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| She came to
retreat after retreat, but at some point it became clear that she was
using her practice to avoid and run away from the world, that her
meditation had simply re-created the fear of her early family life. Her
life, like that of the student above, was limited to certain compartments.
When this was brought to her attention, she complained, bitterly. Didn't
the Buddha speak of solitude, of sitting under trees is the forest, living
a life of seclusion? Who were we as her teachers to recommend anything
different? Her denial was so difficult to break through that she wandered for many years meditating in different spiritual communities. Only after ten years, after her own frustration and dissatisfaction grew strong enough was she motivated to begin to change her life, to break out of her compartments. The walls of our compartments are made of fears and habits, of ideas we have about what should or shouldn't be, of what is spiritual and what is not. Because particular aspects of our lives have been overwhelming to us, we have walled them off. Most frequently we don't wall off the great and universal sufferings of the world around us, the injustice, war and bigotry, but rather our own immediate and personal pain. We fear the personal because it has touched us and wounded us most deeply and this is what we must examine to understand these compartments. Only when we have become aware of these walls in our own hearts can we develop a spiritual practice that opens us to all of life. |
THE NEAR ENEMIES There is a specific teaching in the Buddhist tradition that can help us understand how the compartmentalisation and separation that operates in us is repeated in spiritual life. It is called The Near Enemies. The near enemies are qualities that arise in the mind and masquerade as genuine spiritual realisation, when in fact they are only an imitation, serving to separate us from true feeling rather than connecting us to it. An example of near enemies can be seen in relation to the four divine states the Buddha described of loving-kindness, compassion, sympathetic joy, and equanimity. Each of these states is a mark of wakefulness and the opening of the heart, yet each state has a near enemy that mimics the true state, but actually arises out of separation and fear rather than genuine heartfelt connection. The near enemy of loving-kindness is attachment. We have all noticed how attachment can creep into our love relationships. True love is an expression of openness: "I love you as you are without any expectations or demands." Attachment has in it a sense of separation: "Because you are separate from me, I need you." At first, attachment may feel like love, but as it grows it becomes more clearly the opposite, characterised by clinging, controlling, and fear. The near enemy of compassion is pity, and this also separates us. Pity feels sorry for "that poor person over there," as if he were somehow different from us, whereas true compassion, as we've explained, is the resonance of our heart with the suffering of another. "Yes, I, too, together with you, share in the sorrows of life." The near enemy of sympathetic joy (the joy in the happiness of others) is comparison, which looks to see if we have more of, the same as, or less than another. Instead of rejoicing with them, a subtle voice asks, "Is mine as good as his? .... When will it be my turn?'--again creating separation. The near enemy of equanimity is indifference. True equanimity is balance in the midst of experience, whereas indifference is a withdrawal and not caring, based on fear. It is a running away from life. Thus, with equanimity, the heart is open to touch all things, both the seasons of joy and sorrow. The voice of indifference withdraws, saying, "Who cares. I'm not going to let it affect me." Each of these near enemies can masquerade as a spiritual quality, but when we call our indifference spiritual or respond to pain with pity, we only justify our separation and make "spirituality" a defence. This is reinforced by our culture, which often teaches us that we can become strong and independent by denying our feelings, using ideals and a strength of mind to create safety for ourselves. If we do not recognise and understand the near enemies, they will deaden our spiritual practice. The compartments they make cannot shield us for long from the pain and unpredictability of life, but they will surely stifle the joy and open connectedness of true relationships. Cont'd Next Page . |
| A Path With Heart by Jack Kornfield |