Posts by Bodhipaksa

Gratitude in a time of calamity

First, the calamity

We’re on a very bad path in the US at the moment. Many of you live in the US, as I do, although many of you don’t. However, as they say, “If America sneezes the rest of the world catches cold.” What happens here affects the entire world. Many people outside the US are concerned, worried, or despondent. In some cases they are seeing the rise of politicians and voters inspired by what’s happening here.

I’m not going to detail the calamity. Let’s just mention that it’s not normal to have masked men grabbing people from the streets, from hospitals, from courtrooms, and government offices, while refusing to show ID or provide warrants. It’s not normal for the government to be sending people abroad to concentration camps where they are tortured and have no hope of ever being set free. It’s not normal for the highest court in the land to allow this to happen.

What is happening is not normal. It’s a calamity. It’s the collapse of democratic norms. Usually we’d rely on elections to get us out of a calamity caused by government action. But much of what is going on right now is illegal, and governments that commit crimes are not generally open to being removed from power, because then they might end up in prison.

Things are grim, and the grimmest part is that this has only just begun. It’s pretty much guaranteed that there is much worse to come.

On top of this, we all have our individual difficulties to deal with: an aging spouse, a messy divorce, struggling to make ends meet, uncertainties about our health, and so on.

It’s a lot to deal with.

Next, the gratitude

I’m not suggesting that gratitude is going to overthrow an authoritarian regime, stop masked men from kidnapping people off the streets, or restore democracy. But I do suggest that it can help us stay more emotionally balanced while bad things happen.

The worst things we can do are to become hopeless and despondent, thinking that things can never get better. We need optimism — the positive optimism of confidence, not the toxic optimism of just assuming things aren’t really that bad and that even worse things won’t happen. We need faith that there are things worth fighting for.

There are people who want us to feel afraid, traumatized, and hopeless, because it makes it easier for them to accomplish the evil acts they’re set on. Finding joy and optimism is an act of resistance. Creating emotional resilience is an act of resistance.

As an image someone recently shared in the Wildmind community says, “If you ever feel heavy because you care deeply about injustice, suffering, and ecological destruction, remember that a trillion dollar propaganda machine was built to make you numb, and it didn’t work on you.”

The same is true regarding the destruction of democracy and the rule of law.

Gratitude helps.

Even in normal times, our minds have a tendency to focus on the things that we don’t like — things that are going wrong, or aren’t going the way we would like them to go, people that annoy us, events that disappoint us, and so on.  We also have a tendency to take good things for granted, forgetting that most things in our lives are actually going well. These tendencies are inherent, and evolutionary psychologists say they’ve been useful for our species’ survival by helping us to avoid danger. But in modern times our main problem is usually not avoiding dangers. It’s learning to be at ease, to be happy, and to create and sustain loving connections with others.

Gratitude gives us a break from obsessing about the things that are going wrong, and turns our attention to the things that are going right. I have a practice of sitting down every morning and writing down five things (at least) that I’m grateful for. They’re often small things. This morning I shared my gratitude for learning from a kind and wise man in my dreams, text messages from my teenage son, an injury that’s healing (and another that at least is not getting worse), and the joy that has come from simplifying my possessions and making sure that the things I own have homes.

The secret, I find, is to avoid rattling through these things in a rote fashion, but to dwell on each one. I describe this as “holding each one in my heart until I feel the goodness of it.” In other words, I take something that’s good in my life, and I think about it for a little while. I might just let it lie in my mind. Or I might imagine what life would be like without it. Usually after just a few seconds I begin to feel a warm glow of joy. That’s what I call “feeling the goodness.”

This is the opposite of taking good things for granted. It’s the opposite of dwelling on the negative. And it has the opposite effect of those things. It uplifts me rather than dragging me down. It gives me joy rather than leaving me feeling disgruntled and critical.

Another secret is not to see my morning gratitude practice as the be-all-and-end-all of gratitude. It’s a gentle reminder at the start of the day of the direction I want my mind to move in. I want to be more appreciative. I want to take joy in life’s little things. And so I remind myself to keep returning to gratefulness throughout the day.

