Desire, like sex, is something people make themselves uncomfortable over. Many people are scared of their feelings—of what’s going on just under the surface. We tremble a bit—such is the power of our desire.

Epstein describes Buddhism’s ‘right hand path’ as the path of the ascetic — on this path, the solution to life’s drama is renunciation. This is the idea that desire leads to trouble, and the only way to avoid trouble is to repress it, fight it, ignore it, or meditate it to death.

Buddhism’s ‘left-hand path’ is Tantra — on this path, the things our bodies experience become the tools of awakening. Desire becomes the energy for action leading to transformation.

If you think about it, that’s how we actually use the word.

Desire is the feeling that lies in the gap between what we have and what we want. Desire is the emotional or vibrational pull toward change. Desire is the burning drive to bring something new into being.

Desire is dynamic

The problems come when we forget that desire is dynamic. It’s a driving force.

As we desire, we are driven to make, to create, to merge, to enact. In other words, desire at its best causes us to move forward; it empowers new realities.

Things go off the rails when we attempt to possess [cling to] what we desire. To lock it down, own it, marry it, make it “ours”.

The paradox is that desire want us to get turned on enough that we actually do something with our lives, but the feeling of desire is chargy, and therefore addicting. So, rather than acting and moving on, many attempt to maintain the feeling of desire by possessing the “object of desire”. It’s confusing the feeling with the external object.

Clinging is all about trying to freeze something dynamic — trying to make it “hold still.”

Epstein writes:

“But this kind of satisfaction is impossible because the qualities that we project onto the desired object—of permanence, stability or “thingness”—do not really exist… The disparity between the way we perceive things and the way they actually are is at the root of our struggle with desire. Once we learn to make that disparity part of our experience, however, desire can be a teacher rather than an affliction.” [p 69]

Plagued by clinging

Most of the people I work with are plagued by their clinging.

They are looking for the perfect partner. They are looking for the perfect life, the perfect career, the perfect mind-set. But perfect is a static list of characteristics, and ignores the dynamic nature of life.

My clients tell me they want to be happy. As if there is a permanent state called happiness that someone, with effort, could cling to all the time, despite the reality that all of life is change.

I want to loosen their fingers from the death-grip they have on the object[s] of their desire, so that they can accept the paradox of their desire—you can never hold on to anything, including your illusions.

Buddha on desires

The Buddha said, in the first of the Four Noble Ideas, that “life is dukkha.” Epstein writes that the Sanskrit dukkha, [the word usually translated suffering] actually means something closer to “pervasive unsatisfactoriness.”

An example of dukkha is a potter’s wheel that is off-balance, and therefore always squeaks, annoyingly. Neat, eh? When you are miserable, isn’t that what life feels like? It’s not quite right, annoying, irritating, anger-provoking.

And then, the Buddha said [The Second Noble Idea] that the cause of dukkha was attachment to desire, which is better defined as grasping or clinging to desire. Thus, it is not the desire—the feeling—that gets us. It’s our endless demands for more of what we want, less of what we don’t want. It’s our ignorance—our clinging to our confused mental picture of the object of our desire.

This confusion is captured in the song title, “Hooked on a Feeling.” [B J THOMAS]

Note the lyric, “I’m high on believing that you’re in love with me.” The person is hooked on the feeling of believing, and none of that is external—it’s not about the other person. It’s a mind game—the writer is turned on by his own feelings!

Why suffering happens

Suffering happens as we try to freeze reality.

We feel the heat of desire and passion, and addict ourselves to the feeling. We look at the object of our desire [person, place, or thing] and instead of interacting with “the dynamic reality,” we go into our heads and create a story.

Our suffering comes from our attachment to our stories—our fixation with how we think things ought to be.

We then attempt to make the other person into the thing that we desire—into our very own “it.” We turn a dynamic person, for example, into a category, like “My husband” or “My wife.” We then fixate on our story about “how a wife ought to be” [for example] and make ourselves miserable when the “object of our desire” doesn’t match the fixed story.

People do this to avoid the hard work of relating to an ever-changing reality. And they despair [or change partners] when they realise the futility of this form of clinging, which doesn’t stop them from playing the same game with the next desirable object! The only way out is to find a way to stop clinging.

