From the Wizard of Oz

https://insig.ht/3Vfk7CoDuSb

"You've always had the power my dear, you just had to learn it for yourself"

- Glinda the Good Witch

🌞💕

I am going back to 5 yrs old while listening to my little red and gold radion and my icon artist said “Bob Marley quote about strength is, "You never know how strong you are, until being strong is the only choice you have.

Cheers to inner strength!

💕☕🐩

Making a Joyful Effort - Christina Feldman

Christina Feldman

https://www.buddhistinquiry.org/article/making-a-joyful-effort/

"How is our mind shaping our participation in life?" ~ Shelly Graf

...being able to lean into the power of choice, and recognizing our powerlessness when facing our craving. ~ Christina Feldman

Byrne - April 17, 2022

 Live Session Summary, April 17, 2022: Good to see everyone today for the Live session. The theme was ‘The transforming power of mindfulness in freeing our heart’. Here are the main themes, poems and quotes:

I briefly reviewed last week’s session on how mindfulness can help us untangle ourselves from suffering using the Buddha’s four noble truths as a framework for investigating suffering in our experience and how to find release from suffering. 

I went on to discuss key elements of wise or skillful mindfulness (Samma Sati, in Pali, or highest mindfulness,) that need to be present if mindfulness is to help us realize freedom from suffering: 

• The first is wise understanding—our awareness needs to be directed to freeing ourselves from suffering, rather than towards gaining wealth or fame or worldly pleasure. Mindfulness directed to these worldly goals is not wise or skillful mindfulness. 

• Similarly, mindfulness needs to be supported by wise intention—the intention of loving-kindness, compassion, and letting go of clinging rather than the intention of harming, cruelty or gaining some material advantage. 

• Mindfulness also needs to be supported by wise or appropriate effort—the use of energy and effort to free ourselves from suffering rather than for gain or fame or another worldly goal. Our effort needs also to be balanced, not too tight or clinging, or too loose and lethargic, if it is to support mindfulness and insight.

• Mindfulness needs to be imbued with attitudes that support us being present and opening to our experience—attitudes of kindness, acceptance, curiosity, patience, non-judging rather than attitudes of clinging, resisting, or judging our experience.

When mindfulness is supported by these qualities, we can shine the spotlight of attention on any aspect of our experience and move from a state of suffering and entanglement to awareness and freedom. This shift from being swept up in, or identified with, our experience—for example, with our fear, worry, craving, blame, or anger—to being aware of our experience is a key to freeing ourselves from suffering. 

I shared the story of the horse and rider and the person shouting ‘where are you going?’ and the rider replying, ‘don’t ask me, ask the horse!’ to illustrate the way that we are often habitually swept along by our thoughts, emotions, and mental narratives rather than choosing the direction of our thoughts and actions. I also shared the quote from Viktor Frankl: ‘Between stimulus and response is a space. In that space lies our ability to choose our response. In our ability to choose lies our growth and our freedom.’ 

The poems I shared today included lines from Mary Oliver’s ‘The Summer Day’; Martha Postlethwaite’s ‘Clearing’; Rumi’s ‘The Guest House’; and Lynn Ungar’s ‘The Way It Is.’ Good wishes for the week ahead and see you next Sunday at 9am eastern. Warmly, Hugh 🙏🏻 🌻

Hugh Byrne - April 3, There was a time ~ Muhyiddin Ibn Arabi

There was a time I would reject those
who were not of my faith.

But now, my heart has grown capable
of taking on all forms.
It is a pasture for gazelles,
An abbey for monks.
A table for the Torah,
Kaaba for the pilgrim.
My religion is love.
Whichever the route love’s caravan shall take,
That shall be the path of my faith.

"There Was a Time," by Muhyiddin Ibn Arabi, from The Interpreter of Longings (Turjumdn al-Ashwdq). Published here as presented at this link. The source might have been an edition edited and translated from the Arabic by R. A. Nicholson. © Dar Sadar, 1348/1929.

