I Get Letters

Every now and then, I get letters from people who stumble across this blog on their travels through the web. Every now and then, these letters seek an opinion or advice on a subject. I received one weeks ago, and I've though about it on and off... wondering what I might say in response.

The subject of this inquiry is on relationships--romantic relationships in particular. I've been single for a long time and I don't count myself an expert in this arena. Disclaimers aside, here's the question:

On my mind lately has been two words: peace and happiness (I keep hearing Al Green sing them, ala "Love and Happiness").  But I keep thinking of them as different, the difference between peace and happiness.  I am not sure what that difference is exactly.

And particularly I have been thinking about my current love relationship, and all of the love relationships I have had (not that many), and asking whether they brought me much peace.  I think we pursue relationships in order to find happiness, but perhaps we don't ask often enough whether they bring us peace.

Any thoughts?  Any experiences that come to mind?  Does a useful definition of the difference between peace and happiness come to mind?

Maybe I'm cynical. I don't know that relationships are designed to bring us happiness or peace. While in relationship to another, we may experience happiness and peace, but I don't know that it is the job of the relationship to provide those experiences.

From a Buddhist perspective, I think peace and happiness are found in the present moment and that each individual in a relationship is charged with finding his or her own peace and happiness. A relationship is an occasion for joy and peace when two people find they can meet each other in a moment--whether intimate or mundane--with compassionate attention and awareness.

But let's face it... relationships can be messy.

They are messy because we have expectations that go unmet. We want someone to be something to us--partner, lover, friend, whatever--and we have a list of job duties for the role we want them to fill. They meet less than 99.9% of our requirements and we are unhappy. They don't complete their assignments in a timely manner and we want to fire them. We think we made the wrong choice... picked the wrong person. Maybe we did. Maybe we are too picky--too attached to our ideals--too focused what's supposed to be in our perfect picture to focus on what's wonderful in this moment. We have a bad day and we want our partner to do that thing (whatever that thing is) that makes us feel better. Maybe they come home with their own bad day experience and don't live up to our desires for the moment. Instead of being attentive and encouraging, maybe they are withdrawn and sulky--focused on their own concerns.

Relationships are messy because they aren't made harmonious by magic. The magic happens as a result of commitment from both sides to grow together. The magic happens when people recognize the things they do to get in the way of the peace and happiness that can arise in a relationship and take action to get out of the way.

Relationships are messy because long-term interaction between two people requires a constant letting go and often a willingness to change. There can be no peace between people who hold on to disagreements or past hurts. There can be no peace between people who are unwilling to look at their patterns and the affect those patterns have on the people around them.

I think a lot of the work that makes for great interpersonal relationships is personal, solitary work. We often think relationships are supposed to make our lives better in some way, and maybe they do... but I think they only work when we are willing to work on ourselves... and the more we work on ourselves the more prepared we are to participate in healthy/fun/peaceful/happy/_insert adjective of choice_ relationships with others.

I think there is only one reason to ever enter into a relationship. You don't enter a relationship for what you might get out of it (though you might get a lot). You enter a relationship to connect with another person who shares the desire to connect with you. During the course of that connection, there might be great joy, great sadness, great peace, great turmoil, great pleasure, and great pain. Relationships, like everything else, are impermanent and subject to constant change. Perhaps peace and happiness are found in realizing just that.

Forgiveness

Several things have popped up recently that have caused me to consider the ways in which I tend towards (or shy away from) forgiveness.

First, there was an e-mail from a previous dating fiasco. He apologized for his conduct and lack of communication and asked for forgiveness. I didn't hesitate. I forgave him. I'm well past the frustration and hurt feelings... so it is easy to say "let bygones be bygones." Intellectually, I get that no one owes me anything. Translating that statement into dating and relationships, I get that phone calls, dates, attention of any kind is strictly voluntary... as is courteous, kind, respectful behavior. I don't expect people to be nice to me just because it is the socially acceptable (or at least preferable) way of being. So I'm learning to not be upset with people when they don't do what I want them to do. Looking back on the situation, I acknowledge that what really caused my upset was the fact that I had a certain expectation... I had a certain "desired outcome" that went bust. My fault. My bad.

