Settling Debts

Twelve years ago I quit my job, packed my belongings and moved back home to complete my education. I had a new baby and no savings... just a final paycheck from a clerical job that didn't buy many diapers. My parents supported me, and within a few months I landed a full-time job. Soon afterwards I started taking night classes. I'd gotten in trouble with American Express during my first college career, so at the time the only credit card I could get extended a very lean $250.00 line of credit. The limit was small enough to force me to use it responsibly. A year later, I had two cards. A few years later I had three, then four. I paid my bills on time, but I racked up debts... the majority of them the year I fled the nest for the second time. I'd only lived on my own twice before for brief periods on campus when I was spared the inconvenience of randomly assigned roomates. At other times, my living quarters were populated with friends. Finally, I found myself on my own... independent... or so I thought.

I finished school and I landed a decent job. I had enough money coming in to cover basic living expenses and enough left over for a few extras. I had habits that I considered frugal, but I racked up an unreasonable amount of credit card debt to buy furniture and household "necessities" and I lived paycheck to paycheck. In the beginning, it seemed okay. In previous years I thought I would never be on my own again, and just getting to that point was enough. I could breathe again. But as the months and years went by and I didn't seem to be able to chip away at my debt in any way that seemed significant, I decided it was time to change.

Over the past two years I've been engaged in a serious debt reduction program. I grew tired of paying rent and bills every month still feeling I wasn't getting anywhere. I'd been working full-time for a few years and I still had no significant savings... surely not enough put away to sustain the loss of my job for any extended period. Though my daughter was young at the time, college expenses were on my mind. I started to think seriously about the possibility of financial freedom. I started to make steps to turn the possibility into reality, and I'm finally starting to see the beginning of the end of my co-dependent, addictive relationship with credit cards and the beginning of a new focus on saving and living with less.

I'm not patting myself on the back. Not yet.

Don't get me wrong, I'm excited about the fact that I just paid off my car and I'm excited that at the end of the month I will have no credit card debt. But something else happened as I've watched myself take the necessary steps to get to this point... I watched my patterns. I watched how much my spending was driven by feelings of discomfort, inadequacy, or anxiety. I noticed how I tend to try to spend my way out of misery.

The ironic thing is that I'd had such deep judgements about the stereotypical female shopaholic who racks up debt for clothes, shoes, makeup, and other girlie things. I tried to lie to myself and convince myself that since the things I was consuming were more "enlightened" or geeky (books, yoga DVDs, dharma materials, technology, educational materials, things like that) I was somehow better than those girls. I came to realize that the problem (if there is a problem) is in how we consume, not in what we consume. I've learned to stop digging a deep hole, but the pattern hasn't left me completely. There is still more work to do.

I've thought a lot about myself and my responsibility in the global economic crisis that we can't seem to escape hearing about or fretting over on a daily basis. While I didn't go out and try to buy a house with my finances as they were, I didn't have the most responsible habits... and like those who lived during the roaring twenties, I didn't imagine that the economic prosperity that could be realized in this country would ever come to a screeching halt. Not again. I thought I had plenty of time to resolve my financial woes because I depended on the fact that the economy would just keep chugging along as it had been. Hadn't we learned from history? Weren't there smarter people than me out there making sure we wouldn't find ourselves in a position where we'd be destined to repeat it?

Maybe the solution to this crisis (and any crisis) lies with the fact that we, all of us in this human realm, have unskillful habits that we need to break. Maybe those people out there who work in the financial sector are smarter than I am about finance... but if they are plagued by the same unskillful habits that I am, their knowledge couldn't possibly make a damned bit of difference. I'm not an openly emotional person, but I am an emotional person. And time and time again I let my emotional response drive me. I find that I can be derailed or completely stopped (or driven and completely distracted) by nothing more than a feeling. And the custodians of the financial world, they are just like me. That is an unsettling, a sobering, a frightening thought.

I used to be embarrassed by my greed, by the ceaseless itch of craving that I feel when I'm driven to consume something, anything. In light of current circumstances, both personally and globally, I realize that I don't have time to be embarrassed, and I can tie this to my attitude towards my practice... an attitude that is shifting. When I say "I don't have time," I don't mean it's a good idea to ignore the feeling, stuff it down and pretend to be altruistic and giving so as not to see the greed that arises in me so I don't have to feel all uncomfortable about it. What I mean, is that I don't have time to waste an opportunity to use whatever feeling arises to conquer the five hindrances or to break the unskillful habit patterns that bind me.