Every so often I’ll just pause and appreciate little things, like the way the leaves are blowing in the wind, or that sewers exist, or that there are shops just down the road where I can buy the food I need. This brings joy to life. It changes the very structure of the brain. It changes who we are.

(Feel free to join me and the others here who regularly share what they’re grateful for.)

We need joy and gratitude in order to get through these difficult times.

Rebecca Solnit Points out that beneath our anger is love: “You are angry the children are being bombed or the forest is being cleared because you care about them, so it’s not the feelings about the forces of destruction that is primary. It’s the love, and not losing sight of that is crucial.”

If we’re just angry, we’re playing a similar game to the authoritarian, who is angry and hateful about almost everything. We need to see what’s good and stay in touch with it. This takes practice.

Arash Javanbakht, a psychiatrist and a neuroscientist at Wayne State University, says “When you’re afraid, all you’re thinking about is what you’re afraid of.” He also points out that we need to balance the bad things we’re hearing by focusing on the good — even simple things like science, the arts, and sports.

There will be a time when this is all over. Maybe they won’t rig the elections enough. Maybe there will be a massive, non-violent uprising. In the meantime:

  • In a time of lies, appreciate truth.
  • In a time of division, be grateful for connection.
  • In a time of denunciation, recognize and celebrate the good in others.
  • And most of all, in a time of hatred, be grateful that love persists. Show it to others. Give them support and encouragement.

As the lawyer and commentator Joyce Vance likes to sign off, “We’re in this together.”

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Democracy and spiritual practice

The statue of liberty atop the freedom monument in Riga, Latvia. It shows a bronze female figure holding three stars above her head, against an intense blue sky. Photograph by Kiryl, on Unsplash. https://unsplash.com/photos/a-statue-of-a-person-holding-a-torch-with-freedom-monument-in-the-background-6iFTZTED40o

Because of the alarming political situation in the US, which has parallels with events in other countries, I’ve been writing about how we, as spiritual practitioners, might skillfully face the troubling emotions politics can give rise to.

The two emotions that stand out for me are fear (where is this all going? how bad will things get?) and despair (mourning the loss of democratic norms).

To help me to deal with these potent emotions, I’ve adopted three slogans: Feet on the ground. Heart wide open. Eyes upward (or keep looking up). These provide a framework for my practice.

  1. Feet on the ground means finding ways to keep ourselves emotionally balanced, so we  can avoid panic and despair. We might want to be mindful in our news consumption. We might choose not to follow those who build followings on social media by generating, outrage, and follow instead people who are informed, compassionate, and balanced. Keeping up a daily meditation practice helps us be calmer. Keeping up our friendships (especially with those who are wise and balanced) helps us with emotional regulation. We might also understand that what’s happening today is part of a long historical pattern of swings between more democratic and autocratic styles of government.
  2. Heart wide open reminds me that it’s important not to shut down and disengage, no matter how overwhelming the news might be. We need to create an inner space of compassion — staying in touch with our own suffering — and live from that space. We need to stay in touch with the reality of others’ suffering, and do what we can to help.
  3. Eyes upward reminds me that we mustn’t ever let what’s happening now seem acceptable. We must remember, at a time of viciousness and chaos, what’s good and normal, and how things should be. But a return to normal, difficult as it is to imagine the path that takes us there, wouldn’t be enough. “Eyes upward” means aspiring to create a better, fairer society than we had before. Above all, it means developing a deeper appreciation of democracy and wanting a better, more inclusive, less corrupt democracy.

Democracy Is Under Threat

In fact, one of the things we are losing, or might be losing — and this is a source both of grief and fear — is democracy itself. The grief comes because of the freedoms and security we have lost. The fear comes for many reasons, but chief amongst them is that when leaders are no longer subject to democratic accountability, very bad things start to happen, from political persecution up to torture, murder, and genocide.

