Sending and taking should
be practiced alternately. These two should ride the breath.
From the Lojong for the Layperson booklet:
“Sending and taking” refers to tonglen, a meditation that instills compassion. Norman Fischer defines compassion as “the willingness to feel pain with another, to feel another’s pain as one’s own.” Tonglen trains us to move toward rather than away from suffering; it teaches us that our pain is the same as that of other people. To practice, we visualize taking another’s suffering into ourselves as we inhale, perhaps feeling the air as hot and heavy or seeing it as dark and smoky. We pause, picturing the pain being converted into peace, healing and happiness. We breathe these wishes out to the person who suffers, imagining this breath as feeling light and cooling or appearing clear and radiant. Tonglen is also practiced with our own anguish; as we realize others feel this same pain, we extend our practice to include them. We are not harmed by the suffering we breathe in, but are transformed by it. It softens our hearts, making us more loving and kind.
“Sending and taking” refers to tonglen, a meditation that instills compassion. Norman Fischer defines compassion as “the willingness to feel pain with another, to feel another’s pain as one’s own.” Tonglen trains us to move toward rather than away from suffering; it teaches us that our pain is the same as that of other people. To practice, we visualize taking another’s suffering into ourselves as we inhale, perhaps feeling the air as hot and heavy or seeing it as dark and smoky. We pause, picturing the pain being converted into peace, healing and happiness. We breathe these wishes out to the person who suffers, imagining this breath as feeling light and cooling or appearing clear and radiant. Tonglen is also practiced with our own anguish; as we realize others feel this same pain, we extend our practice to include them. We are not harmed by the suffering we breathe in, but are transformed by it. It softens our hearts, making us more loving and kind.
Photo: Bare firethorn branch and azalea
branch between two stones and bounded by Boston
fern fronds.
Are you familiar with the TARDIS on the British
television show Doctor Who? From the
outside its size appears deceptively small, much like our hearts. The first
time I read about tonglen practice, my response was “Ugh, how awful!” I wish I
could blame my reaction on being brainwashed by the Law of Attraction movement,
but the reason went much deeper than that. I felt as if my emotional knapsack
was full to bursting. I was barely managing my own pain and had no room for
another person’s suffering. Buddhist wisdom nevertheless assures us that our
hearts are much more expansive than we may think. As I breathe in with the
longing to remove suffering and breathe out with the wish to send comfort and
relief, my self-absorption loosens and my compassionate side unlocks. I begin
to recognize my kinship and connection with all beings: everyone suffers. Like Seuss’s grumpy Grinch, I may suddenly discover
my heart has grown by three sizes.
Because suffering is impermanent, that is why we can transform it.
Because happiness is impermanent, that is why we have to nourish it.
~ Thich Nhat Hanh
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