Expectation is just one form of craving. And it doesn't just reserve itself for romantic relationships. It can translate to friendships as well. I've been really irritated by one of my friends lately. I find her behavior often selfish, and I'm really put off by what I perceive to be a lack of compassion or concern for any needs and desires, save her own. What I've noticed lately is that I have cut off my compassion for her. It's become some kind of game. "If you're not going to be compassionate, I'm not either. So there." Venting about it over dinner with a mutual friend last night, I caught myself. I saw how stuck I've been.

I've been stuck at work, too. I doubt I'm the only person on the planet who has that one person to deal with at work who seems utterly impossible. Well, there's one more person I approach with frustration and irritation absent any trace of compassion or forgiveness.

This week sucked. I think it mostly sucked because I've been mired in a state of unforgiveness. I didn't have one night of uninterrupted sleep. In the middle of the week, I dusted off a translation of Guide to the Bodhisattva's Way of Life. The Guide frequently reminds us that we should be grateful for all difficult people and situations because they are occasions for us to lift our spiritual muscle and be about the business of bringing dharma to life.

If, because of my own shortcomings,
I do not practice patience with my enemy,
It is not he, but I, who prevent me from practicing
     patience,
The cause of accumulating merit.

My enemy is the cause of my accumulating the
     merit of patience
Because without him there is no patience to
     practice.
Whereas with him there is.
So how does he obstruct my virtuous practice.

[... v. 103-104 from the chapter Relying on Patience in Guide to the Bodhisattva's Way of Life by Santideva. Translated by Geshe Kelsang Gyatso, pg. 86]

One of the things I appreciate about The Guide is that it does not try to suggest that reactions such as anger or unforgiveness are "improper" or "to be avoided at all costs." They are accepted as natural responses to situations and it is suggested that we should fight them (as they are delusions) without beating up on ourselves for succumbing to them.

And so that is what I do tonight.

Kalyana Mitta

This has been a beautiful week, a beautiful weekend. I decided to try something new, and threw my hat into the ring on one of the online buddhist-friendly dating services. After a week of more conversation than sleep, we met Friday over a meal (and Saturday over another meal). I think more than I'm excited about dating again, more than I'm blown away by how unreasonably hot and amazing this man is, I'm bolstered by the fact that I have found someone that I believe will be an excellent Kalyana Mitta... a supportive spiritual friend.

One of the Buddha's disciples once said to him, "It seems, venerable sir, that half the holy life is having good spiritual friends." The Buddha replied: "In fact, the whole of the holy life is having good spiritual friends." Each of us can benefit greatly from having friends who genuinely support our spiritual journey.

[...from pg. 7 of the Workbook in Insight Meditation: A Step-by-Step Course on How to Meditate with Sharon Salzberg and Joseph Goldstein]

A while ago, I read the girl's entry, what makes you beautiful. I read it in the middle of the night, and I was too incoherent to craft a thoughtful, appreciative response... but I was moved by the post. In it, she says:

Anyway, I had somehow attached being shiny and brilliant (as a kind friend recently described me, which for those of you that don’t know is a very Shambhalian thing to say) to being in love, and the conclusion that I came to during Warrior’s Assembly was that being in love had nothing to do with it. It wasn’t the love that helped me to be beautiful. It was the fact that my lover taught me to meditate.

Beauty can be a difficult thing for a woman to see in herself... especially if she is not vain, if she went through an "ugly duckling" phase that included glasses AND braces, if she was taught to see herself as her imperfections, if she's ever passed a magazine rack or watched television or movies. But (though I've been guilty of it, I know...) comparing oneself to conventional standards of beauty is a useless exercise. I think the girl is on to something... beauty can be found in the ways in which we support each other in our spiritual pursuits, in the ways we hold each other up as friends, as lovers... in the ways we act as a stand for someone... a stand for their goals, their dreams, their practice.

