"A Cavern of Sorrow I Couldn't Find"

This is crazy to me: 

Blaise Pascal wrote in the mid-1600s that “All of humanity's problems stem from man's inability to sit quietly in a room alone.” He saw that people seek constant distraction to avoid dealing with their own internal vocalizations - of the mind and heart.

What were people possibly distracting themselves with back in the 1600s?! 

We are now in, my friends, the Age of Distraction. A device in our pocket that can access most of human knowledge and a near-infinite supply of entertainment.

Yet with all our information and entertainment, we’re still living our lives seeking distractions to avoid the quiet desperation within our hearts and minds. 

I was chatting with some friends recently, and one of them said this: “How can you drive when your radio is broken?! I’d go crazy!”

Do you need to have something playing? Music, tv, conversations with others?

Try turning it off. Try being with those uncomfortable parts.

This past weekend I supported a client on a spiritual retreat. He said this at one point:

“I went searching for a cavern of sorrow, and much to my surprise, I didn’t find it.”

The cavern that he feared was there in the corners of his being...it wasn’t actually there! For years he feared it was there, he thought it was there, it seemed like it was there. But when he took the time, in a safe space, to explore it and go deeper, it wasn’t actually there.

We create a world of problems and challenges by trying to avoid the simple act of being with ourselves.

The mind thinks it’s got an accurate perception of what’s so, but when we gently, courageously, and skillfully peel back that surface of thought, story, and illusion, we find that reality is often much kinder and more loving than we expect it to be.

The mind is doing its best to help guide us to success. It’s trying to help. It’s worrying and analyzing and judging for us, not to us. 

As my 16-year-old client said at the end of our call the other night: “My mind is wanting to help me.”

It is. It really is. 

Here's a priceless tip to being with the mind: be with it in a gentle, loving, compassionate, and understanding way. 

What I’ve found to be the most powerful way to settle a troubled mind is to begin by turning toward it, gently and kindly, saying:

“Thank you. Thank you for looking out for me. Thank you for trying to help. Thank you for doing everything you can to give us a better life. I’ve got this now. I can handle this. You can relax.”

Much Love. ❤️

Plans Aren't Enough

I burned the lesson plan.

I knew that if I walked into that room of 2nd graders feeling and thinking the way I was, even the best lesson plan wouldn’t go well.

I was feeling strained. My mind was fluttering with thoughts, my body was tense, and my heart nervous.

Then, I remembered the Truth: the lesson plans matter, but it’s the being of the teacher that makes the difference. 

As I walked to the classroom, I decided to burn my lesson plan.

For me, planning is an important part of teaching, but it's not teaching.

Planning is setting up the fire pit before friends come over. But it’s not the fire that brings passion, fun, and love present in the conversation: it’s the human beings participating in it. The fire is a condition that supports the conversation - it supports our being together.

Whenever I’m nervous about how a plan will go - in class, in transformational programs, in life - I’m living from my thinking and not from the ground of my being. Nervousness and strain are usually a reaction to fearful thinking. Presence, compassion, and vitality, however, are an authentic engagement with this moment.

It’s what a client of mine discovered this week: peace is the precondition for real happiness - access inner peace, and happiness, enjoyment, and love flow easily.

My 11th and 12th grade math teacher, Mr. McGrath - I don’t remember a single lesson he planned and taught us, but I remember who he was for us. Committed. Intentional. Holding us to a high standard of integrity and diligence. 

Plans are important, don’t get me wrong. But plans alone aren’t enough to cause what we're out to cause in our lives. Our authentic presence, our being, is the special sauce that adds meaningful, impactful, and memorable flavor to the work and activities of our lives.

This is mastery.

“You've got to learn your instrument. Then, you practice, practice, practice. And then, when you finally get up there on the bandstand, forget all that and just wail.”

- Charlie Parker, Jazz Saxophonist.

How Crappy Students Become My Best Teachers

Errrrrr! I was feeling impatient and frustrated!

I did NOT want to help this student out.

He missed class, he was often late, he was distracted during class, and he asked for help much later than he should have.

Besides, I had top students who also wanted my attention and assistance at that same moment. Those were the students I really wanted to be working with.

And I was annoyed with him and my duty to support him.

But the students who test my patience? They're not actually testing my patience: they're building it.

Every time I breathe out my frustration and relax my body around, beneath, and through any impatience, I build my patience. 

Impatience and frustration can be a gateway to deeper connection and peace of mind.

It’s one way my students become my teachers. My most challenging students are actually some of my biggest teachers.

The truth is, my impatience and frustration never come from anyone else. It's always born right here inside of me. That's why it's my responsibility to manage it.

There’s a selection from chapter 77 of the Tao Te Ching that I’ve been quoting recently:

“The Human Route:

Depriving the poor, 

Offering to the rich.”

Isn’t that what I’m doing when I want to turn from the struggling student and toward the more accomplished students? Depriving the poor, offering to the rich?

This is even trained into many of us in our family and educational structures: respect authority. What about our peers? What about the lowest among us?

Here’s what Jesus said that mirrors that Tao Te Ching lesson:

"Whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me." Matthew 25:40. 

This lesson applies in all contexts of our lives:

Teacher to students. 

Student to teachers.

Adult to children. 

Man to women, man to men.

Woman to men, woman to women.

And yes, to poor and rich too. (The largest companies in the world keep getting my money each month, but how much am I giving to the least of my brothers and sisters?)

It applies to ourselves too. Which of the parts of yourself do you shower with more care and pride? Which parts of yourself are you depriving of your care and pride?

And what’s one the most valuable gifts we can ever give? Our attention. Our listening. Our presence. Our compassion.

Giving these gifts is a practice. Practice practice practice. Most of us are crappy at it. With practice we can get better.

The path to heaven - whether for you it's a place or a state of being - is to expand our own awareness and treat the least of the world’s beings as if they were the Divine itself.

The universe doesn’t see hierarchy. It’s only through the filter of our interpretation and story that we see some beings as more important or valuable than others. That’s why this is such a powerful spiritual practice - to see the beauty, holiness, and goodness in all people, and to let go and move beyond those inner constraints within ourselves that keep us from seeing it.

A relevant verse from the Bhagavad Gita that I also read recently (chapter 5 verse 18): “The humble sages, by virtue of true knowledge, see with equal vision all beings, knowing that all beings are expressions of God.”

Much Love. ❤️