that emphasizes ultimate liberation.

Do you know how you learn best? Some people learn best by reading, others by listening, others by watching, and others by doing. Some people do best when there is discipline and structure. Others learn best through playfulness, self-direction, or intuitive experimentation. Some people find reading and studying helpful; others may not. Extroverts might find it helpful to discuss their meditation with friends; introverts may find they work best when they have quiet time for personal reflection. By knowing yourself in these ways, it may be possible to find an approach to meditation that suits you. Since it is important not to tailor a meditation practice around personal preferences and attachments, it can be useful to ask a meditation teacher or another meditation practitioner for feedback about your approach to the practice.

Understanding the Instructions

You may be strongly motivated but not know how to do the practice. I meet plenty of meditators who are vague about what they are actually doing in meditation beyond relaxing and trying to have some focus. Some people know the basic instruction but not much about how to practice with the difficulties that may occur while attempting to act on that instruction. Some people who do mindfulness meditation may know how to be mindful of their breath or their body sensations but have little understanding about how to be mindful of emotions or mental states. In insight meditation there are whole series of instructions for working with the breath, body, emotions, thoughts (quality of mind), and intentions, as well as for walking meditation and mindful speaking. It is useful to know them all.

Do you understand what the relationship is between meditation practice and your daily life? Hopefully, for Buddhists, one’s whole life is one’s practice. Do you know how to live your daily life so that it supports your meditation? And do you know how to meditate so that it benefits your daily life? The poet Gary Snyder wrote:

All of us are apprenticed to the same teacher that the religious institutions originally worked with: reality. Reality insight says, “Master the 24 hours, do it well, without self-pity.” It is as hard to get the children herded into the carpool and down the road to the bus as it is to chant sutras in the Buddha hall on a cold morning. One move is not better than the other; each can be quite boring, and they both have the virtuous quality of repetition. Repetition and ritual and their good results come in many forms: changing the oil filter, wiping noses, going to meetings, picking up around the house, washing dishes, checking the dipstick. Don’t let yourself think these are distracting you from your more serious pursuits. Such a round of chores is not a set of difficulties we hope to escape from so that we may do our practice, which will put us on the path. It is our path.

You might understand the instructions but not know how to do the practice. For example, if your practice is to follow your breath, do you know how to do it? If it is done with striving, expectation, hesitation, or laziness, meditation probably won’t unfold well. One might not know what specifically to focus on when concentrating on the breath, so the mind never settles into concentration.

One’s attitude toward practice is very important. Is there adequate patience, equanimity, kindness, energy, and discipline? Do you understand the balance between having a goal in practice and at the same being present without being preoccupied with the goal?

Balance

Is your life balanced enough to support a regular and useful meditation practice? It can be counterproductive to add meditation to a life already packed with too many activities. Do you have a healthy balance between work and time off? Is there an appropriate balance between time with others and time alone? Do you get enough exercise so that a good sense of vitality supports your practice? Do you get enough sleep to stay awake during meditation? Some people need sleep more than meditation.

A number of factors need to come into balance during meditation itself. There is the balance between faith and wisdom or confidence and understanding. There is the balance between energy and concentration. Some classic teachings stress the importance of balancing the quieting forces of calm, concentration, and equanimity with the activating forces of investigation, effort, and joy.

The balance between the body and the mind are important. Ideally, meditation practice engages both. One of the very useful things to cultivate in meditation is a balanced meditation posture that allows for a dynamic interplay of physical relaxation with physical alertness or uprightness. It is possible to cultivate a body that is both soft and strong. It is lot easier to work with the mind in meditation if the body has been included from the start.

Obstacles

What are your obstacles in meditation practice? Where are the attachments? Where do you get stuck? Are there any regular patterns to the challenges you have in meditation?

One of the important ways to sharpen your meditation practice is to understand the difficulties in meditation. Among the many challenges are obsessive thinking, desires, aversions, sluggishness, restlessness, psychological or emotional issues, fear of altered states, boredom, complacency, and excessive striving. Attachment to pleasure or resistance to discomfort may also interfere.

Unethical or unskillful behavior can also be a significant obstacle to deeper states of meditation. Here’s a story that points to this idea:

A few years ago, at an alcohol treatment center in the suburbs of Chicago, staff members reported an intriguing discovery. Many of the counselors lived at some distance from the facility, each day commuting via a tollroad. Then one day the state of Illinois instituted an honor system in the toll collection booths in the area. No attendant, no barrier gate, just a basket into which motorists were expected to toss their coins. Staff at the treatment center made observations that soon added up to an axiom: counselors who don’t throw their money in, their patients don’t get well. As one counselor phrased it, “How can you instill honesty in a program if you’re not honest yourself? Honesty is indivisible.”

Another interesting thing to look at is how much self is involved when you practice. Self-judgment, self-criticism, self-image, self-definition are among the forms of self-concern that when used excessively undermine meditation practice. All meditation practices require that one relax self-preoccupation. Just like being too tense to ride a bike, when people are too concerned with themselves it can be very difficult for the mind to be soft enough to settle into meditation.

Every meditator has challenges. Rather then taking the obstacles as problems or as unfortunate distractions, a more useful attitude is to patiently and contentedly learn the skills and insights that can transform them into stepping stones along the path of practice. Every meditation tradition has its own approach to working with meditation obstacles. When one learns to recognize one’s own obstacles then one can ask a meditation teacher what her or his approach is.