Live Session Summary, April 3, 2022: The theme of the Live session this Sunday was ‘Three Gifts of Spiritual Practice.’ The three gifts I highlighted were: 1) The heart/mind can be trained: through practice in cultivating skillful qualities—such as compassion, loving-kindness, mindfulness, equanimity, gratitude, and others—and abandoning harmful states, such as greed, cruelty, hatred, blame, we can free our hearts and live with freedom and joy. The Buddha said, nothing can do you more harm than an untrained mind, not even your worst enemy; nothing can do you more good than a trained mind, not even your mother and father. It is very helpful to find a wise and compassionate path of practice—a path with heart—that others have followed to train the heart/mind. But we need to walk the path ourselves… 

2) The second gift is understanding that the deepest peace and freedom must come from our own efforts. No one can bestow on us understanding and peace that can free us—at best, they can point the way. Our freedom has to come from our own seeing of the truth and letting go of clinging that leads to suffering. In the Kalama Sutta, the Buddha taught that we should place trust in teachings not on the basis of logic, convention, texts, reasoning, what we like, or out of respect for a teacher, but on the basis of our own experience. Does this mind state or behavior lead to welfare and happiness? If so, you should follow it. If a mind state or behavior leads to harm and suffering, it should be avoided. Ehipassiko (in Pali language)—'see for yourself.’

3) The third gift of spiritual practice is to understand that the journey to letting go, peace, and the deepest freedom must begin with awareness of our experience here and now. Bringing mindfulness—a kind and non-judging awareness, compassionate curiosity—to our experience here and now is the gateway to the deepest freedom. The Buddha taught that mindfulness is the direct path to freedom—whatever we are experiencing in this moment that we meet with awareness is a doorway to the deepest happiness and peace. No matter where we are, what we are experiencing, however painful or challenging it may be, this moment, this breath, this feeling or emotion is the doorway to seeing clearly and freeing our heart. 

I shared a quote from Viktor Frankl: ‘Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom.’ Also William Blake: ‘He who binds to himself a joy // Does the winged life destroy. // But he who kisses the joy as it flies // Lives in eternity’s sunrise.’ And Rumi’s ‘The Guest House’; lines from Dorothy Hunt’s ‘Peace’ (‘Peace is this moment without judgment // This moment in the heart-space where everything that is is welcome.’); and Muhyiddin Ibn Al-‘Arabi’s ‘There was a time I would reject those…’

Wishing everyone a good and safe week ahead. Warmly, Hugh 🙏🏻 🌻

To Every Thing There is a Season

To Every Thing There Is A Season

By Lee Reich | Published: January 10, 2015

Pruning is reduced to small steps, in time & process

So many branches, so little time. Or so it seems. Annual pruning is needed to get the best out of most trees, shrubs, and vines, of which there are many here on my farmden.

But wait. My brother once remarked — and the remark rang true — that a large part of feeling overburdened from so much to do comes from thinking about it, rather than doing it. And now that I think about it — if I may be allowed a bit more thought — many trees, shrubs, and vines do not need annual pruning except for size control, in which case a different plant or dwarfer variety could have been planted. My witch hazel shrub is in that hardly-ever-needs-pruning category, as is fothergilla, goumi (an attractive shrub with tasty fruits), mountain laurel, and rhododendron. 

Persistance

Tel un vieux parchemin qui s'enroule sur lui-même,

Les mauvais penchants tendent à revenir, et les nouvelles habitudes

Sont facilement détruites par les circonstances.

Vous ne trancherez pas l'illusion en un instant ;

Vous tous qui vous prenez pour de grands méditants,

Consacrez-vous longtemps encore à la méditation !

GYALWA YANGÖNPA (1213-1287)
Guialwa Yangonpa (rgyal ba yang dgon pa, 1213-1287), citation orale recueillie par l'auteur.

Danna Faulds - Walk Slowly

Walk Slowly

It only takes a reminder to breathe,
a moment to be still, and just like that,
something in me settles, softens, 

makes space for imperfection. The harsh voice 

of judgment drops to a whisper and I 

remember again that life isn’t a relay 

race; that we will all cross the finish

line; that waking up to life is what we

were born for. As many times as I 

forget, catch myself charging forward 

without even knowing where I’m going,

that many times I can make the choice 

to stop, to breathe, and be, and walk 

slowly into the mystery.

