Where Courage is Born

A friend of mine told me a story in which his wife was pissed off. She let him have it with a list of grievances about the things he does wrong and how unhappy she is with their relationship. She couldn't keep her feelings bottled up anymore and wanted him to have a taste.

My friend suffered. It hurt to hear these things, but in this heated moment he experienced clarity. His ego shut off. His wife's words were like noise that didn't warrant a reaction. He noticed her heart and the suffering she radiated. It was like he allowed his brain to quit reacting so that their hearts could synchronize.

The Way in is the Way out

An old friend told me he felt like something was missing in his life. He talked about filling a void. He took a new job thinking that would solve it. But the void was still there. He talked about his lack of mindfulness, his habit of over-eating and the way he always feels like having the TV on to fill the silence.

I can relate to feeling like there is something missing. This is what led me to meditation. But what I've come to realize through the practice of meditation, is that this feeling of emptiness, which we might refer to as a void, is not the problem.

We All Want to Be Good Kings and Queens

I'm a big geek when it comes to stories about brave warriors battling the forces of darkness and tyranny. So naturally, I was excited about Game of Thrones, the mini-series on HBO about several medieval kingdoms battling for rule over a fantasy world full of aggression, fear and materialism. The House of Stark is the family you are supposed to root for. They are not perfect, but they are noble, take care of their people and believe in justice. 

At one point in the story, one of the Stark men feels lost. He doesn't know whether to march his army north or south. He is being pulled in different directions, not knowing whose counsel to listen to, not knowing whom he can trust. When a young maiden shows him kindness, he lets out his frustration. Then he apologizes. He says, "that's not the kind of king I want to be." When the maiden asks what kind of king he would like to be, he says, "I don't know... the good kind."

How to Be a Coward

I got snippy with a guy the other day. I could see the surprise on this face, so I realized I needed to turn down the volume. I felt a bit embarrassed and he felt a bit hurt. We went on with our conversation, pretending like nothing happened.

After the conversation I left, and then I thought, "wow, where did that come from? When did I become such an asshole?" I was uncomfortable. I could feel it in my chest. There was a battle going on inside my head, but I decided I had a lot to do, so I pushed the thoughts and discomfort away. It's easy to keep painful or disturbing thoughts away by finding other ways to distract your mind. That's how people with families become workaholics.

Experiencing Pain

Life is beautiful and full of pain. When we feel something painful in our hearts, our instinct is to escape. We can be like little kids, seeing a bee and running away in terror. But we could aspire to be more steady than that, a little more courageous.

When I was on retreat in April, I took a hike up to the purkhang where Chogyam Trungpa was cremated. It's in a grassy meadow, surrounded by pine forests and mountains on three sides that reach straight up to the clouds.

I was looking at the purkhang, taking in the space, when another woman on retreat, who was circumambulating the purkhang, suddenly broke out into tears. I knew what was on her mind because she told me one of her closest friends was dying.

How to Dissolve Resentment

It's easy to get fixated on resentment in life. We resent not being loved; we resent snarky remarks; we resent our talents going unnoticed; we resent prejudice; we resent not being perfect. But resentment is the ground for us to work from, when we realize that resentment is a cowardly and ineffective attempt to avoid pain.

To be clear, I'm not talking about anger or saying we shouldn't be angry sometimes. When we see people being oppressed, anger seems the appropriate response. What I'm talking about is petty resentment, which often leads us to talk a lot of smack in the face of something we interpret as a personal affront.

It takes courage to work with our resentment, and it takes a mind that is aware of the object of resentment, our fear and the impulse to escape from it. At the bottom of resentment is pain and we need the courage to run straight into that pain. The way in is the way out.

Wax on Wax off

The other night I attended a talk with Lodro Rinzler, who was in DC on a tour for his new book, The Buddha Walks into a Bar. I was selling books while he signed copies and a woman came up to him and told him what a hard time she was having with her health and her family. She asked, "does it get easier?" He looked at her in a way that I knew he was listening with an open heart. "Yes, I think it does," he said.

I often think of meditation practice as a "two steps forward, one step back" situation. If we set our minds to it, we can develop a fulfilling practice with great discipline. This discipline can extend out to the rest of our lives so that we gain real insights and feel we are on the right track. Then something happens: we get hooked by our emotions, we lose our tempers, someone offends us, our sense of openness closes down and we want to tear our heart out and stomp on it…. or as I like to say, "the fit hits the shan."