It means something to me, that I've been asked to be a stand for his practice. It somehow strengthens me and my resolve. I woke up this morning and I entered my practice effortlessly... yoga, meditation, breath... because keeping my word to him means keeping my word to myself. And that is a beautiful thing.

Getting Over Other People

(It's All in the Dhammapada, Post 1)

Relationships. I don't care what kind of relationship you are talking about... romantic relationships, friendships, relating with your kids, parents or other relatives, coworkers... it doesn't matter... Whenever two or more people are thrust into a situation when they have to interact with each other, there can be great potential for blame.

Maybe they just don't do it right, whatever it is. Maybe they just don't treat you the way you want (even deserve) to be treated. Maybe they hurt you in some way. Maybe a lot of things.

If you hold a grudge, if you blame, if you hold enmity against someone for any reason you lose. There are numerous verses in the Dhammapada that speak to this. I'll highlight two. The first comes from the Twin Verses (all quotes come from The Still Point Dhammapada)...

"He abused me; he beat me; he
defeated me; he robbed me."
If we cling to such thoughts
we live in hate.

We can become addicted to pointing fingers at other people... pointing out their faults and wrongs. We can become addicted to the "moral high ground." It is not a good place to sit in your practice. Because no matter what you are going off about, you have to know that you are living in hate. You are not being compassionate or loving-kind.

It took me a long time to get to a neutral place with my daughter's father. I thought he was robbing her of something so important to young girls as they develop... a relationship with her father. I thought he was robbing me by shirking his responsibility and paying child support. I was angry about it for a very long time. The essence of this next verse allows me to look at this situation (and other relationships) in a different light:

Do not analyze the failings of others.
Instead look at your own failings.
Where have you been responsible?
Where have you been irresponsible?

[...from Chapter 4 Flowers, pg. 24]

Here is an exercise. Do this for a week. Every time you find yourself ready to "analyze the failings of others," make a tally in a notebook, journal, PDA, whatever you carry. Make a little note about what you are thinking or talking about. Let these tally marks be a reminder to just cut it out. At the end of the week, sum up all of your tallies. This is just a small window into how much you judge, how much you point fingers, how much you blame. Don't get all upset with yourself about it, just notice it. At the end of the week, there will be some distance between you and whatever you were about to think or say. Take a fresh look at the situation or person at hand. Ask yourself: Where have I been responsible? Where have I been irresponsible? And leave it there.

It's All in the Dhammapada

A couple of weeks ago, I started this study... I wanted to know what the great masters were teaching on the subject of love and relationships. I found some great stuff out there... great dharma talks, great articles, great discussions. Then I picked up the Dhammapada. Beyond listening to the weekly readings at the temple, I hadn't read it in a while. I have to tell you...

Everything you ever really needed to know about how to navigate the murky waters of relationship is in the Dhammapada. From the first line to the last. I'm going to attempt a weekly post on this. Be back later with the first one.

Relationship Dharma

I'm still continuing my study on Dharma for Relationships. Last weekend, I uncovered a couple of interesting posts, threads and articles:

On the Dharma Realm Buddhist Youth (DRBY) website, there is an interesting thread about love and relationships. Some questions are raised: 

Can there be unconditional love in a romantic relationship? Should I have expectations in a romantic relationship? Is sexual desire bad in a romantic relationship? Being single= Being lonely and bored?

 Some cogent points were made:

Honesty is the most fundamental quality to a meaningful relationship...if you are dishonest even once, you will change the nature of this relationship completely...from something totally genuine and true to manipulation.

A meaningful relationship can only come from two truely free people who are willing to give each other the freedom to choose to be with each other at every moment. They are not bound by desire, need, boredom, or self projections (expectations).

A meaningful relationship is very genuine and compassionate. You will always look out for the best interest of your partner instead of yourself.

