our lives. “God” is just another way of speaking of the force of love that connects all things.
Throughout the past forty years, I have practiced the art of mindful listening in my meditation. My previous book, The Mindful Addict, is full of stories documenting many adventures ignited by guidance I discovered while listening within. Yes, most of the time it is monkey mind. Monkey mind is a Buddhist term meaning “unsettled; restless; whimsical; inconstant; confused; indecisive; uncontrollable.” The monkey jumps through the trees from one branch to the next; this is a metaphor for our thoughts as our mind jumps from one thought to the next. So when it is not monkey mind, it is important to follow your heart.
I ask any Buddhist who is not fully convinced about guidance or thinks it sounds too much like theism and the supreme-being gig to think about the Buddha as he sat under the tree and experienced his miraculous awakening. When he came up with the Four Noble Truths, where did they come from? Was this inspiration he received? I think so. And I call that divine guidance.
The divine comedy is that everything the ego entices us with is impermanent. The ego plays its part, convincing us and promising us great joy and fulfillment—if only we acquire a big bank account, a perfect marriage, a nice home, new cars, and more things. Impermanence is one of the many spiritual principles I embrace while working the Twelve Steps. As I move through my life I call on this principle many times, especially when my heart is broken by my unrealistic attachments.
In the act of observing what is, we learn the impermanence of thoughts and feelings that arise. By sitting and not attaching, we learn to wave goodbye to them. In experiencing the simple feeling of wanting to scratch the itch at the tip of our nose, but not doing so, we learn that by just noting the feeling, it soon disappears. Small lessons such as these soon advance us to larger challenges that appear in life. We find from experience that when we just be with all that is going on around us, without following our stories to a fantasized outcome, our feelings will change as we move on to the next moment. Life is always in transition. The only constant in life is change.
Embracing impermanence opens a door to our true nature. A feeling of bliss and joy can arise from deep within us for no apparent reason. In this awakening, we realize that true joy has always been who we are, and that all the outer things we cling to, such as people, places, and things, have always been impermanent. Clinging to the material world can only produce a temporary happiness that leads to despair as our outer world changes.
We must also be conscious that even clinging to the idea of enlightenment is another parlor trick of the ego. Enlightenment is also like our lives: an unfurling process of experiences rather than a target we place in the crosshairs of our ever-desirous ego.
When the principle of impermanence becomes embedded deep within, the spiritual seeker notes the tribulations that have been caused by reaching for outer circumstances in seeking greater fulfillment. This clinging ultimately ends with joy, contentment, and security slipping from our grasp. The spiritual path leads us all to times of being stripped of almost everything. To experience impermanence at this level is a sort of baptism, which alone drives one to practice, knowing the path to lasting joy is moving through life with mindfulness.
In Tibetan Buddhism, they have a ritual that honors impermanence. Several monks work on a sand painting that consists of different-colored grains of sand. They create beautiful mandalas, certainly works of art. Some can take weeks to create, with many monks working simultaneously. When the mandala is finished and enjoyed by others, they sweep it clean, destroying it completely. This is done to demonstrate impermanence.
Change makes all things possible. We hear it reinforced throughout the recovery programs that it is not change that causes pain, but rather our resistance to it. Whether we are addicts or not, we soon realize that we seem to be universally addicted to struggle and resistance. That is why surrender is the key that unlocks every path toward change in our lives, regardless of tradition, religion, lineage, or life philosophy. Suffering would never end if things didn’t change. The phrase This too shall pass hangs on the walls of many recovery meeting rooms throughout the world. The law of impermanence persuades and affects all things in life to change.
Equanimity has become my compass to guide me through life’s array of challenges. It protects me from my own denial system when I want to avoid unpleasant feelings and circumstances. It teaches me to accept praise and rejection equally, with the same attitude of gratitude. Equanimity enables me to observe and embrace anything that is in my life, and to do so without judgment, simply because it’s in my life.
When I had about thirteen years in recovery, I went through a divorce, and the pain of the separation broke my heart wide open. This, of course, turned out to be a gift. I started working the Twelve Steps again with a passion I hadn’t experienced before. The steps seemed more important and revealing than my first time working them. I found myself opening the door to life like never before. Somehow I knew I had to let go of judgment of whom I would let into my life and whom I wouldn’t. Everyone and everything became important. I began to let in whatever and whomever appeared.
My new mantra became “Maybe, maybe not.” The Christian mystic St. Francis of Assisi compelled us all to “wear the world as a loose garment, which touches us in a few places and there lightly.” Wearing life more loosely, in order to keep things simple as they appeared in my life, I became interested in seeing what was to be offered.
The dharma (teachings of the Buddha) has given us equanimity as our defense against suffering. All situations become opportunities to grow spiritually when attended to without judgment or labeling them as “good” or “bad.”
Most of us can recall these two words; we’ve been hearing them from the time we could first understand language. When we reflect back to early childhood and throughout our school days, this spoken phrase stands out. It is also a favorite of the military; the command to “Attention!” is sounded off many times a day.
I had no idea I was being called to spiritual practice in my early childhood. Surely my parents, teachers, and commanding officer had no idea they were uttering words that would be so significant in meditation practice.
Meditation is essentially sustained concentration, and if practiced, it gives us the ability to walk peacefully amid the adversities of life—just by paying attention. Mindfulness is practicing the art of paying attention to what is. Mindfulness seems to be a gentler way of saying “pay attention.” Being present for our every moment is an exercise we can all do. No experience necessary. On-the-job training provided. Start now!
I saw a segment on CNN that said we have become a nation on medication. Let’s become a nation on meditation. Let us become spiritual warriors and help ourselves and others to practice what we have been called on to do since childhood: pay attention and be mindful.
I greet the early-morning darkness with a yawn and, focusing only on the sacredness of the moment, I prepare myself for practice. When you wake each day, even without a regular meditation practice, take a few breaths with the sole intention of paying attention. Try a ten-minute practice. With twenty-four hours in each day, taking this short time to sit and be mindful of your breath can be a game changer.
The simplicity of breathing in and being with that breath, then breathing out and knowing you are doing so, is the portal into the present moment. Let the breath become a personal mantra; when your attention is on