More than anything, we all need to wake up and own how our personal habits and conditioned responses get us into trouble... and how they impact what I like to call the big four—self, money, relationships and the wider world. And we need to figure out for ourselves how to stop wallowing, stop avoiding, and stop anesthetizing long enough to find within ourselves just enough courage to look at our habits and just enough willingness to explore ways to drop those that are unskillful.

I'm starting to see this financial crisis in a different light. It's not (just) about money. It's about who we are as human beings at the core. And while we look to President Obama and the new administration for a quick and easy fix, some suggest there is a spiritual solution to the problem—a solution that lies squarely in our own laps.

Lifting the Mists of Melancholy

My life has been heavy. Walking through cancer and chemotherapy with my mother and witnessing my father's health decline until his recent death has been heavy. My job has been heavy. Trying to be there for my mother as she passes through the most crippling grief and loss she has ever experienced in her life... watching her wear her heart on her sleeve and being unable to stop the tears from coming when they come has been heavy. I've been walking around carrying that heaviness. I've been carrying it in my back and shoulders. More than that, I've been carrying it in my heart.

Something really mundane happened Friday afternoon at work that woke me up to the fact that I need to let the mists of melancholy I've been carrying around just lift. I passed one of the managers in my chain of command in the hallway and she asked how things were going. My response was "okay," but it was a loaded "okay..." loaded with stress and overwhelm and "okay but not really okay if you know what I mean." I've been in the middle of a huge project at work and things haven't gone as smoothly as I would've liked and I don't have a big team of people helping me to work through the issues and it weighs on me sometimes. So my okay was intended to say a lot... all of that and more. My manager... she just kinda looked at me and said "It's Friday... ". She said something else but I'm not really remembering. The "It's Friday" part was really all I needed to hear.

I thought to myself, "Damn, chalip... lighten up."

I'm in need of my practice right now. I've been limping through my life. I've been on a rocky boat, just holding on. I need very much to lighten up. I need very much to sit and really experience and feel everything I've been holding on to so as to let it go. I need to watch the mists of melancholy lift, and I need to smile. Really smile.

I feel rested for the first time in a long time. I've been working crazy overtime... the kind of overtime where you come home mentally tired... exhausted... and fall into bed, into a coma really... then get up the next morning feeling exhausted still to do it all again.

My daily practice... the active parts of my daily practice... are the ways I take care of myself. And I haven't taken care of myself in a long time. Everything has been in a holding pattern, waiting for that moment when I could exhale and focus on myself. I've been running around "like a chicken..." a friend would say. I look at the way I've managed this time in my life and it is a big red flag that says something to me. It says, "Hey, chalip... you've learned a few things but you still could use some work in the living a balanced life department."

So today is a leisurely day. Today is a day with no rushing around... This morning I woke up and made pancakes. I'm listening to some really good jazz music as I write this. When I'm done with this post, I'll listen to Zencast or some other dharma on disc, then I'll sit for the first time in I don't know how long. I'll do my yoga, I'll load the washing machine, and I'll cook dinner at a leisurely pace. I'll do some chores. I'll vacuum and dust. And I'll imagine the vacuum cleaner sucking in all of this heaviness... all of this melancholy.

Later tonight, I'll watch or listen to something or someone that really makes me laugh. I don't know who it will be... Chris Rock, Katt Williams or Dave Chappelle should do the trick... or maybe I'll watch disc 2 of The Boondocks season one... I've been saving it for a rainy day.

When I come back to this space, when I blog again, my intention is to be lighter.

A Solitary Work

It is so easy to judge. Our eyes are always facing outward, and our thoughts are often chasing that line of sight. We see people that we know or don't know and we size them up. We see people that we like or don't like and we praise or blame.

I've been concerned about someone for a long time. This person and I, we share a mutual friend. I find myself often discussing my concerns with the mutual friend. These concerns have become a frequent topic of conversation. But what do these talks accomplish?

Perhaps they are an occasion to release frustrations, but I've asked myself lately... How much venting does one need? How long can you continue to discuss something or someone until you have utterly exhausted the topic. At what point has enough been said? When do you know that you've crossed the line from constructive conversation to judgmental bashing?