-Danna Faulds

Making practice easy - talk by Hugh Byrne on June 27, 2021

Endless effort, listening heaven - Tagore

Trees are Earth's endless effort to speak to the listening heaven. ~ Rabindranath Tagore

We work on ourselves in order to help others, but also we help others in order to work on ourselves. ~ Pema Chodron

Proper effort is not the effort to make something particular happen. It is the effort to be aware and awake each moment. ~ Ajahn Chah

The Rest is Clear

Do Your Best

Elihu Genmyo Smith

Just do your best. This is the whole of practice, the whole of our life. All sorts of chatter comes up in the midst of the circumstances of our life. Something breaks, we clean it up or fix it up. Or we can start chattering about, “Why does this happen to me? Oh, I always do this. What am I going to do? What does this mean?” We all know the consequences of that. After speaking with someone, do we continue holding on to the discussion with “internal” chatter, like, “Why did they say that to me? It’s not fair.” If that chatter—habits of reactions, habits of thoughts and emotions—arises, then right there in the noticed chatter is our practice. Just be chatter in the midst of doing, and allow chatter to pass. Bodily experience this.

The Middle Way

"The beatings will continue until there is an improvement in the morale."

...  John Thomas and Anon.

Wondering if 'right meditation, right effort, right mindfulness' and the grasping for peace, feels like that quote?  If so, it's time to seek the Middle Way.  If so, I have the wrong view, a frozen view.

Grasping, spiritual materialism, the constant pursuit for intellectual understanding.... yep, this is basically the sense of 'the beatings will continue until there is an improvement in the morale,' and it is often the kind of effort I put into this practice...so .... lighten up?

The Refuge of Sitting - Sit with clear intention but also letting go of expectations

The Refuge of Sitting

A reader from Boise, Idaho wries: "How do I develop a disciplined sitting practice?"

Narayan Liebenson Grady

Developing a disciplined sitting practice is a matter of commitment and patience. For many practitioners, it is not easy, even for those who have been sitting for a while. Sitting every day must become a priority in our daily lives rather than just one more thing we have to do. This requires a great deal of dedication, because meditation is not supported by our culture at large. Watching television is rarely criticized as being selfish, whereas a common question that practitioners bring up is whether one “deserves” to sit, implying that it is selfish to do so. Here are a few tips:

Plan to sit at the same time each day. One of the benefits of doing this is that one gets to know the mind that doesn’t want to sit. Personally, I like to sit immediately upon waking up in the morning. For many people, this seems to be a good time, before we become engaged in the activities of the day. But if you have small children or a demanding job, this may not be possible. And some of us have rebellious natures, so any routine presents a problem. Then we need to be flexible.

Another common question is how long to sit. Generally it is better to sit for a shorter amount of time than to sit way beyond our capacity. If we are constantly struggling to stay still, we may find ourselves wanting to throw our cushion against the wall instead of sitting on it. This should be avoided; after all, our frustration is not the cushion’s fault. We should determine for ourselves the amount of time we sit - there are no set formulas. Too long, and we may never want to sit again; too short, and our practice won’t develop.

It can be helpful to set an electronic timer rather than having to watch a clock. Because the practice is to let go of thoughts about the past and the future, this will free you from having to think or worry about time. You can simply set yourself a specific amount of time to sit and rely on an external sound to signal when the sitting is over.

It is important to sit with the clear intention to be present. At the same time, we need to let go of expectations. In a very real sense, what happens when we sit is none of our business. The practice is to accept whatever arises instead of trying to control our experience. What we can control is our wise effort to be present with what is. We can spend a lot of our sitting time dwelling on memories of past sittings or fantasizing of those to come. When we read or hear about the benefits of meditation, it is tempting to dwell on the stories of wonderful outcomes instead of doing the work of actualizing these possibilities ourselves. There can be a big gap between what we have read about and what is actually happening. Sitting is a way of putting our bodies behind our aspirations.

Some of us sit only when our lives are going well. When difficulties arise, we stop our practice rather than sit with disturbing emotions such as anxiety and anger. Others sit only when facing a big challenge, hoping that sitting will help us get through it. Being aware of these tendencies is part of what we face in sustaining a regular practice.

What hinders and intimidates beginners especially are experiences such as restlessness, sleepiness, and boredom. If we view these energies as part of the practice itself instead of what we need to get rid of in order to meditate, our sittings will be smoother and we will develop the inner strength to be able to be with all experiences with greater equanimity.

Even so, only rarely is sitting practice sustained without help from others. This cannot be overemphasized. To sit with others is a way to feel newly inspired and able to continue. Usually it is easier to sit for a longer amount of time in the company of others than to sit alone. Peer pressure can be a good thing. By sitting with others, even once a week, we re-inspire our practice, while in sitting alone we learn self-reliance.

