an inexcusable joy

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It came as a surprise.  These things always seem to probably because I tend to sit more in blissful ignorance of how things actually work than in bliss that they do work.  My excuse for stalling on the gardening this year is that Spring actually came in April, unscheduled. It showed up early and like a guest with little social intelligence, proceeded to upend my regularly scheduled rituals of transiting into the season.  

I am a creature of habit; and once that habit is established, I will defend  to the death its right to unfold methodically.  In my little hobgoblin brain, our salvation lies only in the ability to track ourselves with precision and deliberation.  

The garden, apparently, has other ideas.  In the faux Spring, it began to send out buds, riotous greenery filled the yard and five gardens.  Shoots stuck their little green tongues out at me when I lectured them on their excessive exuberance, which I explained, would lead to an early down Fall!  I am quite sure I even heard them booing as I lowered the winter covers over them each time the temperature plummeted from heat wave levels to chilling frost.

The garden, as I said, has a different capacity to adapt to dramatic shifts in weather than I.  It seemed to ignore the drama, the strum und drang that I foisted on it each time the winds changed.  

It’s quite the practice this opening joyously, exuberantly, with wild abandon to whatever is in this moment.  With faith in one’s capacity to fold into change rather than dependence on a set of “if-then” beliefs, the surprise of joy becomes inexcusable.  It cannot be ignored, explained away, put in its place until the lawn is mowed.  It becomes unnecessary to wait for that moment when the Earth slides across some imaginary line that separates Spring from Spring Now.

Are you waiting for that moment when you can give yourself permission to begin planting seeds that nourish you?  What are you waiting for?

what can you do?

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Step Four: Take Action.  The final step in The Misleading Mind by Karuna Cayton is to use the clarity developed through the practices of stilling and connecting with our emotions.  As we see that our reality is constructed, we detach from its power to define us, to set our identity in stone.  The remainder of Cayton’s book covers a lot of ground, beginning with the way we create (and re-create) our reality and diving into the need for ethics and self-compassion.  By his definition, the litmus test of ethics – or rather the way one knows if an action is ethical – is if it leads to creating health and well being.  

I’m chewing on this.  Harkening back to the first post of this series about past actions that ripen into present karmic consequences, I have to wonder about Cayton’s definition.  I wish things were so clear-cut when choosing actions that avoid harm and foster good.  One thing I’ve learned about making decisions to divert harm: someone is always invested in the trajectory of the present moment and you’re bound to piss them off when you mess with their equation.  And the reason is simple: in your mind, their actions may bear harmful fruit; in their mind, your actions may bear harmful fruit.  I’ve often found it useful to sit with some people and, as a starting point, agree that we are likely both delusional in our perceptions.  We strike up a partnership to pool our investments and determine the best course possible.  Sometimes it works.  Sometimes it doesn’t.

There’s no “most times” because inevitably someone decides that their delusion is more important to defend than adapt.

In matters of determining ethical actions, I keep returning to René Girard’s monkeys and the banana (see Things Hidden Since the Foundation of the World).  Initially, the conflict is about eating the banana.  Inevitably however, it becomes about who owns the banana.  Getting caught in right and wrong is also like that.  Initially, it’s about the right thing to do.  Eventually, it’s about who is seen as doing the right thing.  This is where the self-awareness and clarity of mind is crucial.  Once I can see that I’ve become invested in being the one who is doing the right thing, I’ve lost the ground I stand on.

Nevertheless, I’m pleased that Cayton raises the issue of ethics as an important aspect of practice.  There can never be enough said, written, or taught about it.

you can do better

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A little lesson from Zen Master Sprout to go along with The Misleading Mind and Karuna Cayton’s Third Step: What’s going on?  Over the few months, Volvo (on the left) has been suffering the boisterous bouncing of Sprout.  He takes great delight in pouncing her off the rocking chair, sofa, zafus at every opportunity, taking advantage that she is clawless and he is fully loaded.  For a while, we worked hard at intervening, insofar as one can intervene with a lightning fast kitten who has perfected the surgical strike.  Even when we caught him and applied an appropriate reprimand, there was neither remorse nor reflection, making rehabilitation unlikely.  Shame and blame were not effective on the monster and we decided that Volvo (who was at least losing her pudginess from the running around) was going to have to handle it on her own.