6 Ways to Approach Lust and Monogamy

Jeff Bridges (who is a Buddhist and a big fan of Chogyam Trungpa) did an interview with Tricycle Magazine in 2010. He described how he develops intimacy with the actors he works with, which leads to convincing performances. He discussed how his wife allows him to develop these deep relationships and how there is no sex involved, because then it would just get weird.

This interests me because I've often had a sad feeling about being in a relationship, since it seems like you aren't supposed to be curious about or attracted to anyone other than your current partner. Inevitably, I have been curious, and often this feeling made me feel like I needed to put a leash on myself and nip the whole thing in the bud.

Guest Post: Fearlessness through Fear

I had always been fine flying until one particular flight in August of 2010. I was going to Tanzania to give some presentations and expected it to be a difficult trip, my first time to Africa, hostile audience (people who weren't happy with the strategy my team was developing), you get the idea. I boarded the plane and sat down my seat in the very back row. All of a sudden, I just began to feel trapped, like I couldn't breathe, hot, legs shaking, and panicked.

4 Buddhist Ways to Loosen the Bully's Grip

Whether in the schoolyard or in the workplace, bullies seem ever-present in the United States. Competition, aggression and our tendency to be hyper-self-critical are aspects of our culture that contribute to this. 


The behavior of the bullies you confront will change as you get older, but at any age, a bully is someone who tries to break your spirit. Bullies pump themselves up by teasing or terrorizing others, exposing the painful fact that their victims are weaker. They may lock kids in the wood-shop tool shed (my own personal experience), steal lunch money, or continuously undermine their co-workers to make themselves look more important or competent. 

When you F%@# up

I f@#$ed something up at work, which is embarassing and frustrating. I pointed it out to my boss on Friday and thought about it all weekend. This morning my boss called me into her office to talk about it. She didn't have to say much to kick it off. As soon as I realized what she wanted to talk about I got really chatty, squirrely and over-apologetic. The truth is that I wanted out.

The Instinct to Be Decent to One Another

I have a few pet peeves. One of those is when people cut in line. I have lived in countries where old ladies will elbow you out of the way to get to the front of a line. 

Another peeve comes up when I see someone get on the metro who obviously needs a seat. Maybe the person is on crutches, but the seats are all taken by young and able people absorbed in their iPhones, so the person that needs a seat is forced to stand until someone speaks up.

Despite the way it sounds so far, this isn't meant to be a moralistic rant. I have been absorbed in thought and failed to open a door for a guy with his arms full of boxes, so I'm not always better. But when we touch into our basic humanity, we are better.

Putting Myself out There

I'm always freaking out about putting myself out there. I'll post something on Facebook and then an hour later, as I'm walking down the street, I'll think, "shit! I shouldn't have posted that thing on Facebook!" Then, a second later I'll get over it and move on with my life. When I was younger I was often paralyzed by the fear of putting myself out there, and I didn't even have to deal with social networking. Unfortunately, this doesn't necessarily get easier with age. A lot of people get better at avoiding potential embarrassment and pain by staying inside their nice warm cocoons. Maybe that's why adults suck at learning new languages. We always want to be right, sound smart and never suffer failure.

But my meditation teachers keep instructing me to put myself out there, and meditation has given me a lot of confidence to experiment and to fail. Putting yourself out there means making mistakes and often falling flat on your face, then getting up and saying, ok, that failed miserably, so I'll try it another way next time. It means being fearless in the face of failure, and resting in the knowledge that I'm not always going to get things right.

What it doesn't mean is acting like an asshole, giving constant unsolicited advice to all my friends or saying whatever I feel like to everybody. After all, the Buddha taught upaya, or "skillful means."

Putting yourself out there is a bit like learning a new language. You practice your set phrases and then you get to Mexico. You think you are picking up the language, but then you want to say something about an embarrassing moment, so you say, "estoy embarasado." Instead of saying what you meant, you tell everyone you are pregnant. You fall flat on your face, but you laugh it off with your new friends, assuming you've had some success practicing gentleness. Next time, you'll definitely get that word right, but if you didn't put yourself out there and try to communicate, you'd never learn Spanish.