Whatever technique one is using, remember that the spirit of practice is more important than the technique. Finding a way to enjoy just sitting is key. Sitting meditation is a refuge, not a test.

Narayan Liebenson Grady is a guiding teacher at the Cambridge Insight Meditation Center. She also teaches regularly at the Insight Meditation Center and the Barre Center for Buddhist Studies.

The Time is Now - Les Kaye

The Time is Now

Les Kaye

All the “spills” we create—not just with our hands but in the ocean of personal relationships as well—begin in our own mind. Distracted by the many things we have to do in a brief time, our attention wanders away from taking care of the activity in front of it, becoming concerned instead for finishing the task as quickly as it can so it can move on to another item on its list of priorities. Giving in to distraction, we give up caring about the activity we are doing. And in a subtle but real way, when we do that we also give up caring about our self, about the value of the effort we are making with our life.

Perhaps like never before, a major concern these busy and stressful days is for the lack of time—time to do everything that needs to be done, to do it “on time,” and to do it in a quality way. But the real problem for us is not about the scarcity of time— which we can, after all, learn to manage through a variety of strategies. Instead, the real source of suffering is the feeling that “I must get on to something else; this activity is taking too much time.” When we have this attitude, we really don’t know what we are doing—our mind is somewhere else, not focused on what it earlier decided it needs to take care of. If we don’t know what we are doing, how can we be our self? If our mind is somewhere else, it means we are trying to be someone else, not who we are in the present moment. However, by practicing awareness, we can train ourselves to respond to distractions in a positive way and increase our capacity to give full attention to the task or relationship before us.

The quiet, empty space of zazen reveals the mind’s addiction to imagining the future and reminiscing about the past. It helps us understand how dwelling in a time other than the present starts to churn the ego: anxieties arise, desires become distractions, and to do things well is nearly impossible. But when there is no idea of time, there are no expectations, and desires do not become a problem.

Meditation teaches us to be wary of allowing ideas of time to interfere with our activity. Through experience, we discover how not to lose our self, but instead to be fully engaged in the “doing” of whatever it is we decided that we must do. Awareness practice is like any other skill-building activity. It is not meant to be casual, or occasional, or reserved for only when convenient.

By setting aside ideas of how productive or efficient we are in our use of time, we can take time to take care of ourselves physically, emotionally, and spiritually. Meditation is the best way to “manage” time, the best way to prevent spills. Spilling something and making a mess can be a signal that we are too concerned about time and all the things we have to do. Developing the skill to recognize that we are distracted and to return the mind to awareness of the present moment enables us to appreciate our self in all activities.

From Joyously Through the Days by Les Kaye, © 2011. Reprinted with permission of Wisdom Publications.

The Supreme Contemplation

Practicing with the Four RemindersAndrew Holecek

One of the best ways to prepare for death is to acknowledge that we really are going to die. We’re falling in the dark and have no idea when we’ll hit the ground. Buddhist scholar Anne Klein says, “Life is a party on death row. Recognizing mortality means we are willing to see what is true. Seeing what is true is grounding. It brings us into the present. . . .” We all know that we’re going to die, but we don’t know it in our guts. If we did, we would practice as if our hair were on fire. One way to swallow the bitter truth of mortality and impermanence—and get it into our guts—is to chew on the four reminders.

The four reminders, or the four thoughts that turn the mind, are an important preparation for death because they turn the mind from constantly looking outward to finally looking within. These reminders, also called the four reversals, were composed by Padmasambhava, the master who brought Buddhism from India to Tibet. They can be viewed as representing the trips Prince Siddhartha took outside his palace that eventually transformed him into the Buddha. During these trips, Siddhartha encountered old age, sickness, and death, and developed the renunciation that turned his mind away from the distractions and deceptions of the outer world and in toward silence and truth.

As a meditation instructor, I often prescribe the four reminders as the best remedy to get students who have stalled on the path back on track. As with mindfulness itself, the four reminders provide another way to work with distraction. They bring the key instruction from The Tibetan Book of the Dead—“do not be distracted”—to a more comprehensive level. The four reminders show us that it’s not just momentary distraction that’s problematic but distraction at the level of an entire life. If we’re not reminded, we can waste our whole life.

