It's been my experience that when things happen that are beyond our
control — and we are shocked into a struggle to deal with them — our spiritual
life is challenged in a positive way. Our refuge is tested and has the
opportunity to deepen exponentially.
In Jeff Wilson's book, Buddhism of the Heart: Reflections on Shin
Buddhism and Inner Togetherness, he writes, “Our ideas of power and
control are really illusions.... Although it's the most difficult of all
difficulties, acceptance is the only real option.”
Yet, as my teacher, Rev. Koyo Kubose of the Bright Dawn Center of
Oneness Buddhism (brightdawnsangha.ning.com), teaches
and his father, Rev. Gyomay Kubose, taught, “acceptance IS transcendence.”
I recently experienced a situation that has seemingly ended a long
friendship. It was something that was totally unexpected on my end and caused
me a period of shock and hurt. This situation emerged outside of my awareness
and challenged my trust, and expectations of how I thought a friend would
behave. It left me with no good choices for resolution, only ones that would
lead to further negative consequences from resentment or an exchange of strong
words.
I am a “fixer.” I think many of us are, in this culture. It is very
hard for me to just accept a situation that is in any way
uncomfortable or challenging. Yet, I was in a situation that seemingly couldn't
be fixed, so I had no choice but acceptance. But, admittedly, in this and other
situations in my life, this acceptance did not feel like transcendence, but
instead like failure and a collapse of a major belief structure.
Our lives, in the West in 2012, are relatively comfortable and “in
control.” It is easy to take for granted that every day will continue much like
the day before … and that most of our plans will work out and our expectations
will be reasonably fulfilled. Even though we know that, realistically, it isn't
really the case.
Things can go wrong and sometimes horribly so: we can lose our jobs,
suffer an illness or accident, or the death of someone close to us. Things can
go wrong in not so horrible ways, too, that cause us to suffer none-the-less:
problems on the job, a fender bender, losing electricity, or, as in my recent
experience, a misunderstanding with a close friend.
And each time one of these events happen, I try to immediately “fix it.”
By fixing it, I try to make it go away — clinging, or attaching to my current
state. But making it go away doesn't make it go away; it just seems like it
does. Making it go away is really either denial, repression, or blame.
This situation, though, was such a blow to me that my fix-it impulse
burned out rather quickly and my ego motivation to try to do something about it
retreated almost as quickly. The deep hurt I felt made me give up and that was
a very good thing. Although, initially, the giving-up type of acceptance felt
like failure, I have started to enter the initial phases of positive, or
active, acceptance. The shock, hurt, and anger are lessening and I am now in a
stage that I can only describe as an opening-up, and a feeling of spaciousness.
Richard Rohr, (a Franciscan Friar, ordained Roman Catholic priest, and
founder of the Center for Action and Contemplation), talks about this
spaciousness in his book, Falling Upward: Spirituality for the Two Halves of
Life.” He writes: “The opposite of rational is not
always irrational, but also can be transrational or
bigger than the rational mind can process.” He says, the transrational
“has the capacity to keep us inside...a larger horizon so that the
soul, the heart, and the mind does not close down inside of a small and
constricted space.”
His "transrational" process is non-dual thinking: not
either-or, not right-wrong, but both-and. Sometimes things just
happen.
I am reaching this transrational, transcendent point with time ...
through long periods of quiet reflection and reading of both Buddhist and
Christian teachings. In Buddhism, it is taught that we must “hear, think, and
meditate” to grow in our practice. In Christianity, there is a traditional
Catholic practice called Lectio Divina (Latin for divine
reading).
In this situation, I discovered a productive way of reaching active
acceptance by reflecting on my situation in an interspiritual way that I now
refer to as dealing with “Tough Grace” through “Calm
Abiding.”
In A Monk in the World: Cultivating a Spiritual Life, Wayne
Teasdale, a Catholic monk and champion of interfaith dialogue, who coined the
phrase “interspiritual”, writes of “Tough Grace” as like the concept of
“tough love.” Tough love is where families and friends help a loved one out of
destructive patterns by challenging her. He says “tough grace” is the “Divine's
way of reaching certain souls who may need a measure of suffering to rise above
their preoccupations.” He calls it “divine communication” that “operates
through illness, injustice, psychological problems, and misunderstandings to
bring us to a single-minded attention of what is important for our ultimate
development.”
And what I found particularly true to me was this benefit he writes
about: “Tough grace brings about a radical simplification of our lives” that
“highlights just what we need for the spiritual journey and counsels us to
leave the rest behind.” He says, “suffering stretches us and stimulates our
growth” and claims that when suffering is rightly understood and embraced
generously, it is ultimately a path to spiritual transformation.
But, as I found, to get there you have to sit through the
uncomfortableness. This is where Buddhist teaching counseled me. Pema Chodron
teaches a method of sitting with uncomfortable feelings and strong emotions
that she calls “Calm Abiding.” We just sit with the discomfort, abiding
with it — in it — while not identifying with it, telling stories about it, or
repressing it. I see it now like a bird sitting on its eggs or a soon-to-be
mother living in the discomfort and uncertainty of the nine months of pregnancy
with trust and confidence that her uncomfortable body will transform to produce
a child.
We make it through challenges not by “overcoming them”, as Western
cultural heroes illustrate, but by enduring, abiding, sitting with. This wisdom
is repeated in all spiritual traditions as is beautifully illustrated in Tao
warriors of stillness and inaction. Sitting with uncomfortableness or “sitting
in the questions” is a great spiritual strength that Rev. Koyo teaches as
“don't conclude.”
And in circling back to Buddhism and Shin Buddhism for my
interspiritual refuge, I hung on to what I have proven to be true in my life
before: when human reasoning and strength, or self power, has been exhausted,
we come back to our simplicity, our naturalness. I found peace by giving up. In
the giving up, I transcended my expectations, my judgment, my ego, and my self
power.
And for a final interspiritual volley, I will close with more wisdom
from Richard Rohr. He talks about the concept of “hitting bottom” saying “it
is often when the ego is most deconstructed that we can hear things anew and
begin honest reconstruction.”
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