Insight

An important part of practice is appreciating the insights that come with it. It’s not just a matter of becoming calm, but also understanding how your mind works, how your heart works, and what the causes and conditions of suffering and liberation are. As you look more deeply, can you see how you create a sense of self?

We often take the self for granted. But Buddhist practice shows us that much of what you think of as self is a construct, an activity shaped moment by moment. If you see this creative aspect, you’ll gain an insight that is freeing.

There’s also insight into beautiful states of mind: how compassion works and its value; lovingkindness and how to cultivate it. Insights into these states help to cultivate and strengthen them. One of the purposes in meeting with a teacher is not to discuss your difficulties but to discuss your understandings and insights. “This is the understanding I’ve come to. What do you think of that?”

The most important insight is to understand how clinging works—the nature of grasping and clinging in all its gross and subtle forms. All of Buddhism will open up for you if you understand the nature of clinging, what you cling to, and how to let go.

Understanding the Benefits of Practice

Sooner or later our practice brings benefits. Sometimes you have to be patient; sometimes, the benefits are immediate. Ideally, you see how even a single moment of meditation has immediate benefits. At the same time, I hope practitioners have some sense of how it can lead to deeper possibilities of liberation.

Over time, meditation should bring some clear benefits such as greater compassion, joy, ease, and self-understanding. Some people discover greater capacities for courage and resolve. Others feel increased appreciation and gratitude. And hopefully, one finds increased experiences of freedom. If after a of couple years of regular meditation practice one doesn’t experience any of these benefits, it is important to reevaluate what one is doing. Perhaps the criteria given above could help to discover some way that the meditation can be improved. Or perhaps it is time to discuss one’s meditation practice with a good teacher. However, sooner or later I hope that all meditators can become their own teachers. Learning to evaluate one’s own practice wisely is an important step toward such independence.

Article: “The Relational and the Non-Relational Dimensions of Buddhist Practice” by Gil Fronsdal

Buddhism offers teachings, practices, and profound realizations for two different dimensions of life: the relational and the non-relational. Classically, these two were referred to as the conditioned and the unconditioned dimensions. A modern way of distinguishing them is to point out that the first has to do with that which occurs or exists only in relationship to other things. The second is that which is independent of any relationship to anything else. In human terms, the first involves all the ways of behaving and thinking which are relational. The second are the non-relational ways of being. When these two ways are emphasized equally they complement each other in creating a balanced life. Sometimes, however, one dimension is emphasized while the other is neglected, or even belittled.The cost of doing so is often a painful segregation of these two important aspects of life.

In the Buddhist analysis, almost everything we do and think involves being in relationship with something. Our concerns can be focused on other people, the external world, and ourselves, including the complex inner world of ideas, opinions, feelings, preferences, and desires. This is not surprising since our very existence depends on being supported by things that exist in relationship to us. Normally when we care for our physical, emotional, and social needs we are acting in relationship to the sources of satisfaction for those needs. When we care for someone who is suffering, we are relating to that person.

Many aspects of the relational world are quite beautiful and inspiring; compassion, love, and generosity are among the most meaningful attitudes that arise in relationship to others. Appreciating how our lives are thoroughly dependent on the supportive relationships of innumerable people, mostly unknown, can give birth to a gratitude that is experienced as deeply spiritual. Direct realizations of how interconnected everything in the world is can be among the most significant experiences in a person’s life. At the upper reaches of healthy relationships to the world are powerful, mystical experiences of oneness, and unity. These can include pervasive feelings of universal love that some people see as the pinnacle of their spiritual life.

Many, if not most, Buddhist teachings are concerned with creating healthy relationships within the relational world. This is certainly the case for the foundational practices of generosity, ethics, loving-kindness and compassion. Many of the inner practices, such as meditation, involve transforming how we relate to ourselves so that we don’t undermine our life with negative attitudes and instead regard ourselves with respect and loving-kindness.

One of the most important insights of Buddhism similarly concerns the relational world. The understanding that allowed the Buddha to become liberated was his insight into how things of the world arise in dependent relationship with other things. Nothing that appears exists alone. Everything exists in relationship. By understanding this, when the Buddha saw that suffering exists in a dependent relationship to craving, he could then see how suffering could be brought to an end when the craving ceases.

While Buddhism puts great emphasis on developing healthy and wise relationships to the world, it also includes an understanding of the drawbacks of the relational world: Interconnectedness is dangerous when a tick infects us with Lyme disease or we lose our job because it is outsourced abroad. Unity can be oppressive when a person feels trapped in a social, economic, or political structure where what one can and can’t do is controlled by others.

Buddhism never tires in pointing out that the relational world is unstable and unpredictable. The relationships upon which our life depends can change or even disappear in a moment. This includes our relationships to other people, to things, to activities, to our bodies, and to all the other various aspects of ourselves. If our happiness is dependent on the relational world, then our happiness will be as unstable and changeable as is the world.

When someone meditates it becomes clear that most of our mental activity is concerned with things and people we are in relationship with. It can be quite humbling to realize how compulsive and stressful this mental activity is. Even when our thoughts and feelings about others are healthy and appropriate ones, in meditation even these can hold us back from a deeper, abiding sense of peace. To experience the fullest possibility of peace and freedom we need to put to rest all our preoccupations and concerns, at least temporarily. Our mind does not need to be constantly relating to something. It is possible to still the activity of the mind and so experience a peace that is a radical alternative to how the mind usually operates. For this purpose, Buddhism points to the non-relational dimension of consciousness.