The Two Paths

The ‘right hand path’ suggests dealing with this tension and pain by rejecting or renouncing desire.

The ‘left hand path,’ being open to desire, is to accept it, respect it, and use it to work with the reality of dynamic living.

Passion, without grasping, is a way to open ourselves to encountering the other person as a real, dynamic human being.

This type of relating is an internal decision to

• be passionately engaged in an exploration of the gap that exists between myself and another.
• explore the gap between another and my perception of another.
• acknowledge that I can only know “of” another—and that my knowing is more about me than about another.

So, how do we open up to desire, after all?

Oddly, it’s as simple as acceptance. I accept that nothing stays the same, and that there is always a gap [and therefore a tension] between what is and what I desire. I use this tension to relax into being comfortable with my discomfort.

As I find the comfort of desire, as opposed to the pain of clinging, I can choose, moment by moment, to be in an intimate, flowing relationship with all of life.

Meditate on this: I am who I am, and my desire is a part of that. If I observe my desire as opposed to clinging to it, the desire will lead me to notice what I am doing, and allow me to step away from clinging to simply ‘being in the moment.’

Life is an endless tension between what is and what we desire. That is the nature of life.

The way to work with the tension is to simply be present with it in a non-grasping way.

Once I see that life is as it is, I can learn to be in my life, as opposed to trying and failing endlessly, to fix it.

Once I stop playing god, in other words, I can simply be me.

Like I have another choice…

The post Understanding and opening up to desire appeared first on Complete Wellbeing.

Thay, as he is fondly called, also tells you how suffering can teach us important lessons and why compassion is a better form of energy than anger. At one point, he emphasises the importance of deep listening to wipe out terrorism, an idea that resonates deeply. Finally, he shares four mantras that can transform every relationship into pure bliss.

The post Watch Thich Nhat Hanh share life-changing insights with Oprah Winfrey appeared first on Complete Wellbeing.

Zen has no goal, other than to be present for life, it teaches us to show up for the real thing—the actual experience, devoid of embellishments. Being present means fewer accidents, more engagement, and a real life as opposed to an imagined one.

Here are some ideas for you, on ways to live a simple Zen life.

Meditate

Buddhism changed drastically when it got to Japan. Zen master Dogen—founder of the Soto school—got his hands on it, and declared, “Shikantaza!” In other words, there is no need to search for enlightenment—it’s right here, right now—and best “felt” through zazen [seated meditation.]

So, the key to Zen living is carving out 20 minutes a day [or more] to just sit. We do not sit to accomplish something, nor are we merely putting in time. We sit, and in the sitting, find the present moment.

It’s not even about clearing your mind, because then having a clear mind becomes the goal. Rather, just sit, breathe, and watch yourself. Thoughts will arise, and if you let them be, they’ll drift along like clouds. If you latch on, you’ll drift into imagining. Then, as you notice, come back to just sitting.

Sit with a sense to challenge yourself. The only thing you have to work with is your life—or more specifically, the issues you confront. Have an intent to be ‘right here’ for all of it.

Zen living: Breathe, observe, drop the need to label or judge—just see each thing as one more thing—one more way to bring yourself into the Now.

Free your mind

Letting go of your mind’s dominance is the most difficult part of the Zen pathless path. The mind is sticky and slippery, and much of what it does is about maintaining the story you tell yourself.

Stories are the currency of the mind. We think we know who we are, and believe our own press releases about how the world is. Yet, there is nothing true about any of the stories you tell yourself. Out of all of it—out of everything that has happened—we choose specific scenes, string them together, and call the result “my life.” These story-selections are nothing other than what you’ve chosen to believe to support your preconceived notions.

Zen living: Know that things are as they are, until they aren’t. Freeing your mind really means freeing yourself from your mind’s grip. Life is as it is, and telling yourself stories about how really bad it all is, does nothing to help you deal with reality. As you let go of the story-telling, you simply make choices, act, and evaluate, then act again. Once your mind is freed to be present with “what is,” the rest just follows.

As you bring yourself, again and again, into presence, you see that mostly there is not much going on, and precious little to do, other than to just be there for your life. The drama falls away, and in its place is time—time to fully engage with life.