Having standards does not mean having expectations. Abandon expectations.

It's an interesting conversation. Check it out...

There's also this great Dharma talk out there... Jason mentioned it in a comment to a previous entry. It was deliverd at a wedding presided over by Sensei James Ishmael Ford. Good stuff.

And finally, there's this UrbanDharma.org Newsletter from March 2004 on Love in Buddhism.

I don't have any commentary on these things today... Just thought I'd share.

Hate the Game

I stepped away from relationships, dating, sex, all of it... for a long time. I was tired of the same old same old... Tired of navigating the strange waters that are modern relationships... Tired of all the dishonesty and inauthenticity that's out there... Instead I dove into my practice. I stopped missing the sex so much. But I missed the affection. I missed the friendship of a lover. I missed all the little things you get used to when you have someone special in your life.

I learned these past few weeks as I've ventured back into the dating game that I've been holding on so tightly to the past. I ran into someone that I felt so incomplete about for so long... I had a "the one who got away" fantasy going and I thought there was an opening there for something great. As it turns out, it was all in my head. I was faced with the first line in the Still Point Dhammapada:

Our minds create everything.

Did you ever wake up one morning and realize you were living entirely in your head? Have you ever had a relationship that stopped as quickly as it started? None of this is unusual. Sometimes things just don't work out. Often you meet someone and learn that you are drastically incompatible. I think I'm learning that what's most important is who you are being in the process. Are you clinging to the idea of a relationship so hard that you don't see that what you long for does not exist with this person sitting in front of you? I've been there. I didn't really go there this time.

But I did accomplish some things...

1. I looked at all the ways I was clinging to the past and all the ideas that I had about this person and I let all those illusions go.
2. I took a risk and I opened my heart to a possibility... always reminding myself that a relationship is never really more than that in the beginning. Nothing is set in stone, fixed, cemented... it's all very malleable... likely to change.
3. I noticed it when I was craving... clinging... wanting the phone to ring... wanting a certain outcome. I realized I was caught in a loop and I let it just fall away. I accepted that this "is what it is..." and is not meant to go anywhere... and I went for closure.

There is just one place where I've been stuck. I'm annoyed when people tell me what they think I want to hear. You don't really have to say, "I want to see you tomorrow," if you don't really mean it. Personally, I would prefer to hear, "This is just not working out." But as it stands I've been dealing with a guy who would rather fade silently into the background rather than have that conversation. It took me a couple days of deep judgement before I could get over it. It really doesn't mean as much about this guy as it shows how fearful we can be of honest communication. Nevertheless, I can still look at him with some compassion. It's like that quote that pop culture has given us... Don't hate the playa, hate the game.

Daily Dharma

About a hundred years ago in Korea there was a young woman who was about to be married. In those days marriages were arranged through a go-between. It was the custom that a bride would not know or even see her prospective marriage partner until the day of the ceremony. Hearing that the arrangements had been completed, the woman became quite excited, also very anxious. After all, her marriage would be the most important deciding factor of the rest of her life, and she didn't know exactly what was going to happen. She started thinking: "What will my husband be like? Handsome or ugly? I'd like a handsome man. Will he be kind or will he be inconsiderate? Oh, I so want a kind husband." Then she was also thinking, "I wonder if he'll be stupid or smart? I really would like to have a smart and clever husband. I hate dull men." Then she started to think about her mother-in-law to be.

In Korea at that time the wife went to live with the husband's family. Since life for a woman was bound to family and home, the mother-in-law controlled the new wife's whole life. So she was just as worried about her mother-in-law as about her prospective husband. "What will this women be like? Will she be a tyrant? Will she be mean? Or, will she be kind and generous?" She thought about all this a lot, for months in advance -- thinking and thinking. Then, just the day before the ceremony she had to go to her sister's village for the final fitting of her wedding dress. Korea is quite mountainous; so she had to cross a low pass to get to the village. As she walked, she was thinking about her marriage and since it was close to the wedding day, her mind was reeling. Then, just as she came to the top of the pass and started down towards the village, a tiger jumped out in front of her...... "Grrrrrrrrrhh!!!" That's the end of the story as we know it.