When someone experiences how nourishing the non-relational way of being is, they realize there is a happiness that is not dependent on the conditions of their lives or of the world. If someone believes happiness is only found in particular relationships with the world, then it makes sense to try to control, change, and cling to people, things, and circumstances. When an alternative is known, it is a lot easier to relax the grip of clinging and dependency. It can be a lot easier to meditate when we realize we don’t have to always be thinking about things.

The non-relational dimension of the mind is found through a not-doing, and so involves letting go of our efforts to do, accomplish, avoid, and change what is happening. Most often, this is a gradual process of calming down and quieting the mind. As the mind becomes more still, a point is reached when the meditator realizes that wanting further deepening of the peace is the very thing that stands in the way of this peace. At some point even letting go can be too much doing. Letting things be becomes the only possibility.

As we calm down it is possible to sense a way of being in this world which is non-relational. That is, our minds are not operating with any concerns or relationships to anything. With this comes a deepening sense of well-being. As our mind becomes less preoccupied with the relational world, deeper wellsprings of loving-kindness, empathy, and insight can arise. Our relationships tend to become healthier, simpler and more straightforward.

As the mind becomes simpler, more peaceful and less caught up in things, a time comes when all the intentional and relational activity of the mind comes to a stop. Awareness can exist without it being brought into the service of the mind’s desires and aversions. It just is. This non-relational way of being defies exact definition. It is impossible to cling to this state or to claim it as one’s own because to do so is to leave the non-relational state and return to being in relationship to something. It is a little like grabbing an open hand with the hand itself – the open hand disappears as soon as the hand closes around itself. We can know that we are experiencing the mind that is not relating to anything but we can’t touch it with thought, description or any form of self-appropriation.

To have a full experience of the non-relational state of mind is to experience one of the most profound forms of well-being, peace, and liberation. To have confidence in this possibility, and even better, to feel the continued background presence of this dimension in one’s mind, allows one to live in the relational world with ease and wisdom. It also opens our hearts to greater compassion, which is one of the most valuable emotions of the relational world. In Buddhism the combination of these two – liberation and compassion, non-relational and relational – is considered the ultimate relationship. Ideally the two dimensions go hand in hand, and as your practice matures you get the best of both worlds.

—Gil Fronsdal

Article: “The Dharma and the Path of Harmlessness” by Gil Fronsdal

“A wise person does not intend harm to self or to others. A wise person intends benefit for self, for others, and for the whole world.”

-The Buddha

The full scope of Buddhist practice is conveyed through the word ‘Dharma.’ This word has a number of meanings that depend on the context in which it is used. Sometimes it refers to the teachings and practices of the Buddha, but its most significant meaning is the natural truths, laws and processes of the path of practice he taught.  For many Buddhists the Dharma is the object of their greatest commitment and devotion.  It is a source of refuge, guidance, and ultimate meaning, and, most importantly, it is what allows for the Liberation taught by the Buddha.

The Dharma is characterized by and expressed through non-harming, and the path of the Buddha is a path of harmlessness.  The Dharma of the Buddha can help us discover a peace we only experience when we aren’t causing suffering to ourselves or others.  This peace is called Liberation or Awakening when it includes, if even for just a short time, a full cessation of suffering.

The Dharma is not something outside of oneself; it is not an external power working through our lives. Nor is it something personal that we can claim as our own. It is not a ‘thing’ that exists by itself.  Rather, it is a process that exists only when activated. Just as a fist appears only when we clench our hand, so the Dharma only emerges when we behave in certain ways.  However, unlike a fist, we don’t create the Dharma directly; we create the conditions that allow it to appear.

The way the Dharma arises can be compared to floating in freshwater.  When we float, we may say the water supports us, but, in fact, the water alone is not sufficient to keep us from drowning.  If we don’t know how to float, and we thrash around in fear or only relax and trust, the water won’t hold us up.  Floating is a learned skill that depends on our having both the intention to float and the skill.  Once the skill is mastered, being supported by the water can seem almost effortless. But since floating safely does not depend only on our skill and intention, it doesn’t make sense to take complete credit for it. The dynamic interplay of the water, our bodies, intention, and skill creates the floating.

Floating is like the Dharma.  As a support for our lives, the Dharma is not found in the external world nor is it some inherent essence of our human nature.  It appears in the interaction of the world, aspects of our human nature, and particular skills and behaviors.  The Dharma is neither separate from us nor something we are solely responsible for. Just as part of the skill of floating is relaxing and letting go of activities that interfere with floating, so too, the skill that allows the Dharma to arise and support us includes letting go of what undermines that support.  But the Dharma is not found simply by letting go any more than floating safely in water simply requires relaxing. Certain skills and intentions need to be present for the Dharma to appear and to function.  It is through the way we live that the Dharma can have a role in our lives.

The essence of this way of life is a devotion to non-harming.  It is all too easy to harm others and ourselves with our thoughts, self-concepts and emotional reactions and quite difficult to overcome the causes of these mental activities.  For this reason, it is important to have something that helps us minimize such harm and its causes.  For Buddhists this something is the Dharma.