Sometimes I still cringe a little when I'm putting myself out there. For example, this blog is an experiment in moving out of my comfort zone. I know and accept the fact that some people are going to read this and say, "whoa, he kind of went off the deep end with this meditation blog." I understand that not everyone is going to get it. By practicing gentleness towards myself, it is easier to imagine that others will cut me some slack as well.

So where does this fear of putting oneself out there come from? For starters, I'm thinking it comes from attachment to a self, an identity. I've experienced the loss of self in brief moments of awareness, but to live constantly in the knowledge that the self is illusory, is not something I have achieved or that I really fully understand. Since I grew up in the self affirming punk scene, Noah Levine's words really resonated with me when he said, "you have a personality, it comes through, it's conditioned, it's completely part of you. It's not your true identity." Being part of the punk scene was empowering. It was by developing this hard-core, counter cultural identity that I put on my armor and found a way to get around in society. I felt like I had a place in the world and that there was something special about me and my friends. There was a time when I was terrified to let that identity go. It gave me all my power, but later I realized that I could get a lot more done by relaxing my grip on that identity a little bit.

To start putting yourself out there you have to get a taste of fearlessness, which is not so different from equanimity. But to learn fearlessness, you have to start with gentleness. And to learn gentleness, you have to learn to be gentle to yourself first. Gentleness is one of the first things you learn about when you study meditation. It's an ongoing process, not something that you ever graduate from. I expect that the same goes for putting yourself out there. It is a practice and a process, not something we graduate from.

Contemplating Impermanence from my Hotel Room in Phnom Penh

I’m sitting on the back patio of my hotel room in Phnom Penh, contemplating impermanence. My time sitting on this cushion will soon come to an end. My time in this beautiful hotel room (with a private dipping pool - what?!?!?) will come to an end; I will move to a new hotel room (will it be as good?). My time in Cambodia will come to an end and maybe I'll return home safely. My time with my beloved fiancé will come to an end. She’ll become my wife, but my time with my wife will some day come to an end (and it will definitely end in heartbreak), and my time on earth will surely come to an end.

This is a heavy contemplation before 7am, suffering jet lag and adjusting to the sweltering heat of Cambodia, but contemplating impermanence has been a rewarding practice. Through the contemplation of impermanence, I aspire to rest in the truth that all compounded[i] things are impermanent. By resting in this knowledge, I cultivate fearlessness in the face of change.

By facing some of the most difficult truths in life, you start to relax into the realization that everything is impermanent. At the end of this contemplation I stop and realize that my chest has tightened. My heart is beating a little faster (cool, I can feel my heart beat!). I recognize the fear of these truths and the discomfort it causes. I acknowledge this fear, drop the words, and hold onto this feeling. I let it sit and I experience the physical sensations. Then I drop the practice and return to my life.

I was listening to a podcast by Noah Levine of Dharma Punx the other day and he was talking about how he met this person who said, "I've been studying Buddhism lately, but man, what a bummer!" (My dad says the same thing once in a while). A student of the Dharma might argue that contemplating the truth of reality is important and that this philosophy attempts to cut right through the fear and bullshit, resting in all of the hard truths, even if it leaves us squirming sometimes. What was it that Nietzche said? "That which does not kill us only makes us stronger," or some Conan the Barbarian tidbit like that... But that would only be half of the story. The thing that people often fail to realize when hearing about the teachings on impermanence is that great joy and peace can come out of a contemplation like this. Once I realize that my time walking the earth is impermanent, and once this knowledge sinks deep into my bones, I will slowly learn to appreciate every moment, every movement, every shadow, every word and every rumble from the motor bikes outside my hotel window. I won’t be taking my fiancé or my mom or my dad or my friends for granted, at least not as often as I otherwise would. I won’t be taking myself and my health or the job I love for granted, because I know these things will end. My aspiration is to learn to appreciate every fleeting moment that passes. Those moments of awareness are like a bird swooping in overhead to see what is going on, before mysteriously disappearing back into the sky.

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[i] Pretty much everything we deal with on the day to day level is a compounded thing, as the Buddha taught. Things come about as an aggregate of many factors. For example, this cup of tea I am drinking is the product of sunlight and fertile soil and water for growing the tea leaves. The cup contains water that had to be heated by a person for it to brew. Some stranger picked these tea leaves in India, and then a truck took it to an airport before someone flew it here. That required gasoline, someone to build the truck, roads, etc., etc. etc. There is a teaching on interdependence embedded in there too.