Tuesday, August 16, 2016

Morning Equanimity

   This morning it turns out, I felt insufficiently rested. Though my body ached a bit as I woke up, I told myself that this is the everyday suffering of having to wake up and start the day anew. And strangely enough, this very thought that suffering is a foundation actually motivated me to push forward. Why is that so? The thought gave me room to drop my attitude of wanting the body to be more relaxed or to somehow have its optimal feeling in that moment. I think this also allowed me to be more unconditional about what I was experiencing at that moment.
    It is interesting how the sometimes very sober, perhaps negative assessment of things can give a person more strength than its opposite, 'positive' counterpart. I should preface here by saying that positive and negative are relative terms. When I try to put a positive spin on something that feels painful, the contrast often accentuates the pain, or makes it seem like an element that should be out of the picture. On the other hand, when I fully accept the pain as present and even appropriate in that moment, I give mind space to just take in what's in front of me. It's perhaps no wonder that in Buddhism, the First Noble Truth is about suffering. It's facing suffering that is often the biggest task; once it is faced honestly and openly without rejecting, it can become a kind of adventure to understand it and contemplate it directly. Only then can a person start to unpack the layers of mind states which compose the suffering itself.
      I have recently been reading Soren Kierkegaard's book, Acts of Love, which describes the commandment in Christianity to love one's neighbour. What does it really mean to "love one's neighbour"? Kierkegaard points out that neighbourly love is based on a respect for the other who is not ourselves, and without distinction based on personal preference. If I even slightly admire someone for their social status or look down on someone else for their clothing, I have already strayed from this commandment, since I no longer love all beings "equally". I see parallels between this concept and the concept of compassion in Buddhism. Compassion, as embodied in Guanyin Pusa, is like a rain which falls evenly on the whole forest, even though it may have different effects on different kinds of plants. Where does it come from, this compassion? For a Buddhist, it would likely come from an insight into the interconnection of all beings. For Kierkegaard, the compassion or love for neighbour comes from a commandment, which in turn arises from God's forgiveness toward humans.
      Both kinds of compassionate love are not preferential, and there is a kind of ruggedness to them. In order to practice the commandment to love one's neighbour, for instance, one simply does not wait for the feeling to arise; it is seen as a direct 'shalt' which oversteps emotions toward engagement with neighbours. Similarly, compassion can arise from equanimity: not giving preference to one state of being or another, thus seeing that all states have an equal legitimacy in the mind. What is also interesting is the sense of relief that such a commandment would engender, to a mind that is so used to acting upon impulses and feelings. I think it's the relief that comes from non-preferential seeing: seeing with a broad mind that does not pick and choose between people based on their appearance, what they wear, what they eat, where they come from, and so on. Is it possible that Kierkegaard's notion of the eternal command to love one's neighbour has a parallel in the bodhisattva path of equanimity and compassion for all beings? Could they both be aiming at achieving a relief from the suffering that comes from using emotional states to choose one's behaviors, rather than using the principle of no-self? I think that in both cases there is a kind of parallel shift away from acting upon emotional whim or inspiration, and toward acting on the principle that underlies those appearances. In the case of Buddhism, the principle might be impermanence or emptiness. In Kierkegaard's writings, the principle could very well be the love of God which is said to reach down to all people equally.

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