An important Dharma teaching is the Four Noble Truths.  These pragmatic perspectives are based on a seemingly simple way of being in the world: if you stop doing something that is causing harm, the harming ceases. What makes this principle challenging are all the forms of self-harm which are not easy to stop.  Addictions to desires, compulsions toward anger, obsessions with fear, and attachments to self can be so deeply rooted in the mind that they are hard to recognize, let alone stop.

In Buddhist shorthand, these addictions, compulsions, obsessions, and attachments are referred to as clinging or craving.  When the contraction of clinging is pervasive it leads to stress, which makes us vulnerable to such human instincts as fear, aggression, and greed. When these qualities are activated it can be easy to behave in ways that lead to further harm to ourselves or others.  Buddhism emphasizes that craving is a condition for further craving and that intentions to harm tend to motivate more of the same.

In contrast, letting go of clinging creates conditions for further letting go, and non-harming motivates more non-harming.  Stress decreases with the lessening of clinging which then leads to relaxed states of being.  Calm and relaxed states, in turn, activate our human instincts for empathy and caring and our capacities for creativity and wisdom, all of which support our practice on the Buddhist path and help bring forth the Dharma.

As for Dharma practice, it is helpful to appreciate that empathy, caring, attention, and wisdom occur not only because we consciously decide to have them occur, but also because conditions are in place to activate them.  When we practice the Dharma we create the conditions for our best qualities to function.  As these beneficial faculties are expressed more actively in our lives, we discover that our lives are being supported by forces independent of our self-conscious efforts and self-centered attachments.  As these forces protect, guide and liberate, people often feel increasing confidence in the power of the Dharma in their lives.

The Buddhist practices of non-harming that bring forth the Dharma in our lives are encapsulated within the Eightfold Path.  These eight practices include wise understanding of what causes suffering, living ethically so we don’t cause harm, and developing mental capacities such as mindfulness and concentration so that we can let go of the deep mental roots of clinging.  Initially, these are trainings we intentionally undertake. With practice, these become less something we undertake and more who we are.  They become how we naturally act. When someone has fully matured in the Dharma it is said they become the Eightfold Path, they become the Dharma.

The more our practice reveals the Dharma the less sense it makes to take credit for the Dharma working through us, just as we don’t take credit for a refreshing breeze on our palm when we open our fist.  It is our task to open the fist in our heart so we can be refreshed by the Dharma, by the winds of compassion, wisdom, and freedom.

Article: Letting Go by Gil Fronsdal

Letting go is an important practice in everyday life, as well as on the path of liberation.  Daily life provides innumerable small and large occasions for letting go of plans, desires, preferences, and opinions. It can be as simple as when the weather changes, and we abandon plans we had for the day. Or it can be as complex as deciding what to sacrifice, when pulled between the needs of family, friends, career, community, or spiritual practice.  Daily life provides many situations where letting go is appropriate, or even required.  Learning how to do so skillfully, is essential to a happy life.

Buddhist practice leads to a letting go that is more demanding than what ordinary life usually requires. Beyond relinquishing particular desires and opinions, we practice letting go of the underlying compulsion to cling to desires and opinions. The liberation of Buddhism is not just letting go of outdated and inaccurate self-concepts; it also involves giving up a core conceit that causes us to cling to ideas of who we are or aren’t.  Liberation is releasing the deepest attachments we have.

The practice of letting go is often mistrusted. One good reason for this mistrust is because, without wisdom, it is easy to let go of the wrong things; for example, when we let go of such healthy pursuits as exercising or eating well, instead of our clinging to those pursuits.  Another reason for mistrust, is that letting go or renunciation, can suggest deprivation, weakness, and personal diminishment if we think we have to abandon our views and wishes in favor of the views and wishes of others.

It is possible to let go either of a thing or of the grasping we have to that thing.  In some circumstances, it is appropriate to give something up. In others, it is more important to let go of the grasping.  When someone is addicted to alcohol, it is necessary to renounce alcohol.  However, when someone is clinging to the past, it is not the past that needs to be abandoned, rather it is the clinging. If the past is rejected, it can’t be a source of understanding.  When there is no clinging to it, it is easier to learn the lessons the past provides.

At times, it is important to understand the shortcomings of what we are clinging to before we are able to let go.  This may require investigation into the nature of what we are holding on to. For example, many people have found it easier to let go of arrogance when they see clearly the effect it has on one’s relationships with others.  When we see clearly what money can and can’t do for us, it can be easier to let go of the idea that money will give us a meaningful life.

Sometimes it is more important to understand the shortcomings of the grasping itself rather than the object of grasping.  Grasping always hurts. It is the primary source of suffering.  It limits how well we can see what is happening.  When it is strong, clinging can cause us to lose touch with ourselves. It interferes with our ability to be flexible and creative and it can be a trigger for afflictive emotions.

By investigating both the grasping itself and the object of our grasping, it becomes possible to know which of these we need to let go of.  If the object of grasping is harmful, then we let go of that.  If the object of grasping is beneficial, then we can let go of the grasping so that what is beneficial remains.  Helping a neighbor, caring for your own health and welfare, or enjoying nature can be done with or without clinging.  It is accomplished much better without the clinging.

The Buddhist practice of letting go, has two important sides that fit together like the front and back of one’s hand. The first side, which is the better known, is letting go of something.  The second side is letting go into something.  The two sides work together like letting go of the diving board while dropping into the pool, or giving up impatience and then relaxing into the resulting ease.