The middle sections of Cayton’s book deals with the destructive emotions – he also calls them “disturbing emotions.”  Attachment, aversion, and ignorance are covered rather well.  I particularly like his work up of “ignorance” which causes all kinds of… well… confusion when we try to understand it.  Confusion, doubt, fogginess, uncertainty, illogical thinking, blind faith, forgetfulness, and absence of introspection are some of the ways we manifest ignorance.  In fact, this little list helped me track my reactions to the caterwauling when Volvo and Sprout were duking it out over something or the other.  I had no idea if leaving this up to animal nature was the right thing to do.  I think at some level my contemplation and intention in letting them sort it out was based on the eternal koan: does a cat had Buddha nature?  I was hoping they did because animal nature was not proving tolerable.

In the section on blame versus accountability, Cayton makes some clear points about the difference between the two concepts and the litmus test of that difference.  Blame leads to unskillful action; accountability leads to skillful ones.  In my rather simple terms, blame says “everything conspired so I couldn’t do better.”  Accountability says, “I can do better.  Period.”

I watched the two cats leap to the windowsill together and held my breath.  They sat there for a long time enjoying the breeze and the swooping starlings.  Sprout turned to Volvo and she made it clear that whatever he was telegraphing was not on.  No howls, snarls, or shrieks.  Just a clawless paw suspended in the space between them.

“You can do better.  Period.”

it ain’t so; you can count on it

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We’re continuing with The Misleading Mind by Karuna Cayton.  I’m trying to find the connection between Step Two: Set up your laboratory and a rationale for the practice as he’s teaching it.  I know you know.  You know I know.  I know that you know I know and vice versa.  But in a book that sets out to deal with the Trickster Mind, I really want Cayton to assume I don’t know!  But I’m going to trust his process and practice anyway hoping it leads to that pot of gold.

Reading the instructions for setting up the laboratory, I have a strong sense of Cayton’s corporate coaching persona coming through.  The language is very “go-get-’em” and the “ABC” breathing practice floats out there without much of an intention to anchor it.  I can infer the intention because I know from other experience that the practice holds promise; but it takes me away from my intention to hold a Beginner’s Mind.

The issue of “what is mind?” seems to be what he gets to in the third chapter.  How do I clarify my experience so that I can understand reality is what I create?  So, in the ABC, A is for anatomy; bring awareness to the areas of tension in the body.  B is for breathing; anchor yourself in the breath.  C is for counting (really); count the in- and out-breaths.  I can’t resist so let me infer that the sequence is to calm and steady internal turmoil.  In psychological circles, it’s a variant of progressive muscle relaxation blended with breathing to calm symptoms of anxiety.  Not a bad thing but a link to how this prepares “the laboratory” (presumably of body-mind) would have been helpful.

Enough about the book.  More about me practicing with the book.  Cayton explains that “disturbing emotions” have the power to “hypnotize us…so they become ‘reality’.”  This nugget is worth getting to and a powerhouse of energy is conferred when I work with it.  It also reminds me of Tara Brach’s use of the term “trance” in describing our habitual energies and auto-pilot.  I call it getting on trains that take us away from our experience in the moment; we believe escaping on the train as the reality because we think it’s safer or that we’re actually acting on the distress.

Later in the chapter, Cayton points out that our mind is very much like a video camera and TV screen running simultaneously.  Our sense organs (I’m interpolating) record the impingement of sensations which leaves a mental imprint.  And, at the same time, we’re layering our interpretation of the experience on that imprint.  Instantly, the process of logging the experience becomes laden with our bias, our preferences.  We create the world as we are.

And it ain’t so.  We can absolutely count on that.