The Tibetan Buddhist teacher Chögyam Trungpa Rinpoche presented them this way:

FIRST Contemplate the preciousness of being so free and well favored. This is difficult to gain and easy to lose. Now I must do something meaningful.

SECOND The whole world and its inhabitants are impermanent. In particular, the life of beings is like a bubble. Death comes without warning; this body will be a corpse. At that time the dharma will be my only help. I must practice it with exertion.

THIRD When death comes, I will be helpless. Because I create karma, I must abandon evil deeds and always devote myself to virtuous actions. Thinking this, every day I will examine myself.

FOURTH The homes, friends, wealth, and comforts of samsara are the constant torment of the three sufferings, just like a feast before the executioner leads you to your death. I must cut desire and attachment, and attain enlightenment through exertion.

How long should we contemplate these reminders? Until our mind turns. Until we give up hope for samsara (the worldly cycle of birth and death), and realize the folly of finding happiness outside.

Most of us spend our lives looking out at the world, chasing after thoughts and things. We’re distracted by all kinds of objects and rarely look into the mind that is the ultimate source of these objects. If we turn our mind and look in the right direction, however, we will find our way to a good life—and a good death. Instead of being carried along with the external constructs of mind, we finally examine the internal blueprints of mind itself.

It’s often said that the preliminaries are more important than the main practice. The significance of these four reminders, as a preliminary practice, cannot be overstated. Chökyi Nyima Rinpoche said that if we could truly take them to heart, 50 percent of the path to enlightenment would be complete. These contemplations develop revulsion to conditioned appearances, point out their utter futility, and cause awareness to prefer itself rather than outwardly appearing objects. They turn the mind away from substitute gratifications and direct it toward authentic gratification—which can only be found within.

The four thoughts remind us of the preciousness of this human life; that we are going to die; that karma follows us everywhere; and that samsara is a waste of time that only perpetuates suffering. Memorize them. They will reframe your life, focus your mind, and advise you in everything you do. As Dr. Samuel Johnson, the author of the first English dictionary, said: “When a man knows he is to be hanged in a fortnight, it concentrates his mind wonderfully.”

What would you do if you had six months to live? What would you cut out of your life? What would you do if you had one month, one week, one day? The Indian master Atisha said, “If you do not contemplate death in the morning, the morning is wasted. If you do not contemplate death in the afternoon, the afternoon is wasted. If you do not contemplate death in the evening, the evening is wasted.” The four reminders remove the waste.

We see others dying all around us but somehow feel entitled to an exemption. In the Hindu epicMahabharata, the sage Yudhishthira is asked, “Of all things in life, what is the most amazing?” He answers, “That a man, seeing others die all around him, never thinks he will die.” If we acknowledge death and use it an advisor, however, it will prioritize our life, ignite our renunciation, and spur our meditation. The Buddha said: “Of all footprints, that of the elephant is the deepest and most supreme. Of all contemplations, that of impermanence is the deepest and most supreme.”

Bring these supreme reminders into your life and realize that life is like a candle flame in the wind. Visualize friends and family and think, “Uncle Joe is going to die, my sister Sarah is going to die, my friend Bill is going to die, I am going to die.” Put pictures of dead loved ones on your desk or shrine; put sticky notes with the word “death” or “I am going to die” inside drawers or cabinets to remind you; read an obituary every day; go to nursing homes, cemeteries, and funerals. The essence of spiritual practice is remembrance, whether it’s remembering to come back to the present moment or recalling the truth of impermanence. Do whatever it takes to realize that time is running out and you really could die today. You are literally one breath away from death. Breathe out, don’t breathe in, and you’re dead.

One of the marks of an advanced student is that he or she finally realizes that today could be the day. Realizing impermanence is what makes them advance. For most of us, however, as Paul Simon sang, “I’ll continue to continue to pretend / My life will never end. . . .” We essentially spend our lives moving deck chairs around on the Titanic. No matter how we position ourselves—no matter how comfortable we try to get—it’s all going down.

These teachings exhort us not to spend our lives, which most of us do—literally and figuratively. Reinvest. Take the precious opportunity that has been given to you, and do not waste your life. The four thoughts that turn the mind turn it from reckless spending to wise investing. We spend so much effort investing in our future. We invest in IRAs, 401(k)s, pension plans, and retirement portfolios. Spiritual advisors exhort us to invest in our much more important bardo (post-death) retirement plan. That’s our real future.