While letting go can be extremely beneficial, the practice can be even more significant when we also learn to let go into something valuable. From this side, letting go is more about what is gained than what is lost.  When we let go of fear, it may also be possible to let go into a sense of safety or a sense of relaxation.  Forsaking the need to be right or to have one’s opinions justified can allow a person to settle into a feeling of peace.  Letting go of thoughts might allow us to open to a calmer mind.  By letting go into something beneficial, it can be easier to let go of something harmful.  At times, people don’t want to let go because they don’t see the alternative as better than what they are holding on to.  When something is clearly gained by letting go, it can be easier to do so.

We can see the Buddhist emphasis on what is gained through letting go by how the tradition understands renunciation.  While the English word implies giving something up, the Buddhist analogy for renunciation, is to go out from a place that is confined and dusty, into a wide open, clear space. It is as if you have been in a one room cabin with your relatives, snowed in for an entire winter.  While you may love your relatives, what is gained when you open the door and get out into the spring, probably feels exquisite.

One of the nice things about letting go into something is that it has less to do with willing something or creating something than it does with allowing or relaxing. Once we know how to swim, it can be relaxing to float by allowing the water to hold us up.  Once we know how to have compassion, there may be times when we not only let go of ill-will, but also let go into a sense of empathy.  Letting go of fear, may then also be resting back into a sense of calm.

A wonderful result of letting go is to experience each moment as being enough, just as it is.  It allows us to be present for our experience here and now with such clarity and freedom that this very moment stands out as something profound and significant.  We can let go of the headlong rush into the future, as well as the various, imaginative ways we think, “I’m not enough” or “this moment is not good enough”, so we can discover a well-being and peace not dependent on what we want or believe.

A fruit of Buddhist practice is to have available a greater range of wholesome, beautiful and meaningful inner states to let go into.  In particular, one can come to know a pervasive peace, accessible through both letting go and letting go into.  The full maturity of this peace is when we let go of our self as the person experiencing the peace.  With no self, there is just peace.

Article: Friendship on the Path by Gil Fronsdal

It can be easy to think Buddhist practice is individualistic and solitary.  Teachings on being mindful of oneself and taking responsibility for one’s actions can seem to emphasize a focus on oneself.  The practice of sitting in meditation with one’s eyes closed can also suggest that Buddhism is about separating oneself from society.  While certainly an important part of the practice is personal and inwardly focused, this is only a part of what Buddhist practice is about.  A much more significant part of the practice is interpersonal; it concerns the rich world of our relationships with others.  In fact, the interpersonal teachings and practices of Buddhism create the context and the foundation for the inner, personal practices such as meditation.

Though many people don’t start Buddhist practice this way, traditionally it is said to begin with creating healthy relationships with others.  This part of the path is usually called training in sila or virtue.  Sila is concerned with all aspects of our everyday behavior, especially in the ways that our actions involve relating with others.  It is about having all our relationships be helpful and supportive for others as well as for ourselves.  In some descriptions of the Buddhist path, sila begins with the practice of generosity.  Done wisely, practicing generosity creates a healthy relationship between the giver and receiver.  As this is at the beginning of the Buddhist path, it underscores that our social interactions are an important part of Buddhism.

The practice of living by the precepts, as one aspect of sila, is also about our interpersonal relationships.  It is the practice of training to develop caring, compassionate relationships with others rather than harmful ones, generous ones rather than greedy ones, honest ones rather than dishonest ones.

The Buddhist emphasis on cultivating loving kindness, compassion, appreciative joy, and equanimity includes developing caring and empathic attitudes toward others.  With practice, these attitudes become the orientation for everything we do and the very motivation for doing the more solitary practices.

An important part of the interpersonal aspect of Buddhist practice is having spiritual friendships.  The Buddha emphasized this when he said that the precursor for the Eight Fold Path is having good spiritual friends (kalyana mitta).  These are the people with whom we share the practice and who support us in the practice.  While it includes our peers on the path, the term kalyana mitta is also a common expression for a Buddhist teacher in our Theravada Buddhist tradition.  For us, a teacher is more a friend than a guru, more a supporter than an authority figure.

The idea that good friendships are the precursor for the path of practice was particularly important in the pre-literate times of the Buddha.  Since there were no books that would introduce people to the teachings and practice, the introduction always came in person, through a “good spiritual friend.”  In our times, the easy availability of books on Buddhism makes it possible for people to begin their practice without personal contact with another person.  While this is certainly a useful development, it is easy to lose sight of the important context that direct human relationships create in learning about the Buddhist teachings and practice.

It can be very helpful to have examples of other people’s practice.  Undoubtedly, some people can learn to play a musical instrument through instructions in a book.  But to watch how others play the instrument can enhance their learning.  In the same way, seeing people demonstrate how Buddhist teachings can be practiced and expressed can provide important lessons for how we can practice.

Friends on the path also provide support and encouragement.  Without practice friends, one can feel isolated and even a bit odd in one’s community for being the only person who meditates, or doesn’t gossip, or doesn’t drink alcohol.  Knowing others who practice and who share the same values can sometimes make the difference between practicing and not practicing.

Good friends are important sources of feedback.  This can happen gradually as we see ourselves mirrored by others.  Our mindlessness can be seen more clearly if we are around mindful people.  Our lack of ethical behavior can be highlighted by being with more ethical people.  Our conceit about our understanding or our practice can become clear when we are with people who hold themselves lightly or who show no support or interest in our conceit.