Through this situation, I'm starting to see that the more time I waste dissecting someone else's issues, the less time I spend on my own. We often get pleasure from gossip--from talking about people--because in pointing out their flaws we think we somehow mask our own. We get into the game of making comparisons. We are happy when we believe we come out ahead.

How do we break out of a cycle that is so common in our society? How to we learn to stop judging and start practicing right speech?

Just now while writing this, I remembered a little mantra that I learned a long time ago (the source has been forgotten). But I looked up the little phrase online and found that it has been attributed to Shirdi Sai Baba, an Indian saint:

Before you speak, ask yourself: Is it kind, is it necessary, is it true, does it improve on the silence?

That last phrase I wasn't even aware of... I had heard it a bit differently--Is it true, Is it kind, Is it necessary--but the final phrase adds a little something. Silence can be a beautiful thing. If my words aren't so true, kind, and necessary that they are better than silence, perhaps they are best kept to myself.

Does a Bodhisattva Have Legitimate Complaints?

I find myself struggling with a situation. I have all these issues going on at work and all of these strong feelings around what's going on. I've been in one tough situation after another. I haven't complained. I've buckled down and focused on the work. Things were improving, then all of a sudden things fell apart. There are reasons why things fell apart, and I know they didn't have anything to do with me.

But here's the dilemma. I find myself just stewing lately... marinating in resentment and bad feelings. I find myself standing in judgment of the people I feel are responsible. I blame the current situation on their decision making (or lack thereof). I blame the current situation on their unwillingness to act on behalf of the team... sacrificing the people they work with for the people they work for. In business, there is often this philosophy that the customer is always right. And while I believe that when you're in business you must satisfy your customer, that is not the only critical factor. If during the course of satisfying the customer you alienate and upset the employees, they leave and there is no one left to do the work. Then the customer is unsatisfied anyway.

Without delving into specifics, issues have been building up for a a while now. I bring it home with me. Thoughts about these issues are with me when I fall asleep... and they are with me when I wake up in the morning. They are with me when I sit on the cushion. They are with me when I'm cooking dinner. Some distractions provide temporary relief... watching a movie, reading a book, playing with my daughter. Some things I surrender to... I'm fully there while doing them. But the distraction comes to an end and I am left with my thoughts again. The more I think, the worse I feel.

"But, my complaints are legitimate," says an inner voice.

"Perhaps, but do they improve the situation," asks another.

A few days ago, I picked up a book and started skimming. It is called The Thirty-Seven Practices of Bodhisattvas. I couldn't even create the mental space to read the commentary, so I flipped through and read the thirty seven verses. Doing this created some space for some new thoughts to enter my mind. Thoughts about work have been punctuated with thoughts about the bodhisattva ideal.

I've read several books about this ideal. To me, they say the following:

• To the bodhisattva, everyone is blameless but himself. (Eat all blame).
• To the bodhisattva, suffering for the sake of others is a noble act. (Work for the benefit of others, even if you suffer in the process).

Then, my ego objects. Well, is it the ego? I don't know. But some part of me screams, "but if only s/he had done this or hadn't done that this wouldn't have happened." Some part of me screams, "this is not my fault, and it is crazy to continue to work in an environment where these things continue. It's almost masochistic. I am SO ready to quit my job."

So my question is this. If you are a dharma practitioner... If you take refuge in Buddha, Dharma and Sangha... If you are an aspiring bodhisattva... Do you ever have legitimate complaints? Are you ever justified in stepping outside the typical actions of a bodhisattva (eating all blame, working to benefit others even when it is difficult and comes at great personal cost)?

There is a voice inside me that is saying, "No on both counts."

There is another voice inside me that wants to yell at that voice.

Being Still

I have a friend who is constantly on the move. Saying hello and goodbye to her is accomplished in a cloud of activity while she spins in and out of a room, always heading for the next thing. We have nicknamed her Taz because she reminds us of that character from Loony Tunes... relentless perpetual motion.

I have another friend who is constantly looking for something (or someone) to do. I've known several people like this and have seen that the one activity that repulses them the most is sitting still, alone with their thoughts and emotions, even if it is just for five lousy minutes.

I don't stand in judgement. I've found it difficult to be still... to be with myself this past year.

"You have had a lot going on," a friend says.

But if this past year has taught me nothing, it has taught me that it is most important to carve out the time when we have the most going on. Perhaps that is why we feel overwhelmed, like we have nothing else to give... because we aren't giving back to ourselves... not even a little bit.