Don’t worry so much about social security. Finance your karmic security instead. Invest in yourfuture lives now. Investing so much in this life is like checking into a hotel for a few days and redecorating the room: what’s the point? B. Alan Wallace says, “In light of death, our mundane desires are seen for what they are. If our desires for wealth, luxury, good food, praise, reputation, affection, and acceptance by other people, and so forth are worth nothing in the face of death, then that is precisely their ultimate value.”

On a personal note, understanding impermanence has been the greatest gift in my study and practice of the teachings on death. I’m thickheaded, but I finally get it: I am going to die—and it could be today. My life has been completely restructured because I now believe it. The rugged truth of impermanence has simplified my life, shown me what is important, and inspired me to really practice. Sogyal Rinpoche says in The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying:

Ask yourself these two questions: Do I remember at every moment that I am dying, and that everyone and everything else is, and so treat all beings at all times with compassion? Has my understanding of death and impermanence become so keen and so urgent that I am devoting every second to the pursuit of enlightenment? If you can answer “yes” to both of these, then you really understand impermanence.

These reminders may seem like a morbid preoccupation with death, but that is only because of our extreme aversion to dying. For most of us, death is the final defeat. As Jack LaLanne, the fitness and diet guru, once said, “I can’t afford to die. It would wreck my image.” We live in denial of death, and suffer in direct proportion to this denial when death occurs. The four reminders remind us of the uncompromising truth of reality, and prepare us to face it.

The four reminders, joined with mindfulness meditation, instill a strength of mind that benefits both self and other. Sakyong Mipham Rinpoche says,

The strength of shamatha [mindfulness meditation] is that our mind is slow enough and stable enough to bring in the reality, to really see it. Then when someone we know is dying, we aren’t so shaken up. We may be sad, in the sense of feeling compassion, but we have thoroughly incorporated the notion of death to the point that it has profoundly affected our life. That is known as strength of mind.

That stability naturally radiates to stabilize the mind of the dying person, which helps them when everything is being blown away.

Dying people are sometimes jealous of those still alive. “Why do I have to die when everyone else keeps on living? It’s so unfair. Why me?” At that point they need to remember that those left behind are not returning to a party that lasts till infinity. Those left behind are returning to a challenging life that is filled with endless dissatisfaction and suffering. As you are dying, remember that it’s just a matter of time before everyone else joins you, just as you are about to join the billions of others who have already left this life for another one. Those left behind are a minority. No one is going to get out of this alive.

And he who dies with the most toys still dies.

Adapted from Preparing to Die by Andrew Holecek, © 2013. Reprinted with permission of Snow Lion, an imprint of Shambhala Publications. www.shambhala.com.

Photographs by Shimon and Tammar

Images: Gallerystock

Skillful Effort

Skillful Effort

Not too little, not too muchPeter Doobinin

Some dharma teachers may be reluctant to encourage students to make strong effort. The Buddha, however, wasn’t at all shy about urging his disciples to do so. In doing so, he often explained to his followers that he was exhorting them because he had compassion for them, because he wanted them to find an end to suffering.

It takes strong effort to follow the Buddha’s path. It isn’t a path for the lazy or halfhearted. Like any meaningful undertaking, dharma practice requires great effort. Think about anybody who has achieved a high level of proficiency in a particular area. Chances are, they’ve made exceptional effort. Very little in life is accomplished without a degree of perspiration. When we watch somebody display great expertise, it all may seem rather effortless; but the truth is, it takes a lot of practice to reach that seemingly effortless state.

As dharma students we’re asked to make strong effort. But we’re asked to make a certain kind of effort: skillful effort. During the course of our lives, most of us have probably had a rather unskillful relationship to the subject of effort. In making effort, in whatever context, we’ve probably cultivated bad habits. We’ve probably caused ourselves suffering. Most of us, of course, were never shown how to make skillful effort. On the contrary, the people who served as roles models for us—parents, teachers, bosses, and so on—probably showed us how to make unskillful effort. In all likelihood we’ve learned ways of making effort that aren’t useful in terms of finding true happiness in our lives.

So how do we make skillful effort?