Feedback can also occur explicitly.  By developing friendships we can create the trust and goodwill that allows for frank discussions about our behavior, our practice, and our understanding.  It is quite common for others to see things about ourselves that we don’t see.  Having these things pointed out can be extremely helpful.  The longer the friendship, the better our friend knows us and so the more likely the feedback is well informed.

Dharma friendships are also wonderful places to have Dharma discussions.  To explore the teachings and our experiences in practice through conversations with others can deepen our understanding in many ways.  It can bring us new perspectives, questions and areas for further investigation.  To have these discussions with people who know us well adds to the value of these conversations.

Often enough it is not easy to create good spiritual friendships.  It requires both patience and deliberate effort.  Probably the single most helpful way to create friendships is to be friendly.  Try to cultivate some authentic acceptance, warmth, interest, and caring for others.  Become a good listener, and when asked, be willing to reveal yourself to others.  Spiritual friendships grow with honesty.  If we pretend to be “spiritual” or if we hide what we are really feeling or thinking, real friendship can’t grow.  If we share how we are practicing, including both our successes and our shortcomings, then people will have a better chance of getting to know who we are.

It is interesting that the near enemy of friendship is flattery.  In Buddhism, a near enemy of an ideal is that which looks like the ideal but actually detracts from it.  A flatterer can seem like a friend but actually is undermining the possibility of a real friendship.  Honesty nourishes friendship, undeserved praise does not.

Friends create an important context for any individual’s Buddhist practice.  Hopefully, friendship shows that we don’t just practice for ourselves.  We also practice with and for our friends, community and others.  Friendships also teach us that the fruits of practice are not something we keep for ourselves.  They are something that we share.  We can be good friends to others. As we become freer we are thereby granting greater freedom to others, at least in terms of liberating them from having to contend with our greed, hatred, and prejudices.  Mindfulness, love, and the path of practice can be the channels through which we have meaningful relationships with others. And meaningful relationships, in turn, support us on the path to greater mindfulness, love and awakening.  It is my hope that we all cultivate friendships that support us in our practice.

—Gil Fronsdal

Article: Awakening with Dependent Origination

A person who was lost in the jungle may not have learned the way out if he or she accidentally stumbles out. Lost in the jungle again, the person may be no wiser about how to get free. On the other hand, if a lost person carefully studies the jungle and learns the way out, he or she may never become lost in that jungle again. The person may even become a guide helping others out.

The Buddha didn’t stumble out of the jungle of suffering; he learned the skills, signposts, and path that led out. He spent many years, in many ways, teaching the way to freedom. In contrast, he said little about what the experience of freedom actually is. He focused mostly on how one becomes free and what one becomes free from or what one no longer experiences. Perhaps freedom cannot be described as any particular experience. It is like two people who are lost in the jungle together for a long time. When they both find their way out, they both experience the same freedom from the jungle. However, what they do and experience once out of the jungle may be very different from each other. What they may have in common is knowing how to avoid getting lost again, and they may both have strong confidence in the path out of the jungle.

One of the useful descriptions the Buddha gave for the way out of suffering is the twelve steps of what is called “Liberative Dependent Origination” (LDO). These steps are successive mental states, each dependent on the presence of the preceding one, which create the conditions for not only becoming free, but for really knowing one is free. The Liberative Dependent Origination sequence is offered in contrast to the more commonly taught twelve-fold dependent origination sequence that describes the main causal conditions that lead to suffering.

Just as one must first know oneself to be lost in order to search for a way out of the jungle, so one must know one is suffering in order to start a process that frees one from that suffering. Because this recognition is so important, the sequence of Liberative Dependent Origination begins with an honest confrontation with our suffering. Many alternative descriptions other than ‘suffering’ can be used for what is understood in this first, underappreciated step. For some, it may take the form of know- ing oneself to be ignorant, that one doesn’t yet know what it takes to be liberated from one’s distress. For others it might be an understanding of how the way one has been living doesn’t really work.

Between knowing one is suffering and starting to walk a path to freedom there needs to be adequate confidence in the path and in one’s capacity to walk it. Ignorance or doubt about the path can lead to inaction or to other pursuits. While even a modest amount of confidence can be enough to start, the stronger the confidence, the greater resolve one can have for engaging in the process of liberation. Dependent on confidence, the second step in the LDO, there can arise delight, the third step.This is gladness in knowing there is a path one has the capacity to discover and follow.

The fourth step is a joy that depends on the delight of the previous step. It is a joy that arises in direct proportion to how enthusiastically absorbed one is in practices that are a part of the path to freedom. Particularly important is meditative joy, since the next four steps are usually developed most fully in meditation practice.

Confidence, delight, and joy, by dispelling anxiety and agitation, help a person become tranquil, which is the fifth step. When the excitation of meditative joy diminishes while its clarity and concentration remain, this tranquility becomes a pervasive calm and stillness. Since the exuberance of joy can be quite attractive and meaningful, it sometimes takes a long time before a person feels ready to move on to more tranquil states.

Tranquility makes possible the arising of happiness, the sixth step in the LDO. This happiness is a broad sense of well-being which is calmer and more satisfying than joy.

This well-being is important for the development of concentration, the seventh step. This is because concentration depends on lessening agitation while the mind becomes unified in its ability to stay focused. As tranquility reduces agitation, happiness supports the unification.