To some, this story is sad because we have expectations. But this woman is not special because we always meet the tiger sooner or later. But to Zen students this story is interesting because one thing appeared very clear. We might say she got "tiger enlightenment." That means "wake up!" At any moment that can happen to us; it doesn't take a tiger. It's very simple.

[...from the Transmission Speech of Zen Master Dae Kwang, published Fall 1996 in Primary Point. a publication of the Kwan Um School of Zen]

The Buddhist Kama Sutras

I'm really interested in Buddhist teachings on love, marriage, relationships and sex. Being in relationship has been an area of life that I've ignored for almost a year now. Now that the possibility of relationship is waking up in my world, I'm thinking about how to apply mindfulness to the journey... how to approach relationships with a healthy balance of wisdom and fun.

I'm reading Everything Yearned For: Manhae's Poems of Love and Longing. What's most interesting to me about this volume is that it was written by a Buddhist Monk. The lines communicate passion and desire... topics one would think are somewhat taboo for a man in his station. Well, no one knows if Manhae became a monk before or after writing these poems, but the poems do have their teaching moments. Like this one, which gives the impression of a man trying to reconcile the Dharma with the love of his life:

Master's Sermon

I heard the Master's sermon:
"Don't be bound to the chains of love and suffer.
Cut the ties and your mind will find joy."

That Master is quite the fool.
To be bound with ties of love is painful, but to cut them
   is more painful than death.
In the tight bind of love's ties lies its unbinding.
Thus great liberation lies in bondage.
My love, I feared that the ties that bind me to you might be weak.
   so I've doubled the strands of my love.

Interesting, isn't it? The line that sticks out for me is this: Thus great liberation lies in bondage. It reminds me of that conversation in the beginning of Plato's Republic. It somewhat contradicts one of the responses... Basically, you have Socrates questioning a group of men about what they think constitutes the good life.  Does it lie in youth with sex, love and merry-making? Sophocles says:

I am only glad to be free of that;
It is like escaping from bondage
to a raging madman

...a sentiment so different from Manhae's poem.

Maybe they aren't really talking about the same thing. I think Sophocles is speaking more on sex than love. Manhae may be speaking more on the emotional, eternal, perhaps even spiritual bonds that love engenders. Who really knows... I think the questions I walk away from after thinking a bit on these things go something like this...

Yes, as Buddhists we are taught to cut out craving. But does that mean we are not allowed to experience desire? Does that wipe the possiblity of passion and physical enjoyment out of the mind or experience of the serious practitioner? Is it better to be a monk? To dedicate oneself wholly to practice outside all of the usual ties and bonds, or can we become enlightened beings that have husbands, boyfriends, or lovers?

This will be the focus of my study for a while... I'll be reading, writing, and Google-searching for sutras, insights, articles, dharma talks, books... anything that speaks to these topics. If you come across something interesting that you want to share, please let me know...

Oceans Apart

Recent conversations with my brother remind me of a relationship I was in for a long time and just couldn't seem to end (even when it was obvious that I should). I wrote this poem about it maybe two years into the journey:

Oceans Apart

She could not love him
though she tried
meeting him like
sand to tide
for though he came
he did retreat
leaving her wet
and incomplete

© 2001

My brother has been dating someone for about two years. He talks about how unhappy he is at least once a month, and I thought he had ended things recently when he broke off their engagement and moved out. Now he's trying to fix the relationship... patch things up... settle.

When your self-esteem is low, when you feel that life has kicked you around, when you're not where you want to be... you are not in the right space to start looking for a lifetime mate. I learned this lesson the hard way. I hope he doesn't fall as hard as I did.

