Dodging the Second Arrow

The other day, I found myself doing what I have been doing a lot of recently: sitting in traffic on the 110 Freeway in the heart of downtown L.A. On this particular afternoon, I was on my way to a video game development studio to deliver a seminar on meditation for stress reduction. (Ironically, they would not let me use the work "stress" in my description of this presentation because they do not want their employees to think that such a thing could exist in their studio.)

At 3:00, my cell phone rang and I recognized the number as my Human Resources contact. She asked when I thought I might be arriving, and I told her that I would be there in about 30 minutes, or so. Plenty of time, I said, since I wasn't scheduled to start until 4:00. She then informed me that I was actually supposed to begin at 3:00! My mind immediately took off in about six different directions, none of them positive or productive. Included in this mindstorm were such well-worn thoughts as "you idiot," "this is totally my fault," and that old favorite, "I'm a loser."

What I was experiencing, of course, were my habitual reactions to the information that my presentation was supposed to be starting right then, coupled with the fact that I was nowhere near my destination. In that moment, I was being hit by what the Buddha called the "second arrow," as he described in the Samyutta Nikaya:

When touched by a feeling of pain, the uninstructed run-of-the-mill person sorrows, grieves, and laments, beats his breast, becomes distraught. So he feels two pains, physical and mental. Just as if they were to shoot a man with an arrow and, right afterward, were to shoot him with another one, so that he would feel the pains of two arrows. In the same way, when touched with a feeling of pain, the uninstructed run-of-the-mill person sorrows, grieves, and laments, beats his breast, becomes distraught. So he feels two pains, physical and mental.

In the next few moments, however, I was able to right myself and see that everything in that moment was just fine, and that there was nothing I could do about the situation now except just keep pushing on. In fact, I received a call a few minutes later from my HR contact telling me that she was mistaken and the starting time actually was 4:00. I would be right on time. The moment of adjustment I just described was explained by the Buddha like this:

Now the well-instructed noble disciple, when touched with a feeling of pain, does not sorrow, grieve, or lament, does not beat his breast of become distraught. So he feels one pain: physical, but not mental. Just as if they were to shoot a man with an arrow and, right afterward, did not shoot him with another one, so that he would feel the pain of only one arrow. In the same way, when touched with a feeling of pain, the well-instructed noble disciple does not sorrow, grieve, or lament, does not beat his breast or become distraught. He feels one pain: physical, but not mental. (From "Sallatha Sutta: The Second Arrow" SN 36.6, translated from the Pali by Thanissaro Bhikkhu. Access to Insight, June 7, 2009.)

The obvious point of this (no pun intended) is that one pain is better than two pains. When faced with an unpleasant event in our lives, the mistake would be to fight against it. This would be the same as shooting ourselves with the second arrow. In other words, pain comes from outside (the aptly-named "slings and arrows of outrageous fortune"), but suffering comes from within us.

Homer summed up this human condition quite nicely in the Odyssey when Zeus declares:

Ah how shameless - the way these mortals blame the gods.
From us alone, they say, come all their miseries, yes,
but they themselves, with their own reckless ways,
compound their pains beyond their proper share.
(Book I, Ln. 37 - 40, Translation by Robert Fagles)

The antidote is to face things as they are; to find some way to accept that this is the way it right now, and that there may be no choice available than to acknowledge the experience, and then just allow it to be. This can prevent us from turning a small event into a catastrophe.

Blessings,

Roger

Becoming The People We Want To Be

A friend of Kathy's recently gave her a transcription of a talk that was delivered by Caroline Myss in 1994, entitled The Courage to Heal. After Kathy shared it with me, I have been and living with (and attempting to live) what I consider to be its four key paragraphs. For this, my first blog, I would like to share these words with you:

Why are we so afraid to heal? I believe it is because we really know that for every insight we get, for every thing we can forgive and finally let go of, our life moves a little faster, and we are terrified of the speed with which we can move. We're so afraid of our abilities we try to slow down.

We ask for help, but we are afraid of the very guidance we are invoking, because it brings change and it makes us make choices. We are afraid to make the changes we're praying for.

We're praying for enlightenment without light. We want to be powerful without power. So we get ourselves stuck between two orbits, the people we are and the people we want to be.

It's incredibly important to look at why we are so afraid of becoming what we want to be, and what we could be like if we got there. I believe the greatest thing we can give this planet is to be a fully courageous person who can make the choices we need to make in our own life.

We all know what it's like to be stuck. We even go so far as to organize ourselves around our "stuckness."

Try this, in your daily life... Identify one small area in which you seem stuck. Make it something simple and benign: cleaning out a closet or getting something done that has been moldering on your mental "to do" list for far too long. Make a plan to get the thing done, remembering (as Kathy always likes to remind me) that it is a technical problem, not an emotional one. Notice how you feel as you approach this task, note how you feel while you are doing it, and then how it feels after the task is completed. Later on, when you are ready to do so, you can use this experience as a template for approaching the BIG AREAS in which you are stuck.

And while you're at it, go ahead and identify the big areas, and acknowledge how you may have structured a life around these items. Be forgiving and loving with yourself. You're only human, and as our friend Jane likes to say, you are a work in progress. Assure yourself that someday, when the season is right, you will move these items out of the way as well. And if fear arises at the mere thought of moving through places where you are stuck, investigate this feeling carefully. It may actually be the excitement of looking forward to being the person you've always wanted to be.

Blessings,
Roger