I mentioned in an earlier post that, along with the people who had formally signed up for the practice period, I had set an intent- to “let go”- for the next 90 days of practice. Tonight, I show up at Young Urban Zen and what do we read about? We read about the importance of not setting goals, of not doing things with a purpose in mind, of not striving for some awakening or to be some better person.
My first response was disappointment in myself for, yet again, not getting it. I shook my head and kind of laughed at myself for looking at my day through the lens of my intent, for evaluating my practice within the confines of this intent, and for my false sense of success/ failure based on this intent. But then, I was kind of frustrated. Because, seriously, the ABBOT of the zen center actually ASKED everyone to come up with an INTENT for the PRACTICE PERIOD, so how do I have an intent if I’m not supposed to set a goal?
And I think this frustration was shared by many people at YUZ that night- not a frustration with the abbot, but with this apparent hypocrisy of being asked to “be a Buddha” but “have no goal.” We read all these texts and admonitions about how to live, we’re asked to reflect upon our practice and whether or not it cultivates good, and all this is set up within this greater goal of being “boddhisatvas,” people who bring awakening to others. So, how are we supposed to try to be these things without trying to be these things?
For me, what clarified things, was the difference between trying and getting there. I think that when you set a goal, you start to imagine a fixed thing, you see an end, or even an identity or definition of something. And once you have that goal, and value it, you start to experience yourself in relation to that fixed thing. You compare your actions to that thing, you define things as “meeting my goal” or “not meeting my goal.” And this immediately narrows your experience. Instead of being present to everything around you and seeing it for what it is, you categorize your actions in relation to the goal and miss out on all kinds of things that actually might totally be meeting your “goal” but you don’t see them because they don’t fit within your definition of the goal.
The other side of this is trying. And I think trying is doing things with a consciousness about what you’re doing, but with an openness and an awareness that you have no idea what’s coming next and that as things change, you’ll just keep trying. You still have an image in your mind, you have an intent, you reflect upon your actions in relation to that intent but you don’t judge them or define them based on this intent. You continue to be open to what comes your way and respond to things with the intent in mind but without it limiting, narrowing, or defining your experience.
It’s funny, because within our culture I think that “trying” seems kind of wimpy, like a cop out, like an “oh well, at least I tried.” It can even seem flaky or not committed. But after tonight, trying feels like an even bigger commitment to me. If I’m just trying to do something, without some goal in mind, I’m actually in it for the long haul. I’m going to try, and then try some more, and constantly work at it, respond to it, change as it changes and keep at it because it’s an intent, not a goal.
Love this (and so many more) of the posts . . . but I never get around to commenting!
ReplyDeleteThis post reminds me of a moment in Saturday Sangha. I was in the kitchen (a real stretch for me), chopping. I was completely consumed with, one the one hand, worrying that it was obvious I barely know which end of the knife to hold, and on the other hand trying to let go of that, to be aware of what others and I wee actually doing . . .
Then the bell rings to end the work. I'm almost done with my pile of carrots, and keep going, really wanting to finish. Bob, in a wonderfully friendly way, points out that stopping the moment the bell rings is a practice of non-attachment (and then he helped me finish the pile really quick).
Since then, I have noticed that I usually don't bring myself finish when the bell rings. Even when I know what I'm doing, have nothing to prove (e.g., doing dishes), and have (I thought) been focused on the moment (the dish in my hands) and not the future (the pile of more dishes). Bell rings, and I immediately feel myself grasping for something (finish the pile, etc.).
It's a wonderful moment for me to feel the difference between do-ing in the moment and me having some goal I want to achieve and be proud of . . .
Cheers --
--Chris.