I ordered some summer reading materials for my daughter a couple of weeks ago. I think every elementary school student should read Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing. I also ordered a couple of new titles from her favorite author (she would read Dear Dumb Diary and Franny K. Stein exclusively if I didn't insist on some variety) and a new book from a new young adult fiction writer called Leepike Ridge. It provided an occasion to also get a couple of new reads for myself. One of the books I selected was a tiny green book by Ezra Bayda called Saying Yes to Life (Even the Hard Parts).

I'd discovered Bayda a few years ago while surfing online. I don't even remember what I was looking for at the time or how I stumbled upon his writings, but the teachings he offers through this site were very meaningful for me. They remain so to this day.

I started flipping through it this afternoon at work while waiting for my computer to shut down for the day. I expected another book of essays, but was pleasantly surprised to find that this book is just a collection of verses on numerous topics relevant to us all. I like this, because we don't really need an essay most of the time. One cogent point can snap us back to reality if we just let it.

An example:

Notice how often thinking and talking are detours from the painful work of being present to life. [pg. 83]

And another:

Believing you're a "good meditator" doesn't foster good meditation; it only bolsters another deluded self-image. [pg. 76]

I haven't been blogging much over the past year, mostly because I haven't engaged in much formal practice in the traditional sense. I haven't been sitting or prostrating or even studying much. I didn't have much to talk about... consumed by the whirlwind that was my daily life. Over this time, as my practice lagged, I thought myself a "bad buddhist," a "bad practitioner." Sometimes I felt that I dropped my practice completely and for a while I judged myself severely. Perhaps in reading this small passage I could stop and remind myself that thinking oneself a bad buddist is just as deluded as praising yourself for being an excellent meditator. On this path, there must be room for lapses, for outright mistakes. There is too much work to do to get caught up by somthing as insignificant as a tallied score.

In abandoning this score-keeping mind around my practice I've started to practice a little again. I'm not as fanatical with myself as I was previously about it... I don't make it mean anything if a day goes by and I don't DO something for the dharma. It feels like a fresh start... a new beginning.

Just to Clarify...

In a recent entry, I talked about stress and the world today. I quoted Mary Pipher, and I tried to make two points:

1. In certain ways, we can all see that the world is a stressful place to be lately... perhaps we're all experiencing or perceiving more stress than we ever have before
2. It's really not relative... there's nothing that special about today's stress

I feel the need to clarify that second point a bit. (Remind me not to blog when I'm really tired).

I think the things that are going on in the world today just lift the veil from our eyes... that veil that says we can relax... that we're comfortable... that our mutual funds are maturing at an expected rate of return... that the world is a safe place to be... that we don't have to worry about money. Perhaps historians will look back on these days and talk about the after-effects of 9/11 being somewhat similar to the after-effects of the stock market crash. Those events have one thing in common. They forced Americans to collectively question the notion of security.

What I'm trying to say (while perhaps blundering the attempt) is that we live in this dreamland called permanence. We seem to believe that things will stay. We convince ourselves of this over and over again. Got a job? It will stay. Saved some money? It will stay. Got a house? It will stay.

With study and practice, we start to gain insight into the impermanence that surrounds us but rarely do we collectively... as a community, state or nation... really feel the veil lifted so swiftly.

I think the stress Mary talked about is about the lifting of this veil. We don't like impermanence. Most of the time we resist it. The stress comes because we want something we can depend on... something that stays... and we're experiencing the fact that nothing really does. I can't buy a loaf of bread or a candy bar for the same price my father paid when he was a kid, and I can't buy a gallon of gasoline for the same price I paid two years ago. And I don't like it.

The key (which I'll talk about a bit in my next entry) is acceptance. As we learn to accept, the stress dissipates, becomes manageable, then disappears.

Everybody Just Calm Down

I listen to MItch Albom a lot when I'm riding home from work. I think it was one day last week when Mary Pipher was on talking about her lastest book, Writing to Change the World. It's on my wishlist with about a million other books. I'll get to it some time. Mary also wrote Reviving Ophelia, a book that I need to revisit soon. My daughter seems to grow in leaps and bounds despite my attempts to make her slow down just a little. Despite my protests, she is entering adolesence with swiftness and while it both frightens me and pleases me to see her grow up in this age, that's a conversation I'll save for another day.