The eighth step is the ‘knowledge-and-vision-of-things-as-they-are.’ This involves profound and direct insight into the transient and impersonal aspect of our experiences and how unsatisfactory it is to cling to any of it. It can also involve a clear realization of the Four Noble Truths. Sometimes at this stage there can be a complete, but temporary release of all grasping. This experience is quite important because it shows that liberation is possible and worthwhile. Perhaps it is like climbing a hill- top where, standing above the jungle, one can see the end of the jungle in the distance. Though one must descend again into the jungle, one is now certain about the direction to be taken. Experiencing a thorough, but temporary, release from clinging strengthens confidence, which in turn helps develop the succeeding steps of Liberative Dependent Origination.

Dependent on having seen things-as-they-are, there follows a grow- ing disillusionment with the idea that there is anything worth clinging to. This in turn encourages a gradual weakening of the tendency to cling. In the sequence of LDO this disillusionment is called ‘disenchantment’ and the weakening of clinging is called ‘dispassion.’ These two are the ninth and tenth steps in LDO. As the thinning of the trees indicates one is coming to the edge of the jungle, so with the weakening of clinging a practitioner can have a clear sense that freedom is near by.

When grasping has weakened enough, a time comes when it is fully dropped. This eleventh step in the twelve-fold sequence is what the Buddha called Liberation. Since suffering depends on clinging, with the cessation of clinging, one is liberated from both clinging and suffering.

The final step in LDO is to understand what forms of clinging have come to an end with the experience of liberation. For the Buddha, liberation is not enough. It is important to understand what has changed when one is liberated. In part, this is a safeguard against believing one is enlightened when one isn’t. The final step in the awakening process is not described as any particular state—and certainly not as some form of annihilation or void. Rather the sequence ends with knowledge. One knows through personal experience the path that led to this freedom. A person who walks a path without understanding this may not be able to teach it to others.

The twelve-fold steps of LDO are not so much a step-by-step approach to Buddhist practice as they are a description of how the fruits of the practice lead naturally all the way to liberation. It is a reminder that the path to liberation is a gradual progression that unfolds if one can use the recognition of suffering as an inspiration to develop confidence and skill in Dharma practice. Even more important, it teaches that liberation is not a mysterious process dependent on forces outside of our own heart and mind. The Buddhist path clearly depends on our own efforts to cultivate personal qualities that enable deep insight and release. While the right conditions have to be in place for liberation to occur, when one cultivates those conditions, a time comes when self-effort can fall away and the Dharma can flower in our hearts and minds.

— Gil Fronsdal

Suffering → Confidence → Delight → Joy → Tranquility → Happiness → Concentration → Seeing things as they are → Disenchantment → Dispassion → Liberation → Knowledge

Article: Awakening to Dependent Origination

Deep, indeed is this dependent origination. It is through not understanding and penetrating it that people become entangled like a tangled ball of threads.

—The Buddha (Long Discourse No. 15)

When the Buddha awakened, he awakened to something. With the stilling of his mind and the dropping of his attachments, he awoke to Dependent Origination and attained liberation. This insight is the foundation of everything else he subsequently taught.

The principle of Dependent Origination is that when anything arises dependent on particular conditions, it ceases with the ceasing of those conditions. So, for example, rain is dependent on clouds; when the clouds vanish, the rain stops. The Buddha used the principle of Dependent Origination to understand human suffering and how to bring that suffering to an end. According to the principle, if suffering depends on some thing, and that thing is eliminated, the suffering will come to an end. With his awakening, the Buddha understood the causes and conditions of suffering and how to remove them. It is with this insight that the Buddha could then teach a path to liberation.

By understanding the concept of Dependent Origination, the Buddha’s teachings become clear. By personally seeing Dependent Origination, the Buddha’s teachings become liberating. The importance of this insight is emphasized in the ancient saying, “One who sees Dependent Origination sees the Dhamma; one who sees the Dhamma, sees Dependent Origination.”

The Buddha’s first, succinct way of teaching Dependent Origination was with four Noble Truths which explain the cause of suffering and the conditions required for the ceasing of this cause. The first truth concerns knowing when suffering is occurring. The second truth is understanding craving as the cause of suffering. The third points to the possibility of ending that suffering. And the fourth truth describes the path to do this.

When suffering seems impenetrable and the Four Noble Truths seem too simple for penetrating the complex tangle that gives rise to the suffering, it can be useful to investigate further with the Buddha’s teaching known as the Twelve-Fold Dependent Origination. This teaching lists a sequence of twelve psycho-physical processes where each process is presented as a necessary condition for the arising of the next process. When suffering, the final link, is seen as a condition for ignorance, the first link, the twelve links are often depicted as a circle. The image of a circle is useful in that it suggests that when the processes are not interrupted, people can all too easily loop around and around in cycles of suffering.

However, all twelve processes seldom operate in a neat twelve-step sequence. More often they all also interact and shape one another in complicated ways. Instead of a circle, it might be useful to see each as different threads of a matted ball of threads. The task of mindful investigation is to discover some of the individual threads and the connections between them. It then becomes possible to begin unraveling the tangled ball of suffering. Because of the way they are all intertwined, loosening any one thread loosens the rest.

