Not-Self in the Park

bench-forest-trees-pathWalking slowly and evenly in the park, a bench along the sidewalk invites rest. Time to sit, but not to stop looking and seeking. And so the meditation continues.

A lady walks by with her dog, a boxer, a lovely animal. It pees in front of me and, while peeing, turns its head with a look of relief.

Another person, a man, older, walking slowly for a morning breath of fresh air, passes by me while I sit on the bench. As he walks by he raises his hand, extends a finger towards his cheek, and begins to scratch what might be a mosquito bite. As I sit and watch, I almost raise my hand and finger as if to scratch, perhaps my cheek, perhaps his cheek, perhaps the invisible cheek between us. But then I wake up: what is this urge to scratch a possible mosquito bite that isn’t affecting me?

And here is a small taste of not-self and self as they mutually inform experience. The man’s desire to scratch his cheek is his, not mine. And so I don’t enter into any relations with his desire to scratch. His desire is not-self to me. My morning desire to eat that affects me and urges me to food is mine, not his. I enter various relations with my hunger: sometimes I act on it, while at other times I wait it out. This desire is self to me and not-self to the man passing by.

And so how can I practice not-self to me? Easy – the answer is right there before our eyes with each passing person and with each of their passing desires, thoughts, and feelings. Just as the man’s desire to scratch is not-self to me, so too can my desire to eat be not-self to me if I practice it as such. Why practice it as something to engage and so as mine or self to me? Why not practice it as something that is not-mine, as something to watch, but not engage, just as I watch the man scratching his cheek?

And just as I practice self to my desires and not to others, why not practice self to others’ desires that are outside this body and mind? If a friend is hungry, then why not act on her hunger as if it were my own? Cook some food, take her out to eat, or wait it out; letting the situation guide, why not practice self to her desire to eat as I usually practice self to my desire to eat?

And why stop at the people we know? There is hunger, fear, and anger out there that is not in this body/mind – why not practice self towards those physical/mental states and work to relieve them as we would our own hunger, fear, and anger? If we do so, we are practicing not-self by practicing self beyond this very body/mind.

The practice of not-self is easy and not easy. It is negative (letting go) and positive (taking on beyond this body/mind). It is in this moment and enough to fill lifetimes of practice. So what better place to start than wherever and whenever you are?

 

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The Mindful Schools Two-Step: A Dangerous Path, but for Whom?

In a blog post for the Huffington Post’s Education section Candy Gunther Brown, PhD, suggests that secular mindfulness meditation practices in the public school system should be treated similarly to theistic prayer practices in the public schools. Insofar as those theistic practices are forbidden, so should the Buddhist practices, no matter the name by which you call them. I am deeply sympathetic to her suggestion, even though I myself am both a public school teacher and an ordained lay Dharma teacher. But Dr. Brown’s rhetoric around the matter is misleading, partly because the people promoting these secularized practices are themselves confused about what they are saying and doing.

To clear some of these muddy waters, let’s start with an analogy that we are all familiar with, whether we are Christian, Buddhist, Hindu, Satanist, Secularist, or Nihilist: walking. Most of us walk, some of us more than others, and some of us not all that much. Some of us not at all because of disabilities or other features of our bodies that push us to move in other ways, and I do not mean to exclude you from this conversation, so please substitute your method of travel for walking in the following discussion. For those of us that walk, the following should sound familiar.

Continue reading “The Mindful Schools Two-Step: A Dangerous Path, but for Whom?”