While discussing her new book, Mary talked about stress:

...The world is more stressful now. In fact, the world right now for Americans is as stressful as it's ever been. When I make speeches now I say I've never in my 30 years of being a therapist seen Americans more stressed. Then I ask if anyone disagrees with me and no hands go up.

My hand certainly wouldn't go up. I've been through some extremely stressful events in my life... some traumatic experiences (for real). But despite all of those past events which I would think would've taken more out of me, I seem to have been more stressed these last six months than I've been in my entire life. I can't figure it out. People drone on about all the reasons we all have to be stressed, and they're probably right... the state of the economy, the dwindling job market, prices at the pump, uncertainty about the future... especially living here in Metro Detroit and working in the automotive sector. Everyone's scared they're going to lose their job. Everyone's working harder. Everyone's nerves are frayed. And it spills over from work life to home life and can make for a big mess.

I'm sure there's a study in a journal somewhere that talks about the causal relationship between stress and depression. I know I've had my bouts lately, and I look around and see depressed people all around me. At least two people I've talked to in the past two weeks have openly used the word in conversation... that word we don't even want to admit we know... because it hangs there in the air around us like this thick, black smoke that overcomes us and chokes us and despite our desire to breathe we can't find clean air anywhere.

A few weeks ago, I blew the dust off of Cheri's book. No sexy title... it's called The Depression Book and it talks about how to look deeply into depression and use it as a vehicle for practice. I find that I don't really read this book the way I read her others. I can pick up a Cheri Huber book and read it from cover to cover in a single sitting, but not this one. I pick this one up when I need to read it... when I KNOW I'm depressed. I read a few pages and I put it down because she's stepping on all my toes. I'm putting myself to bed in a few. I'm tired tonight. But I'm going to commit to some serious study and reflection this weekend. I'm going to read this book. I know that I need to, and I know I'm not the only one.

If you've been feeling it lately too and just sitting in it... if you feel your blood pressure on the rise... if you notice your adrenaline spiking... if you are anesthetizing yourself with too much food, too much television, too much escapist activity I want to say it's time to take a breath now. It's time to return to center, chill out and just calm down. Look at the frenzy you've worked yourself into. Just look at it and own it. Uncertainty is all around us forever. There's nothing really all that special about today, this month, this year. Stressors are real and they are everywhere but "being stressed" is a decision. Let's all of us just stop making that decision.

Starting Over

Have you ever disliked the way you've handled a situation? Have you ever looked back on moments, weeks, months, even years and asked yourself "Why, oh why didn't I do that differently?"

I've been reading a lot lately... nothing about Zen or Buddhism of late... I've been reading fiction. One book after another. I read several by Octavia Butler in a row... I was able to get my hands on a copy of Survivor, so I read that first then a few other favorites. I've started reading Dostoyevsky's The Brothers Karamazov, and though I plan to return to it soon, I put it down to read a couple Star Trek Voyager books (don't laugh, poke fun or roll your eyes... in case you didn't know, Star Trek is cool).

I've been reading because I've started to attempt creative writing again. I read not just to enjoy a story, but to deconstruct it... to see how different writers move from point A to point B... to get a feel for plotting, setting, characterization and the like. I've also been reading because I've needed a mindless escape from the day-to-day. I haven't been happy with myself... with how I've been handling one of the latest life challenges. The details don't matter, but maybe some part of you can relate to my strategies for dealing with those details. Dostoyevsky understands. He summarized my approach in a single sentence:

What seemed to gratify him and flatter his self-love most was to play the ridiculous part of the injured husband, and to parade his woes with embellishments.

...from The Brothers Karamazov, an online version

I met with an old friend recently. The two of us along with a group of people we worked with on an HIV/AIDS prevention program went through an experience a few years back called Landmark Education. We met in a coffee house to catch up. She told me what was up for her and I told her about my dilemma. Her response?

You've become the object in someone else's sentence instead of being the subject of your own.

She was right.

I don't like myself much when I shift into the victim mentality but it happens from time to time. It's a mindset that the ego just loves. Not because you start to feel better while encased in this mentatlity... you don't. What happens is that you have something external on which to place all blame. So while you still feel terrible, at least you can wax poetic about whose fault it is because it certainly isn't your own.