Beginning with ignorance, the first seven processes in the twelve-fold list are the conditions that give rise to craving, which is the eighth item on the list as well as the second Noble Truth. The ninth to eleventh processes are those that build on craving to create the necessary conditions for suffering, which is the twelfth process in the sequence of Dependent Origination and the first of the Noble Truths.

Ignorance, as the first step in the sequence, refers specifically to “ignoring”, or at least not understanding, our experience through the framework of the Four Noble Truths. When we are ignorant of our suffering or its cause, it is easy to look for happiness and peace in the wrong places. For example, pleasure can be mistaken for happiness; clinging and aversion can be assumed to be helpful strategies; and depending on a self-identity can be seen as important. One of the most significant symptoms of ignorance is believing that our psychological suffering is caused by external events. The teaching on Dependent Origination acts as a corrective to this by pointing to the role that our inner mental life has in suffering.

Because ignorance is the first process in the Twelve-fold Dependent Origination, all the subsequent processes are dependent on it. In other words, ignorance runs through the other eleven processes. It is said, therefore, that applying the Four Noble Truths to any of the twelve processes can untangle the ball of suffering.

Ignorance has consequences when it is the basis for how we react to the world. Ignorant reactions shape or “form” us, and this is why the second step in the twelve-fold cycle is called “formations“. Most prominent are the array of intentions and dispositions that arise dependent on ignorance. They can include such mental reactions as anger when a craving is frustrated, or anxiety when we are attached to a particular self-identity. Some of these may be momentary intentions; others may be pervasive motivations that shape both our personality and how we experience the world.

The third step, usually called ‘consciousness‘, consists of the mental processes by which we cognize or pay attention to things – processes influenced by our dispositions and conditioning. How we are mentally disposed can shape how we pay attention and what we pay attention to. Our awareness is seldom unbiased. When connected to suffering, our awareness is selective and colored by our ignorant dispositions.

How we pay attention has an influence on how we experience our ‘body and mind‘, the fourth step. So, for example, if I get angry at my suffering, this anger activates my body and mind in particular ways: I tense up, get hot, and become impatient. In addition, I might focus my attention so that I mostly notice what I don’t like about my body and mind.

The first four processes are powerful conditions for how we use our ‘senses‘, the fifth step in the sequence. For example, if the first four links are shaped by selfishness, then we may use our senses to notice only things that have an impact on our self-centeredness. If they are shaped by anger then that may filter how we see, hear, smell, taste, and touch the external world or how we ‘perceive‘ our inner world.

How the senses are directed conditions how we directly experience the world. Sixth in the sequence is ‘contact‘, the meeting of our senses with the outside world or with thoughts and feelings. People often assume that the world they experience through the senses is how the world actually is. The teaching on dependent origination suggests that when we suffer, we do not perceive accurately and the way our senses connect to the world is biased.

The seventh link is the ‘feeling tone‘ associated with any sense contact or perception. It is the seemingly impartial way in which we experience things as pleasant, unpleasant, or neutral. However, the feeling tones that are part of the twelve-fold sequence are influenced by the preceding six links and are therefore not necessarily objective.

Feeling tone is a condition for the arising of ‘craving‘, the eighth link in the dependent origination of suffering. In other words, craving is a reaction to feeling tone. It can be quite humbling to discover how many of our desires, even seemingly sophisticated ones, are responses to feelings of pleasantness and unpleasantness.

Craving is a necessary condition for ‘grasping‘, the ninth process. We are not going to cling to something unless we crave it.

The tenth step, ‘becoming‘ refers to the creation of states of being or states of mind based on grasping. It is called ‘becoming‘ because it is an ongoing process of coming into being. If I grasp onto anger, it is more than a passing reaction, it can ‘become’ a habitual response, or even a pervasive and enduring mood.

Based on my ongoing anger, I may define myself by it: ‘I am an angry person.’ Giving birth to an identity based on our state of being is the eleventh process of Dependent Origination, and is called ‘birth‘. A fixed identity is a very significant condition for suffering because of all the expectation, assertion, disappointment, fear, and anger that can be triggered as we try to support or defend ideas we hold about ourselves.

The combined working of the first eleven processes is the dependent condition for suffering, the final process in the sequence. In looking carefully at suffering it is important to remember we are always investigating the particular form it is taking. The word ‘suffering‘ is an abstraction and abstractions are difficult to explore. As a reminder to look into the particular expressions, the twelfth link has a long name: “aging, death, sorrow, lamentation, pain, grief, and despair.”

Each link is dependent on all the preceding links. This means that if a particular step is removed, the subsequent links cannot occur. If one of the links is occurring, it will cease when any of the earlier processes are stopped.

As we explore the tangled ball of our suffering, some threads are easier to discover than others and some can be addressed more directly. Using the framework of the Four Noble Truths helps untangle ignorance; insight into how our dispositions shape our experience can help us see more clearly; learning to not react to the feeling tones of experience lessens craving; not acting on cravings, lessens grasping which, in turn, lessens becoming. When the tangle of suffering is tightly woven, all these approaches may be needed. When the threads have become loose enough, a gentle tug on one strand may be all that is needed for the whole ball to unravel. And when suffering is untangled, what’s left is profound and peaceful. What’s left is not dependent on anything.

—Gil Fronsdal

(1) Ignorance → (2) Formation → (3) Consciousness → (4) Body & Mind → (5) Senses → (6) Contact → (7) Feeling Tone → (8) Craving → (9) Grasping → (10) Becoming → (11) Birth → (12) Suffering

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