Daily Dharma

One of the surprise gifts of loneliness is the gift of time. Time gives us a chance to deepen our spiritual work. We actually have a half hour to pray or meditate or read scriptures. In the ensuing calmness, we can ask ourselves what needs doing so we won't feel lonely. What can we do that isn't dependent on a partner agreeing with our decision? We can volunteer, make new friends, write a poem or song. When we combine clarity about our values with spiritual work, it is difficult to be lonely. Once the women in Buddha's time began to devote themselves to spiritual work, they didn't speak of loneliness again. There was no room for it.

In days filled with chores related to Still Point, a Zen Buddhist Temple located in the heart of Detroit, I can't imagine being lonely. Instead, I crave quiet time where I can simply sit in meditation, feeling its deep grounding and sweet energy. While I'm pleased to have company when I do, I'm as happy being alone. I expect that you'll find the same truth. The more you nurture who you really are, the less you'll need other people. Instead, you'll enjoy and cherish them when they are with you and enjoy the quiet of aloneness when they are not.

...from Chapter Eight The Gift of Bone-Deep Loneliness in Love Dharma: Relationship Wisdom from Enlightened Buddhist Women by P'arang Geri Larkin

Happy New Year

It is January 1^st, the dawn of a new year, and I have much to be grateful for. After eight years of struggle and sacrifice, I feel that I've finally made it. My daughter and I moved into our own home this week... the first time we've been on our own since she was born. I can't believe it took so long for me to get here. I sit in my apartment, drinking tea, practicing yoga, watching television, reading a book, and I feel a deep sense of peace. I feel like I finally have space for my life—space to do my practice, space to be me.

I used to really lament about being alone at this time of year... It was important to me to be with someone when the clock strikes twelve on New Year's Day. It was important to have someone to hold on to, someone to make out with, someone to love. This year I'm alone but I'm not lonely. I have my daughter. I'm learning what it means to be truly present for her. It makes a difference.

I think about the relationships that have passed through my life over these last eight years and I have no regrets. I don't think about going backwards anymore. I don't want to be in a relationship bad enough to settle anymore. I am hopeful... I hope for a deep love, a deep connection with someone. I hope to get married someday... to share my life with someone... but I am no longer in a hurry. The restlessness of my twenties has passed.

I think I am only beginning ot understand what it means to love. I spent my early twenties trying to find love through passion. Like the fire under a pot of boiling water, I would burn only to be doused and extinguished by the water I was boiling. I would do the same thing over and over again. Writing that makes me think of a Rickie Byars song—My Connection with God. There is this spoken prelude before the song begins:

Well... there have been times in our lives when we didn't know who we were or what we really represented. We may have felt so desperate and so alone that we always reached out to somebody to make ourselves feel happy. We did this over and over and over again, but it always turned out to be the same—no peace, and no satisfaction. We ended up with a sense of fill-fullment but never with that deep sense of fullfillment... until one day we turned within to the kingdom of God and we heard the still small voice saying "I am your somebody." And then from that moment on we were able to say "I used to think that I needed somebody but all that I needed was my connection with God."

I used to volunteer for Iyanla Vanzant. This was right after the first publishing of Acts of Faith when I was a student at Howard University. She would play this song as she came to the podium to raise the energy level before she started her lecture. I used to bounce to it along with everyone else, but I can't say that I fully connected to the message. I fully connected to the "fill-fullment" part... to the "reaching out to somebody to make myself feel happy" part... but never quite the "all that I needed was my connection with God (feel free to substitute Buddha/Allah/Spirit/whatever works for you)" part. It's different now.

This past year has meant so much... finding Still Point, completing the Precepts Ceremony, beginning Intensive Practice, really settling into my practice... I feel lighter than I've felt in years. I'm learning what it means to forgive and how to love others without being dangerous to myself. I am seeing how pervasive that scarcity mentality has been in my life. (Scarcity mentality is one of those New Age terms... it basically refers to the thoughts and reactions of one who is of the mindset that there is never enough... in Buddhism, it is akin to the concept of the Hungry Ghost) I used to think that love meant giving something up... and I always gave too much regardless of the return on investment... "until today," as Iyanla would say.