I don't like that I come here and talk about the same struggles over and over again. Somehow I judge myself for my repeated patterns. I feel weak. I think I'm supposed to master each lesson in one take and I'm frustrated with myself when I find myself lapsing into the same old routines. Buddhist practice is about abandoning unprofitable states and cultivating profitable states. If I was a "real" Buddhist, a "real" practitioner, wouldn't I have gained some mastery by now?

Not lately. Because the only things I've taken refuge in of late are mini Dove bars and lemon-poppyseed scones. At least for these past few months, I've let stress consume me and I've dealt with it in habitual, unprofitable ways.

I'm having this inner dialog about Zen and discipline. Can my practice periods help me to gain control of the areas of my  life where I feel out of control? And I wonder... Maybe seeing practice as a vehicle that will make me different than I am... that will make me who I want to be in certain respects is the wrong approach. Maybe practice only results in insight, then we still have to get up every morning and actively decide what to do with that insight. Maybe this practice will never be that magic wand I want it to be.

But I know that not practicing doesn't work for me.

I started this blog to document my Intenstive Practice journey. You can see what a bumpy ride it has been. But here I am, beginning again. Starting now.

Self-Building, "Issues" and Resistance to Practice

Last weekend a couple of sorors stopped by for girls night in. It was supposed to be our weekly writer's club meeting, but instead we got sucked in to a few specials that were running on VH1. The first was And You Don't Stop: 30 Years of Hip-Hop--a documentary that I had seen before. Afterwards, we watched DMC: My Adoption Journey.

It was personally moving to me, watching Darryl McDaniels' story unfold because I was adopted. I can't begin to tell you how much that verb defined me from childhood through adolescence and into adulthood. Unlike Darryl, I always knew I was adopted. With that knowing came this constant wondering about where I fit, a sense of alienness inside my family, a perpetual identity crisis. I used to think that there would always be some missing piece in my life unless I pieced together my own adoption journey and understood where I came from, what my birth parents were like, why my birth mother gave me up.

A few months before my daughter was born back in 1996, my parents gave me my adoption papers. Although no identifying information was provided, there were brief biographical sketches of both of my parents. I remember sitting alone in the house I shared with her father. I read it, and I wept. And I felt such a sense of release. Somehow that small picture... that small window into my birth parents' interests, talents and families allowed me to feel some sense of closure.

Looking back on it now, it amazes me... the intricacy we can infuse into our stories about our lives and what they mean. We make it all up. All of it. And sometimes it consumes us. For years I had this ongoing drama going about being adopted and what it means. But for me, instead of launching my own adoption journey, I embarked on a spiritual journey. Along that path, I found A Course in Miracles, which is very comparable to Buddhism in certain respects (in my opinion... but I'll save that discussion for another day).

The Course is all about dismantling the ego's hold on our perceptions and our actions. The one year self-study program contains 365 lessons which like koans attempt to crack through the usual way of thinking and open our minds to new possibilities. No doubt, it is a controversial text... but those who have really mined it come through the experience with amazing insights into the self, the ego, forgiveness, right seeing, and love. Reading it, I found quotes like this that made me see my own issues around being adopted in a different light:

What you think you are
is a belief to be undone.

[...from Gifts from A Course in Miracles pg. 50]

The Course doesn't stop at applying this idea to the self... it requires you to apply it to all things. What you think he is/she is/it is is a belief to be undone. I find that this fits comfortably with one of the Fifty Verses on the Nature of Consciousness in Thich Nhat Hanh's Transformation at the Base:

With store consciousness as its support,
Manas arises.
Its function is mentation,
Grasping the seeds it considers to be a "self."

[...from Transformation at the Base: Fifty Verses on the Nature of Consciousness by Thich Nhat Hanh, pg. 94]

Later in the chapter on Mentation, Thay explains:

The object of manas is the perceiver aspect of store consciosness. Just as the perceiver naturally embraces the perceived, manas embraces and clings to this aspect of store consciousness, makes it into an object and that object becomes an idea of self. All manas does is to think and calculate, "This is me." This is called mentation (manana). Day and night, manas is always thinking, believing, grasping, and considering store consciousness as its object, as a separate entity. It is always persent as a kind of instinct that takes its object as itself.

And this is why we have "issues." We look for them. We construct them. We take care of them. We become attached to them.

Watching another adoption story unfold, witnessing it with some distance and objective perspective, I started to understand the  spiritual futility of it all alongside the fundamental and adamant importance placed upon it by the ego. And I could see all "issues" in this light.