Democracy goes through periods of expansion and contraction. There were very few democracies before World War I, but an explosion of them afterwards. Democracies in that period also became more truly democratic, extending the franchise to working class men and to women.

Before WWII there was rise of authoritarianism and a decline in democracy. But after that war, the former colonies shed their European overlords, former dictatorships became democracies, and democracy expanded again. With the collapse of the Soviet Union, many former communist dictatorships adopted democratic forms of government. The number of people living in democracies peaked around 2006, after which democracy there was a rise once again of authoritarianism. Sometimes this authoritarianism took the guise of “illiberal democracy” where elections take place, but the ruling party has rigged things so that they’re almost certain to stay in power. Orbán’s Hungary is a prime example of this.

Right now we’re seeing a stark decline in democracy in the United States. Danger signs include:

  • the president taking control of governmental spending (a function reserved for congress)
  • threats to media outlets and law firms that the president regards as enemies
  • threats against judges (and actual arrests)
  • the executive branch defying court orders
  • the government attempting to take over the running of universities, etc.

These are all classic moves in establishing a Hungary-type authoritarian pseudo-democracy.

Recognizing the long-term ups and downs of democracy reminds us that it’s not “game over” when a country becomes authoritarian or even an outright dictatorship. Authoritarian regimes tend to implode, and people’s hunger for freedom and self-determination can never be entirely suppressed.

Reasons to Have Faith In Democracy

I have faith in democracy as the best form of government for complex modern states. It is our best hope for a dignified human existence. And it is the best political system for facilitating spiritual practice.

I say this knowing that there is no such thing as a perfect democracy. Human beings are themselves not perfect, and we are emerging from a history soaked in blood. We cannot slough off the past, and have to learn from it, sometimes painfully, in order to move on.

I offer four grounds to support my claim that liberal democracy is the best form of government.

1. Liberal Democracies Are More Peaceful

It is exceedingly rare for democracies to go to war with each other. The establishment of democracy in virtually all of Europe and South America has drastically reduced the incidence of war in those areas of the world. The more democracies there are, the more peaceful the world is likely to become.

Autocracies are inevitably violent. Their leaders are themselves belligerent and intolerant. They see wars as a good way of distracting a population from the poor standard of living that results from their inept leadership. Their populations are often unable to protest against wars. This is the case in Russia, for example. People may be so misled by propaganda that they don’t understand what’s going on. Many people in Russia think their soldiers are fighting Nazis in Ukraine. The more freedom there is, and the more the media is able to report what’s going on, the more opposition there is to war.

When autocratic leaders don’t direct violence against other countries, they often do so against less-favored citizens of their own countries. Liberal democracies tend to be peaceful places to live. Citizens do not generally have to fear that they will be dragged off for holding dissenting views. As Orwell wrote, “No system except democracy can be trusted to save us from unspeakable horrors.”

2. Liberal Democracy Allows for Material Flourishing

Liberal democracies tend to provide a far higher standard of living than autocratic regimes. The 10 countries with the highest standard of living are all liberal democracies, and yet liberal democracies count for only a third of the world’s governments.  

Liberal democracies tend to be stable, predictable, and durable. No democracy is perfect, but in the main they have strong political institutions and legal systems, and democracies usually choose  people with demonstrated competence to staff its agencies. Authoritarian regimes, offer government posts as rewards to those who demonstrate loyalty to the leader. Corruption flourishes, and as a result, the country and its economy become inefficient. The more dysfunctional and corrupt a democracy is, the more likely it is that it’s in the process of becoming authoritarian.

The more flawed a democracy is, the worse the standard of living tends to me. Neither the UK and US is anywhere near the top of the standard of living chart (the US is 15th, while the UK is 22nd), and both countries have been downgraded by the Economist Intelligence Unit from “full” to “flawed” democracies.