As dharma practitioners we make effort in the service of abandoning the unskillful and developing the skillful. The Buddha explains:

And what, monks, is right effort? There is the case where a monk generates desire, endeavors, activates persistence, upholds and exerts his intent for the sake of the non-arising of evil, unskillful qualities that have not yet arisen . . . He upholds and exerts his intent for the sake of the abandonment of evil, unskillful qualities that have arisen. He . . . upholds and exerts his intent for the sake of the arising of skillful qualities that have not yet arisen. He generates desire, endeavors, activates persistence, upholds and exerts his intent for the maintenance, non-confusion, increase, plenitude, development, and culmination of skillful qualities that have arisen: This, monks, is called right effort. (Samyutta Nikaya 45.8; trans. Thanissaro Bhikkhu)

In developing skillful effort we pay attention to (1) the quantity of our effort and (2) the quality of our effort.

It is important to be mindful of the quantity of our effort. Effort must be balanced. To this end we’re asked, in developing skillful effort, to discern whether we’re making too little or too much effort.

In observing the quantity of our effort, we step back and take a broad view of our practice. Doing so, you may discern that you’re not making enough effort. You may recognize, for instance, that you need to make greater effort to practice breath meditation. You’ve been meditating four or five days a week, but you realize it’s not enough. In order to develop sufficient concentration you’re going to need to meditate every day.

Conversely, you may discern that you’re making too much effort. Perhaps you’re putting too much time into “closed eyes” practice. As a result, you’ve been neglecting other parts of your life like your work or your relationships. All the meditation, you see, isn’t actually supporting your efforts to end suffering.

We also observe the effort we’re making from moment to moment as we’re following the Buddha’s path. Scrutinizing your efforts while meditating, you may discern that you’re not applying sufficient effort. You’re chasing after thoughts, and you’re not making much, if any, effort to bring your attention back to the breath. Recognizing that your effort is slack, you increase it.

We increase effort largely by inclining to the skillful quality of effort. We assert the intention to make more effort. We tell ourselves: More effort. We have an innate ability to make effort. It may not be developed, but we have it. By inclining to this quality, shining the light of our awareness on it, we’re able to connect to our capacity for making effort.

Examining your effort while meditating, you may notice that you’re making too much effort. Gritting your teeth, dripping with sweat, you’re pushing like a jogger with a twisted ankle trying to run up a hill. This sort of over-efforting creates tension and dis-ease. It prevents you, in fact, from developing concentration.

In the sutta “About Sona” (Sona Sutta), the Buddha explains how to cultivate skillful effort. Sona was a monk with a propensity for making an inordinate amount of effort. It seems he was putting so much effort into walking meditation that his feet were bleeding. Clearly, the way Sona was going about things wasn’t working, and he was getting discouraged. In fact, he was considering giving up the monk’s life. When effort is unskilled, we often find dharma practice unpleasant, and, consequently, we build up an aversion to the practice. The aversion frequently leads to doubt. We doubt our ability to practice. We doubt the practice itself. Many practitioners get caught in this syndrome.

Luckily for Sona, the Buddha was clued in to his dilemma. He taught Sona to develop skillful effort:

“Now what do you think, Sona. Before, when you were a house-dweller, were you skilled at playing the vina [a lute or guitar]?”
“Yes, lord.”
“And what do you think: when the strings of your vina were too taut, was your vina in tune and playable?”
“No, lord.”
. . .
“And what do you think: when the strings of your vina were neither too taut nor too loose, but tuned to be right on pitch, was your vina in tune and playable?”
“Yes, lord.”
“In the same way, Sona, overaroused persistence leads to restlessness, overly slack persistence leads to laziness. Thus you should determine the right pitch for your persistence. . . .” (Anguttara Nikaya 6.55, trans. Thanissaro Bhikkhu)

If effort isn’t balanced, the Buddha says, we’ll produce an untoward result, in the same way that a stringed instrument, if not tuned properly, will produce a dissonant sound. In dharma practice, our effort must be “in tune.” Like a musician, the dharma student learns to discern the “pitch” of his effort. When he notices he’s making insufficient effort, he turns the effort up. When he’s making too much effort, he turns it down. Cultivating skillful effort, we learn to distinguish the “right” amount of effort. Not too little. Not too much. Just right. In tune. When we find the right pitch, our practice flourishes.