I've been stuck in a very ego-centered place these past few months with so much worry about my career, so much irritation because there has been so little stroking of my ego. People keep knocking down my damned towers (or at least I'm feeling like they are) and I'm not happy about it.  I've felt stretched to the limit, and I haven't been practicing. These things together leave me vulnerable, grasping for some sense of calm... some mental "home". There has been no affirmation of self to uphold whatever "me" I think I am and in the absense of that affirmation, the "I" has felt very unsafe.

But I think that's just what happens when we attempt to take refuge in everything except the Three Jewels. What happiness can be found by seeking refuge or salvation in anything else? As for me, I'm just looking at the ways I tend to feed my "issues" and how disconnected, self-indulgent and ego-affirming it all is. It's no wonder I have been having difficulty and resistance around my practice.

I haven't been blogging because I haven't known what to say. I guess I've felt like Jeff did when he wrote:

There seems so little to say lately. It is hard to keep up a blog on Buddhist practice when you are busy with the problem of Buddhist practice in everyday life itself.

I've found myself wondering about the place of this "Buddhist Blog" in my life when it is absent of any real Buddhist practice. Today, I'm tired of fighting it, avoiding it, resisting it, and contemplating all the reasons why I fight it, avoid it, and resist it. All of this self-building leaves me tired and sluggish and instead of writing another word I just need to get active with my practice. Maybe I'll be back later to talk about it.

Greatest Attainment

In the beginning of a book called Achieving Balance, there is a quote by Melodie Beattie from The Language of Letting Go. Melanie says:

Rest when you're tired.
Take a drink of cold water when you're thirsty.
Call a friend when you're lonely.
Ask God for help when you feel overwhelmed.

Many of us have learned how to deprive and neglect
ourselves. Many of us have learned to push
ourselves hard, when the problem is that we've already
pushed too hard. Many of us are afraid the work
won't get done if we rest when we're tired.

The work will get done; it will be done better than
work that emerges from tiredness of soul and spirit.

Nurtured, nourished people, who love themselves and
care for themselves, are the delight of the Universe.
They are well-timed, efficient, and Divinely led.

This reminds me of a previous Daily Dharma entry that quotes Layman Pang. Pang speaks of his greatest attainment. It sounds simple, but the more time that passes as I take this journey into zen, the more I get what a challenge it can be.

Recently I've been forced to look at the ways I push myself and how often I put off doing things that would refuel me. One realization I had over the holidays was the simple understanding that the shackles of business, hurriedness, and overwhelm I have viewed as natural byproducts of this modern, fast-paced life we live are shackles I have taken on... not because I'm forced to but because I choose to.

Yes, I have to get up and go to work every day if I want to feed my family and have a place to live. It's not the getting up and going to work... It's not the commute... It's not the people I work with... It's not the eleven hours I have to give away Monday through Friday... No. None of these things are the source of my overwhelm when I'm overwhelmed. The problem is simply that I won't always sleep when I'm tired, and I don't always eat when I'm hungry. I won't always drink when I'm thirsty, and I don't always perform my practice faithfully.

Between delusion and diligence there is a choice. The wise choices, like warm mittens on cold days, take care of everything. The poor choices tear us apart. Knowing that daily meditation practice can enhance your life accounts for nothing if you know but you still don't sit. Knowing that a certain diet will take good care of your body, guard against illness, shed excess weight and improve your energy levels accounts for nothing if you know but you still go for junk food every chance you get.

I'm in the process of reviewing old tapes of the Franklin Time Management Seminar that was distributed circa 1989. In it, time management guru Hyrum Smith discusses what he calles the productivity triquation. He suggests that there is a cyclical relationship between event control, productivity and self-esteem. What does this mean? When event control decreases, productivity decreases. When productivity decreases, self-esteem plunges. Low self-esteem perpetuates ambivalence about time management, and the cycle continues. On the other hand, when we manage our discretionary time well, our productivity increases as do our feelings of self-worth.

So many people I know are waiting for something to happen so they can feel better about themselves and their lives. They are waiting for that right person, that right job, that right relationship, that right car, that right salary, that right child, that right house, that right number on the scale, that right dress or pant size... This lecture series reminds me that achieving high self-esteem and avoiding overwhelm are simple matters that are under our control. We just need the diligence to do two things every day... We need to decide what's important and do it faithfully. This is my focus right now.