Slogan Twelve

Drive all blames into one.

From the Lojong for the Layperson booklet:

            Ordinary minds will always try to shift responsibility for mishaps to someone or something else. But this slogan suggests we stop guarding ourselves through attempts to shift the guilt elsewhere. Instead of aggressively pointing fingers, we should look within at the self-centeredness of our egos – the principle cause of our pain. Situations or people may provide the momentary circumstance of the problem, but it is the self-consumed ego that creates the suffering. This slogan does not mean we should not try to solve problems or stop injustices. But before we start blaming another, we should question what role we have played and how our views exacerbate the difficulty.

Photo: Water pooled in recess of large limestone rock.

            After a summer hail storm, we had to have our roof replaced. In just a few days’ time, the shingles and tar paper had been taken off and replaced with new. As the crew began to gather their tools and leave, I noticed an older man with a magnetic device sweeping the yard for roofing nails. Now this fellow wasn't one of the guys who had been on the roof, so he couldn't have dropped any of those nails. Yet he was aware that a person or pet might step on one and get hurt, therefore he was motivated to find and remove them. I need to be just as mindful with my emotions. It’s normal to feel angry about an injustice or injury, but what happens when that anger becomes a chronic condition? Such ongoing resentment causes me to suffer and spreads the hurt out to other people (some who may not even be connected to the situation). I don’t need to excuse another person’s bad behavior, but my bitterness won’t make things any better. As the Dhammapada says, “Hatred does not cease by hatred.” Holding on to my resentment and the story around it is the role I've played; if I take responsibility, I can ease my suffering.

Slogan Eleven

Transform all mishaps into the path of Bodhi (awakening).

            Because we live in a physical world, it is natural and inevitable that bad things will happen. Our habitual, mental response to such misfortunes is shaped by past thoughts and actions. But Norman Fischer assures us, “The way you spontaneously react in times of trouble is not fixed.” It is not necessary to see ourselves as victims, to blame other people or to let our egos convince us our views are “truth.” Instead, we can realize adversity is universal and not personal. We remember the slogans, practice patience, and understand our feelings are quite normal. We can be present with our emotions, responding to them with fortitude, courage and openness – thus changing our habitual patterns.

Photo: Quartz cluster between green sycamore and brown sweetgum seed balls.

            Awhile back I decided to cut down some dead tree trunks, because I was afraid they might fall and damage our car or roof. They were right next to a chain-link fence which made things a little tricky – I wanted them to land in the driveway but not on the roof or fence. The first trunk landed perfectly, and I cut it in small pieces to haul off. The second trunk took an unexpected twist on the way down and flattened the fence. It was so heavy I couldn't even budge it. As I cut it up in order to get it off the fence, the chain came off the chainsaw. Try as I might, I couldn't get the chain back on. But then I thought, “I’ll just use the ax.” On the second swing with the ax, the wooden handle split down the middle and sent the ax head flying. At that moment, I felt as it the universe had purposefully decided to torment me. Of course everyone has days like these, some much worse than this one, but when they happen to us it feels like we are personally being singled out. The Buddha was once met by a woman whose infant had died. She begged and pleaded with him to bring the baby back to life. The Buddha told her to go into the village and find one family who had not been touched by death; if she could, he would restore her child. Obviously she found no one, and she realized the Buddha was trying to gently teach her that she wasn't being punished – everyone has such hardships. Things break and wear out as do people; spring and summer turn to fall and winter. It’s a natural and universal part of life, but it’s not personal.

Slogan Ten

Begin the sequence of sending and taking with yourself.

From the Lojong for the Layperson booklet:

            To be able to sit with the suffering of another person, we must first be willing to accept our own. When we can experience our pain without disengaging, we will then deeply comprehend the pain of others. Without the push of resistance, we acknowledge all of our own anguish, from physical suffering to emotional despair.  Using tonglen, we breathe out kindness, serenity and healing to ourselves. We eventually expand this receptiveness to include the suffering of all others. This slogan is not an attempt to perfect ourselves before extending compassion to others. As Pema Chodron states, “Start where you are.”

Photo: Green cherry laurel leaves and red tip photinia leaves with stone on cracked, dried mud.

            I've had discussions with friends and acquaintances who believe Buddhist teachings turn a person into a doormat with “martyr” stamped across it. But the tenth slogan suggests just the opposite is true. As neuropsychologist Rick Hanson put it, “Kindness to you is kindness to me; kindness to me is kindness to you.” When my daughter was in elementary school, she received a birthday invitation for a party held at the local roller skating rink. She had never skated before, but I had enjoyed it as a teenager. I figured I would lace up some skates and help her as she learned. The problem with that line of logic was I hadn't skated in 25 years. When I got out on the rink floor, I felt like I had no traction or balance. If I had tried to help her, we would have both ended up on our bums. Starting with myself – being gentle, compassionate and kind – helps me gain clarity. I begin to understand what appropriate kindness looks like, so my motivation to help others isn't based on selfish, manipulative desires. This type of balance is beneficial for everyone. 

Slogan Nine

In all activities, train with the slogans.