The First Dharma Seal

This week has been a lesson in impermanence. On Wednesday, my father had surgery. For the last ten years, he has survived kidney failure, a kidney transplant, diabetes, respiratory problems, and numerous side effects from the myriad medications he must take daily to sustain his life.

We were estranged when he had the transplant almost ten years ago. I was living in Washington, D.C. on hiatus from college trying to heal. The previous year, I was sexually assaulted on my way back to my dorm. It was mid-afternoon... broad daylight. Carrying my purse and my Safeway grocery bags, I allowed myself to be lured from the main street by a stranger who pretended to be a friend. I wasn't badly injured physically, but the mental and emotional wounds would take longer to wrestle and subdue. I suppose I was naieve. I extended the feeling of community I experienced being at a historically Black university to the surrounding community which did not always share my sentiment. Everyone was not my brother (or at least didn't act like my brother)... not that day.

I went to work full time, and I met someone... the man who would become my daughter's father. My father was none to happy that I decided to live with my boyfriend. He said some hurtful things, called me a few names I won't repeat, and we didn't speak for months. On the eve of his surgery, I still had nothing to say. I was too proud and too hurt. Being so far away, I don't think I truly internalized the serious nature of his illness or the risk involved in the surgery. I had been away from home for several years, and I'm sure that I still remembered my father as invincible as he was when I was a child. I certainly didn't think he was going to die. He could've. He didn't.

After my daughter was born, we moved back to Michigan so I could finish college. I lived with my parents. I live with them still. For nearly eight years I have watched my father's health decline. I have watched the man who once towered over me shrink slowly before my eyes. I have forgiven him and myself for everything that strained our relationship in the past and have made a conscious effort to rebuild our relationship. It has not always been easy, but it has been worth it. When I learned about a month ago that he would have to go back into the hospital for surgery, I was scared.

I learned something new about his transplant surgery. When an uncle donated the kidney that extended my father's life, the doctors installed it without removing the kidney that failed. I don't know why they did it that way, perhaps it is standard practice... but when I heard the word transplant, I thought something was going in and something was going out. It didn't work that way. The doctors apparently knew back then that there was a spot on my father's kidney films. They didn't say anything about it to anyone. Over the years, the spot has grown. They don't know what it is and don't want to biopsy it, so they decided to remove the failed kidney so that the spot (if cancerous) would not further threaten my father's well-being.

The surgery was successful. He lies in his hospital bed recovering. I am so grateful. Every time the phone rang last week I thought it was my mother calling to tell me that my father had died.

We cannot find anything that is permanent. Flowers decompose, but knowing this does not prevent us from loving flowers. In fact, we are able to love them more because we know how to treasure them while they are still alive. If we learn to look at a flower in a way that impermanence is revealed to us, when it dies, we will not suffer. Impermanence is not an idea. It is a practice to help us touch reality. [ ...from The Heart of the Buddha's Teaching by Thich Naht Hanh, page 131]

I kissed my father for the first time in I don't know how many years before I left his hotel room Wednesday evening. I feel awkward about expressing affection towards both of my parents. We don't typically hug or touch each other. Those expressions were a gift of youth that ended when I started wearing a training bra. Now, my daughter gets everyone's affection. As we prepared to leave, my father asked her for a hug. She dutifully walked to the side of his bed, hugged him and kissed him goodnight. "And what about your mom," he said. My heart quickly flipped. I wasn't expecting that.

I felt such a softness for him in that moment, such a quiet, protective love, that I kissed his forehead effortlessly. Without impermanence practice, without a situation that forced me to be grateful for every next day with my father, without the fear of losing him looming over me every day for a month forcing me to wake me up and appreciate him now and now and now, it would not have been that easy.

Working with Anger

I am a single mother. I decided that I would do whatever it takes to raise my daughter in the best environment I could provide. My relationship with her father was volatile when she was born, and didn't improve much during that first year though we both did the best we could. We broke up.

