WHAT IF FIGHTING FEEDS IT? The story of Milarepa and the demons.
When we encounter something unpleasant, our instinct is to change it. Anxiety? Stop it. Anger? Get rid of it. Grief? Get through it. Fear? Conquer it. Sadness? Cheer up. Troubling thoughts? Stop thinking about them. But what if those efforts sometimes make things worse?There is an old story about the sage Milarepa. After gathering firewood, he returned to find his cave full of demons. First, he tried to shoo them away. Then he fought them and attempted to teach them the Dharma, but nothing worked. It sounds as though he needed an exterminator—or at least a better demon-removal strategy.Frustrated, Milarepa tried again and again to fight, chase, and beg the demons to leave. Still, nothing worked. Finally, he simply accepted that they were there, and, as if by magic, many of them disappeared. One remained: a huge, terrifying demon with enormous teeth and a fierce presence. Milarepa placed his head inside its mouth, allowing it to do whatever it would. Then, in a flash, it disappeared too.So, is the lesson simply accepting everything? No. I have often assumed that if something was painful, frightening, embarrassing, disturbing, or otherwise a problem, my task was to make it go away. Sometimes, however, that effort feeds the very thing I am trying to escape. As the old saying goes, “What we resist persists.”Another familiar idea is that “the obstacle is the path.” We may think, “This demon is keeping me from practicing. Once I get rid of it, I can finally practice deeply.” Yet dealing with the demon may be the practice itself. Eventually, we may realize that the struggle to eliminate it is part of what keeps it alive.I have often thought that practice was something I could begin after dealing with whatever was “interfering” with my progress. I applied this thinking to noisy neighbors, difficult people, anxiety, anger, grief, pain, and restlessness. I assumed that once I got past these distractions, I could finally practice. The important distinction I discovered was that meeting those distractions was the practice.For example, I recently had surgery, and my sleep schedule became badly disrupted during recovery. I would wake up at 1:30 a.m. and remain awake for a long time. I fought it, telling myself, “I have to sleep because that is when healing happens.” Yet there I would lie, completely awake. When I noticed myself thinking, I would command, “Stop thinking! Stop thinking!” That was my demon.Once I relaxed and stopped fighting so hard, I realized that I could simply rest instead of forcing myself to sleep. Soon, I would drift back to sleep on my own.There is an important distinction here: acceptance does not mean helplessness. It does not mean tolerating harm, ignoring danger, or refusing to act. Instead, it may require changing our idea of the problem, especially when the experience is already happening and we are in the middle of fighting it.I often look to Buddhism for better ways to get rid of my demons. Sometimes its answer is simply, “Sit. Here is a cushion.”The questions to ask are: What am I fighting right now? Does it need to be fought? Am I making it stronger by resisting it? What might happen if, even for a moment, I gave up the struggle? Perhaps then I could glimpse a path toward release and acceptance.AT IF FIGHTING FEEDS IT? The story of Milarepa and the demons.
When we encounter something unpleasant, our instinct is to change it. Anxiety? Stop it. Anger? Get rid of it. Grief? Get through it. Fear? Conquer it. Sadness? Cheer up. Troubling thoughts? Stop thinking about them. But what if those efforts sometimes make things worse?
There is an old story about the sage Milarepa. After gathering firewood, he returned to find his cave full of demons. First, he tried to shoo them away. Then he fought them and attempted to teach them the Dharma, but nothing worked. It sounds as though he needed an exterminator—or at least a better demon-removal strategy.
Frustrated, Milarepa tried again and again to fight, chase, and beg the demons to leave. Still, nothing worked. Finally, he simply accepted that they were there, and, as if by magic, many of them disappeared. One remained: a huge, terrifying demon with enormous teeth and a fierce presence. Milarepa placed his head inside its mouth, allowing it to do whatever it would. Then, in a flash, it disappeared too.
So, is the lesson simply accepting everything? No. I have often assumed that if something was painful, frightening, embarrassing, disturbing, or otherwise a problem, my task was to make it go away. Sometimes, however, that effort feeds the very thing I am trying to escape. As the old saying goes, “What we resist persists.”
Another familiar idea is that “the obstacle is the path.” We may think, “This demon is keeping me from practicing. Once I get rid of it, I can finally practice deeply.” Yet dealing with the demon may be the practice itself. Eventually, we may realize that the struggle to eliminate it is part of what keeps it alive.
I have often thought that practice was something I could begin after dealing with whatever was “interfering” with my progress. I applied this thinking to noisy neighbors, difficult people, anxiety, anger, grief, pain, and restlessness. I assumed that once I got past these distractions, I could finally practice. The important distinction I discovered was that meeting those distractions was the practice.
For example, I recently had surgery, and my sleep schedule became badly disrupted during recovery. I would wake up at 1:30 a.m. and remain awake for a long time. I fought it, telling myself, “I have to sleep because that is when healing happens.” Yet there I would lie, completely awake. When I noticed myself thinking, I would command, “Stop thinking! Stop thinking!” That was my demon.
Once I relaxed and stopped fighting so hard, I realized that I could simply rest instead of forcing myself to sleep. Soon, I would drift back to sleep on my own.
There is an important distinction here: acceptance does not mean helplessness. It does not mean tolerating harm, ignoring danger, or refusing to act. Instead, it may require changing our idea of the problem, especially when the experience is already happening and we are in the middle of fighting it.
A more important distinction is this. If your demon is addiction, 'invite the demon in' does not mean invite the addiciton back into your life. Not surrendering to a craving, we can still see maybe the demon isn't the addiction at all. It is what happens to us, inside us when the addiction starts calling. The craving, fear, loneliness. The little voice says, 'just this once' and you can still just not partake. That is powerful. Remember as Milarepa tries to get rid of the demons he becomes increasingly forceful, they become more stuck and stubborn. He does not give up and let them have run of the place just like you don't have to give up and let the craving take you. Once you get to the point where you can really be with the idea that 'there IS craving'. And to boot, don't think of the demons as the addiction, it is what you are trying to 'treat' (loneliness, fear, frustration etc) that is the demon.
I often look to Buddhism for better ways to get rid of my demons. Sometimes its answer is simply, “Sit. Here is a cushion.” I don't need to solve anything, just be with the feeling, the demon and it soon fades.
The questions to ask are: What am I fighting right now? Does it need to be fought? Am I making it stronger by resisting it? What might happen if, even for a moment, I gave up the struggle? Perhaps then I could glimpse a path toward release and acceptance.
No comments:
Post a Comment