I dear friend of mine, after reading my first retreat reflection asked me quite frankly, “so how will this affect others?” My first response to the question was one of slight annoyance. I think subtly I get frustrated at this question, because on the one hand, spiritual practice isn’t done in order to change anything. It’s done because there’s something fundamental and deeply vital, which needs to be resolved and one really has no choice but to resolve this nagging “problem.” One might describe the problem as, “suffering,” or “duality,” or perhaps even “sin.” It’s a problem that has to do with why things aren’t quite right, when it seems they should be. I’ve experienced some form of this nagging as far back as I can remember, and spiritual practice, to me, is about coming to understand this problem and its resolution completely. And it’s done, paradoxically, by coming to accept that everything is as it is. I know as an idea this is completely counter-intuitive. As I said, it is a paradox. But as a practioner, it makes total sense, and I’ve begun to see that nothing else will resolve this core problem.
So from one perspective, I see changing things, or the impulse behind wanting to see things be other then they are, as rooted in ignorance & delusion. But on the other hand, not making things different, not wanting things to get better for myself and others, is total foolishness. That’s why when the annoyance of the question settled, I realized that this is a deeply important question. At some level, I even get the sense that the fundamental crises of duality and the impulse to want to see things change are not so independent. But it would be too easy for me to talk about Compassion, and the way in which this amazing impersonal quivering of the heart unites emptiness & form, and resolves the issue altogether. Easy, but not honest. I’ve had momentary experiences of wanting to change, wanting to give to others, to hold other’s pain for them, which were very genuine, and seemingly disconnected with self-striving. But those make up probably only a percent of a percent of my actions. Maybe even less than that. Mostly, I’m acting from very self-centered intentions. I want my mom to take up spiritual practice, because then I’ll have someone to share my own amazing spiritual stories with, or I write an article on my blog so another person might see what a deep and caring person I am. My intentions are rooted in ignorance, desire, and aversion. There is no question. I’ve seen this clearly enough to become quite skeptical of my own intentions, and so when someone asks me, how my retreat is going to affect others, my response is this:
I can’t control how it will affect others. I can only notice self-striving and contraction in myself from moment-to-moment, and have faith that this will lead to liberation from this contraction, and that this liberation will benefit others.
But really, what I’ve seen through practice is that there’s no one to liberate, and no “I” who’s noticing the contraction, and hence no “others” to help, and that is the strangest thing. It’s all just happening, and there’s no one driving this bus. But all the same, this isn’t a permanent recognition, and this certainly hasn’t resolved my problem completely, it has only for short periods pointing out the obvious fact that there was no problem to begin with. As a friend of mine says, “The spiritual path is wrought with paradox.” How true.