From the Lojong for the Layperson booklet:

            If we were to cross a field every day, we would tramp down the weeds and eventually create a well-worn path. The slogans help us create a new path by thinking differently. When we study and memorize the slogans, they steer our minds in a new direction.  We will find that no matter what situation arises, the memory of an appropriate slogan will come to mind. Their purpose is not to help us escape from life’s hassles or make all our troubles disappear, but to aid us in working with the challenges we face. The slogans increase our capacity for loving-kindness and decrease our self-absorption. We learn to break out of our habitual pattern of reacting in self-centered ways.

Photo: Fifty-nine different types of tumbled stones.

            What we do, see or hear frequently becomes familiar. As an example, check out these advertising taglines and see if you can connect each one to the product or company it represents:

• ·         Just do it.
• ·         Melts in your mouth, not in your hands.
• ·         Can you hear me now?!
• ·         Don’t leave home without it.
• ·         It keeps going, and going and going…
• ·         Good to the last drop.
• ·         Plop plop, fizz fizz, oh what a relief it is.
• ·         Nothin’ says lovin’ like something from the oven.
• ·         Where do you want to go today?
• ·         Live in your world, play in ours.
• ·         Once you pop, you can’t stop.
• ·         Snap, crackle, pop.

My apologies to readers who aren’t in the States as some of these catchphrases may not be recognizable to you (but I bet you could easily come up with your own list). When I make the slogans a part of my daily spiritual practice, they have a way of popping in my head just when I need them.

(Answers: Nike, M&Ms, Verizon, American Express, Energizer Batteries, Maxwell House Coffee, Alka Seltzer, Pillsbury, Microsoft, Sony Playstation, Pringles Potato Chips, Rice Krispies Cereal) 

Slogan Eight

Three objects, three poisons, three seeds of virtue.

From the Lojong for the Layperson booklet:

            Humans naturally categorize things as a method of survival, labeling some objects as beneficial and others as dangerous. But this slogan cautions us that labels may take on a life of their own. Judy Lief elucidates: “They change from being simple observations of a current situation or interaction to become unchanging definitions of the way things are. They become the world according to us.”  If we crave something, it becomes an object of attachment. If it is something we want to avoid, it becomes an object of aversion. If we could care less either way, it becomes an object of indifference. Each of these objects produces a reaction (poison) – desire, revulsion or ignorance – which leaves us feeling unhappy or desperate. But instead of blaming the object, we can take responsibility for our emotional reactions and see them as our own creation. We can realize they make our world very small instead of spacious. We breathe in and transform the “poisons.” As we breathe out, they are reformed as the seeds of virtue.

Photo: Three types of nuts, leaves and blooms on a sycamore leaf.

            I love gardenia bushes, and I've tried on multiple occasions to grow them in my yard. Unfortunately, they like moist, well-drained soil, and I live in an area where drought occurs and the soil is compacted clay. It’s similar to trying to grow something from a brick. On the other hand, I have poison ivy galore. Weed killers and pulling plants by hand are useless; the birds love the berries and just plant more. I would be quite an unhappy gardener if this was where all my energy was focused. In addition, my yard has nondescript plants like the tea olive with an unimpressive, scraggly appearance. Yet if I attend to its nearly imperceptible flowers in the fall and spring, I’ll be rewarded with a fragrance even more delightful than the gardenia’s bloom. Recently it dawned on me that indifference is quite different from detachment. It involves labeling something as so insignificant and useless, that I don’t consider it worth my attention. That kind of poison is worse than Roundup. It will keep the seeds of compassion from ever sprouting.   

Slogan Seven

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.

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

Slogan Six

In post-meditation, be a child of illusion.

From the Lojong for the Layperson booklet:

            Shortly after our meditation, we can easily slide back into habitual patterns. But this slogan encourages us to continue to look at the world with fresh eyes rather than fixed ideas. A young child has little experience in the world, and so he sees with eyes of wonder. Our perceptions are based on our presumptions – “this” is like “that,” therefore I should like/dislike it. We become tangled in hope or fear based on a notion from a past incident instead of being present in the here and now. Yet nothing is solid and fixed; everything is continually changing. If we find ourselves waiting in a long line at the bank, we might think “this frustration is going to last forever.” But what happens if we de-familiarize ourselves from the scene? We might take notice of a nearby toddler who is grinning shyly at us. We may hear an unfamiliar noise coming from outside. As we pay attention to each moment that unfolds and shifts around us, we’ll stop worrying about the long line. We will have become a child of illusion.

Photo: Bubble floating above nandina (heavenly bamboo) shrubs.

       As a kid I loved optical illusions, those images that trick our mind into believing something that may not be real. I recently ran across one I hadn't seen before called the Checker Shadow Illusion.  I was so sure what I saw was truth (that the squares weren't the same color), I copied the image into Paint, cut out a section from each square, and then pasted them into a Word document for comparison. Lo and behold, they were the same shade of gray! Of course I wondered if maybe there was something off with my computer monitor. Yet the exercise turned out to be a good example of my preference as an adult for something solid and predictable rather than something indefinite and changeable. Nevertheless, if I can relax and observe - without being in strategy mode, without trying to quantify and label everything - my mind will open to a fresh view of life. And my inner kid would tell me there's a lot more joy in seeing from this perspective.