We were already living in separate parts of the country--he on the east coast, me in the midwest. I expected that we would have the typical post-breakup cooling off period, then I expected we would learn to be parents if not friends. That was six years ago.

I was angered by the fact that he wasn't contributing to my daughter then, and I continued to be angry until I found a better way. No child support. No personal contact whatsoever... no calls, no birthday cards, no letters. Most of the time, over the years, I have had no way to even contact him. As my little girl gets older, she feels the void. She wants a father, and I want that for her. You would think I would be happy now that I've finally heard from him and he seems to want to be a father. No. I have been madder than ever.

I have talked things through with my friends these past few months. They talk about how well adjusted my child is, and encourage me to believe that she will not be harmed by the absence of her father. I am not convinced. They sit in restaurants with me and nod compassionately as I vent my frustrations... as I list my upsets. They are good friends, so they co-sign my anger, my disappointment, my pain. For as long as I need it, I have my own personal amen corner.

Lately, I have asked myself... is this what I really need? To be validated in my anger? What good does it do?

Well, depends on who you ask. If you ask my ego-mind, it makes all the difference. There is nothing quite like righteous anger to get the ego fired up. Righteous anger is the most dangerous for me, the most long-lived because it feels so good. There is no better fuel than believing you are standing on the moral high ground. It becomes like throwing kindling on a fire... the anger never dies.

The first shift away from anger came from taking refuge in the Dharma. I started looking for teachings... for enlightenment. I read the Five Mindfulness Trainings by Thich Naht Hanh. I read from the Still Point Dhammapada. I read from the Mahayana sutras. I focused in on The Sutra of the Assembled Treasures. One short passage stuck with me and remains with me still. It describes four signs that indicate a Bodhisattva's right mentality:

(1) The Bodhisattva does not hide his transgressions, but exposes them to others so that his mind is free from covers and bonds.

(2) He never speaks false words even if he loses his own body, life, country or kingdom.

(3) When he encounters misfortunes, being scolded, beaten, slandered, bound, or otherwise injured, he blames himself only; resigning himself to karmic retribution, he does not hate others.

(4) He maintains his faith firmly; when he hears the Buddha-Dharma which is profound and difficult to believe, his pure mind can accept and uphold it entirely. [A Treasury of Mahayana Sutras, page 389]

Karma. Karma is one of those touchy subjects in Buddhism. Who wants to think about all of the negative karma they have created over thousands of lifetimes? Too depressing. Who could get out of bed? No, when I'm in the middle of righteous anger, I like to think about other people's karma. It helps to remind myself that they will ultimately get theirs. I've been told by some that I should go after this guy. "Why should he get off without paying child support?", they ask. I know that he has never really gotten off. He can't. He won't.

When I'm having one of my pity parties (which don't happen often, but let's face it... they do happen) I feel robbed. I focus on every negative twist I can put on this situation (that is what pity parties are for, right?). I think about what I sacrifice, what I give up, what would be better if I had chosen a different man to have a child with, yada, yada, yawn. Pity parties get boring and ridiculous after awhile. I woke up one morning and realized (with the help of my teacher) that I was in the midst of a pity party. She is far too gracious to state it quite that way, but that is one thing I took from her counsel. The general gist of her message? My daughter is great. She will grow up to be a wonderful woman. She seems no worse for the wear. "Maybe just accept what is and move out from there, yes?"

And that was it, where the second shift occurred. When I took refuge in the Sangha and called on my teacher I felt so much lighter. Clear. Gratitude will take me much farther than anger ever will. It will also be a great big lesson for my daughter on how to live big, above the battleground. If I didn't have the refuges, I would probably be talking to a well trained assassin (or at least a good lawyer). Now I can breathe, and calmly consider what is in my little one's best interests, and have space to sit and chant and prostrate and get on with my practice. Anger is no longer in the way. At least, not today.