There have probably been times during your life, when you’ve been involved in certain endeavors, when you didn’t mind making a lot of effort. In all likelihood your strong exertion was in the service of doing something you wanted to do, something you enjoyed. This was my experience when I played soccer in high school and college. The sport required much effort, but I didn’t mind. On the contrary, I loved every minute of it. Putting effort into it wasn’t a problem; it was a joy.

In traversing the Buddha’s path, we have to learn to develop this same kind of heartful effort. We have to learn to practice heartfully. We have to learn to put our heart into the practice.

The heart quality that motivates dharma practice is compassion; we practice out of compassion for ourselves, so that we may end our suffering. You may not have a heartful relationship to dharma practice. But that’s okay; you can learn to put your heart into your practice.

It’s all about intention. If your intention is skillful, imbued with compassion, the quality of your effort will be skillful. And you can develop skillful intention.

As you practice the dharma, it’s important to pay close attention to the quality of your intention. As you scrutinize your practice, you may discern that the quality of your effort is unskillful. You may discern that your effort is informed by unskillful desire. Maybe you’re compelled by an excessive desire to obtain results.

Or, as you sit down to meditate, you may notice that you’re riddled with aversion. You don’t want to be doing what you’re doing. Like a kid who doesn’t want to play the piano, you’re practicing, but you’re not happy about it.

You may discern, when meditating, that your intention is marred by delusion. You’re not in touch with a clear-cut intention. As you take your seat on the cushion or chair, you’re like somebody who’s been getting on the same commuter train every day for the past twenty years. You’re just going through the motions.

As dharma students developing skillful effort, we seek to purify our intention. We recognize when our intention is unskillful, infused with desire, aversion, or delusion. Assuming the role of the observer, we step back from the unskillful mental quality. We get some distance from it. We stop feeding it. The unskillful quality, in turn, begins to lose its power.

Abandoning unskillful intention, we develop skillful intention. We develop skillful intention by (1) asserting directed thought and (2) connecting to a felt sense.

When we sit down to meditate, we see what the mind is like. Then we set a skillful intention. We assert that we’re going to practice breath meditation, and we’re going to practice out of compassion for ourselves. Then we connect to a felt sense of the heart, the feeling of compassion. It’s important to set a skillful intention at the beginning of every period of formal meditation.

After my morning meditation and before attending to the day’s affairs, I’ll set an intention to keep the breath in mind as the day goes on. Asserting directed thought, I’ll say something along these lines: “I’m going make an effort to keep the breath in mind throughout the day. I’m going to practice out of compassion for myself.” I’ll put my attention on my heart center and apprehend a felt sense of compassion. During the day I’ll check my intention, looking to see if I’m making a wholehearted effort to keep the breath in mind. If I see that I’ve lost the thread, I’ll reset my intention.

In order to move forward toward a greater happiness, we have to learn to make skillful effort. When effort is unskillful, our ability to move forward is greatly diminished. Think about Sona. Plagued by his out-of-tune effort, he came close to forsaking the dharma.

In many ways, it’s the skillfulness of our effort that determines our ability to go on.

Sona, in fact, became fully enlightened, an arahant, not long after he learned to adjust his effort. And although we might not become arahants, we’ll certainly come to know the fruits of the path if we learn to make skillful effort.

Next page: Practice

Work and Play - Tricycle Daily Dharma, July 30, 2013

Work and Play

The key to maintaining your inspiration in the day-to-day work of meditation practice is to approach it as play—a happy opportunity to master practical skills, to raise questions, experiment, and explore.

- Thanissaro Bhikkhu, "The Joy of Effort"

Bowing helps to eliminate our self-centered ideas. This is
not so easy. It is difficult to get rid of these ideas, and bowing
is a very valuable practice. The result is not the point; it is
the effort to improve ourselves that is valuable. There is no
end to this practice.

--Shunryu Suzuki, (Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind -- on Bowing)

Value of Zen

The value of Zen does not reside in the practice itself.  Rather, the value of Zen arises from the commitment and effort a person brings to the practice.

Zen only asks that you try.  Day after day:  Try.  That's the only requirement.

--Barry Briggs in 'The Path of Zen'  16pp.



I take this to mean that it isn't about technique, but rather the intention to be awake.

Vow

Sentient beings are numberless....
Delusions are endless....we vow to....

The Big Squeeze  betweEn reality and vision....which makes us decent,alive, mature and compassionate....to quote pema chodron.