Take time to experience

Stepping back from the mind’s chatter can be quite disconcerting. Without all of that distracting noise, what’s left is sensation—the flow of Qi, the life-force. This can be anything from startling or scary to boring or interesting.

As you meditate, you open yourself to the endless flow of sensation. You suddenly hear, and see, and feel, and in this process, you come into the actual experience of yourself. Now, most of the time, your mind will pop in and start judging, labelling, or complaining. “Here’s what you ought to be doing, feeling, thinking!” And away you go [again] from the experience to the mental games.

Zen living: Use your breath to bring yourself back into your body as you feel and hear and see. Experience your feelings completely, and then… wait for it… go with the flow to the next thing.

If you find yourself reluctant to fully immerse yourself into the flow and feel of life, have another breath, and go with that. Soon, your tolerance for being fully alive and fully present will grow. You find yourself immersed in living as opposed to existing solely in your head.

Maintain a single focus

Multitasking is impossible. Watch yourself when you attempt it. What you are actually doing is turning your attention from one thing to another, rapidly. And, because changing your focus takes energy, nothing gets your full attention.

Zen living: Do one thing at a time. Bring your entire focus to what you are doing, and only stop when you reach a predetermined point of completion. Then, fully shift your attention. This is the meaning of the Zen expression, ‘Chop wood, carry water. Distraction is impossible if I am fully engaged with what is in front of me.

Speak only for yourself

Mostly, you use the pronoun “I,” recognising that all I can reliably talk about is what I am thinking, feeling, and doing.

Most people talk at people, and especially when things are wrong. Instead of saying, “You did this, you made me feel …” say “I feel that…” Meditation helps to see that the experience I am having is always and only about me. It’s honest to own what’s up for me.

Zen living: Speak only for yourself, by using “I think…”, “I imagine…”, “The story I’m telling myself…” and the like. Own your experience, and share it, as it’s all you can ever know.

Be grateful

Because of our endless mind-chatter, we view life through the ‘What’s in it for me?’ glasses—taking full credit for what we have, and casting full blame for what we hate. We miss the interconnectedness—how we are all in this together. Drop the ego, drop blaming, and express your gratitude for being a link in the chain of life.

Zen living: Awareness includes noticing that everything and everyone is a part of the same game. I only get to play because of you, and vice versa. For instance, just think of all of the people involved in putting food on your table.

Make no judgements

Our tendency is to judge. Something happens, and we label it as good or bad, right or wrong. We feel righteous in our finger pointing. But without action on our part, nothing changes.

The key is to realise that judgement itself is futile. If I say I believe in equality, for example, the real test is whether I treat everyone equally—and especially in situations that make me uncomfortable.

Zen living: You will label things until you die. But when in situations where you feel tempted to judge, notice and stop your mind for a moment, and then act in keeping with your feelings, interpretations, and intentions.

Most people say, “Isn’t it awful” and do nothing. Instead, say, “It is what it is,” then act to change what’s happening.

Be non-attached

Attachments are silly. They are based on the idea that you can grasp someone or something, and by the act of grasping, keep it the same, or ‘just keep it.’ We live with a belief that if all is going well, then the fantasy shouldn’t end. Guess what? It had already ended, and had to end, because nothing is static—all is in motion—all is change.

Zen living: Let go. Hold everything loosely. As you start to cling, have a breath and let go. It’s like trying to grasp the water of a fast-flowing stream, it’s impossible. And besides, attachments cause us to miss what’s happening right in front of us!

Don’t do it, be it

Zen living and being is not a new skill set to show-off. If you can’t figure out how to make time to meditate, I suggest think of your entire life as meditation. Different focus, different direction. Rather than having something more to do, Zen living becomes life itself.

Zen living: Live your life as an action that encompasses your entire being and essence. This is tricky, but it’s about a full, purposeful commitment to a way of being that includes thought, feeling and action. Take the other points, above, and see them as focusing points—ideas about what such being might look like, as you enact yourself in the here and now.

The post Living Zen: 9 ideas to help you ease into the Zen way of being appeared first on Complete Wellbeing.