Last night I had the distinct pleasure of hearing Pema Chodron speak. On the theme of wakefulness, she talked a lot about the nature and quality of monastic life. But, as usual, she also shared a lot of other wisdom.
She told a story of a tiger kept in a small cage. The tiger paced back and forth endlessly in his small space, drawing the compassion of many who watched him. A committee of these people decided that the tiger would benefit from a large, more appropriate environment, one that was more true to his tiger nature. They spent years working closely with the zoo and experts in this area. They raised funds for the project and finally created a wonderful and stimulating environment .
The day came when the tiger was to be released into his wonderful new home. The committee watched in amazement as he stepped from his cage and immediately began to pace back and forth in a small area of his new space. Finally it dawned on them: the tiger had learned to pace back and forth in order to comfort himself. Faced with a new environment, his need for comfort was just as great as it had been in the cage.
Ani Pema used this story to illustrate how we revert to habitual patterns of behavior, no matter how dysfunctional, because they are familiar to us. In this familiarity there is comfort. We respond to challenging situations (ones that “push our buttons”) with predictable emotions. Anger, fear, depression and defensiveness are just a few manifestations. Most often the world responds to us in equally predictable ways, reinforcing our habitual realities.
Monastic life, she said, is often viewed as a sheltered environment free from these every day stresses. But she was very clear that it is quite the opposite. Monastic life only frees us from our means of escape (media, intoxicants, “busy-ness,” sex etc.). In this environment we have to deal directly with our own “stuff.” We have to face up to our habitual patterns and the way they determine our reality. In the monastery we cannot hide, as its day to day life emphasizes an active practice of being “awake.” This wakefulness draws attention to our habits and teaches us to handle them as they arise. It also makes us more forgiving of these habits, both in ourselves and others.
After the talk, Ani Pema took questions from the audience. One woman asked her “If I have a few spare months, why would I want to take temporary monastic vows when I could be in Africa working in an Aids orphanage?” It was a question that resonates with many people. Ani Pema answered her by saying that both are important, but that a strong sense of wakefulness empowers us with a profound ability to really help others in a deep way, and that the things we do after we have deepened our wakefulness will have a much more profound impact on others. If we have not developed some skill in wakefulness our ability to truly give will be very limited. She went on to say that she had seen this first hand, especially with young people who have lived for months in the monastery. It has made them infinitely more effective and changed the course of their lives.
“OK”, you’re saying, “So what happened to the tiger?” The tiger, apparently, did eventually venture out into its new space. In his natural wisdom, he let go of his habits and freed himself. People, however, are far more cerebral. We create cages in our own minds through our habitual patterns and our “busi-ness.” We often forget to give space to just being awake and aware of the precious life around us. So here’s my question to you: What do you do to free yourself of your own caged, pacing mind? Like the tiger, what can you do, what DO you do, to discover this amazing and beautiful world we live in?
2 Responses
May 2nd, 2009 at 1:13 pm
Thanks for this…lately I have been finding myself very caught up in my habitual patterns — living inside my head and not DOing anything. I wish I had been able to attend the talk but feel inspired reading this…I am about to make a change…
May 21st, 2009 at 6:46 pm
Alexandra: about wakefulness in relation
“Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing,
there is a field. I’ll meet you there.
When the soul lies down in that grass,
the world is too full to talk about.
Ideas, language, even the phrase each other
doesn’t make any sense.”
Rumi
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