3. Liberal Democracy Allows for Emotional and Spiritual Flourishing

There is a reason why so many great spiritual and philosophical teachers—including the Buddha, Confucius, Socrates, and Plato—arose in the so-called Axial Age. The invention of iron meant that society was no longer living at a subsistence level. People could use iron axes to clear forests for agriculture use, and plow fields with iron-tipped plows. The agricultural surplus they generated, they could transport long distances in carts with iron-rimmed wheels. This created cities, where minds could more easily meet and talk.

With a higher standard of living, and with more free time, people could now ask questions like,  “What is my life’s purpose? What does it mean to live a good life?” To focus here on material flourishing is not to be materialistic. It’s to recognize that freedom from material want allows for spiritual flourishing.

Many of the qualities necessary in the political culture of a democracy — a democracy’s “personality,” so to speak — are skillful traits of trust, ethics, and empathy. These qualities give rise to well-being in those that bear them and open them up to spiritual growth.

By contrast, authoritarian regimes produce unhappy people. Authoritarian governments engender feelings of powerlessness and cynicism. People may believe a regime’s propaganda for a while, but eventually they realize that they are surrounded by lies. Everyone is corrupt, and nothing is done well, but changing things is almost impossible.

Authoritarian regimes have to distract their populations from their problems. One way to do this is to generate hatred. Leaders will often target a despised group that they blame for society’s problems. In this way, authoritarianism encourages unskillful emotions of hatred and intolerance. For the same reason it encourages simplistic black and white thinking, rather than more nuanced thinking that encourages truth-seeking.

4. Liberal Democracies are Tolerant of Spiritual Exploration

One of the “personality traits” of democracies being their tolerance of diversity, democracies tend to allow for spiritual experimentation. Mature democracies officially recognize, minority religions such as Buddhism, and often give them access to special benefits, such as tax-exemptions. Although in some ways the US is a religiously intolerant nation, people who are Buddhists or members of other minority languages have been elected to high office.

The American experiment took as axiomatic the idea that people should be free to follow their own conscience in seeking a life that’s meaningful. For that reason, the founders of the US avoided having a state religion. In contrast, autocratic nations often have a favored state religion, and minority religions may be disadvantaged, discriminated against, or even persecuted.

Because of these positive conditions, Buddhist sanghas tend to flourish in democratic nations.

So for these four reasons — democracies being more peaceful, prosperous, emotionally skillful, and supportive of spiritual exploration — I describe democracy as the most desirable form of political organization.

We Are the Majority

As democratic norms are eroded, we need to avoid panic (feet on the ground), yet we need to care deeply (heart wide open) and channel our love anger into opposing harmful changes. And as we do these things we need to keep reminding ourselves and others of democratic ideals, and of the material, emotional, and spiritual benefits of democracy (eyes upward). We need to keep democracy in people’s minds and on people’s tongues, and resist their tendency to see what’s happening as inevitable and unstoppable.

It’s the desire for freedom that’s unstoppable. Yes, sometimes people take democracy for granted. Sometimes they’ll vote for authoritarian leaders because they’re struggling economically or afraid of demographic change. And for some people the cruelty is the point.

But as I’ve written before, “[it’s] important to remember that there are many people in the US (and elsewhere, of course) who believe in kindness, generosity, tolerance, compassion, democracy, standing up to autocrats, and protecting the world that sustains us. That’s much more than half of the population. We are the majority.

We are the majority. And we will prevail.

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If you keep falling asleep in meditation

Grayscale photo of a sleepy cherub, by Mario Wallner on Pexels.com

One of my more popular guided meditations on the Insight Timer app is meant to help people get to sleep. It’s been listened to 900,000 times across the two versions that I have available, suggesting that a lot of people have trouble switching their minds off at night, and find that meditation helps.

Unfortunately, a lot of people find that meditation switches their minds off when they don’t want that to happen; they keep nodding off while meditating. Here are a few pointers in case that happens to you. This is mostly meant for people who regularly have trouble staying awake in meditation, but even if that only rarely happens to you there’s some advice for you too.

First, if you’re falling asleep a lot during meditation, there are several possibilities:

  • It could be a health problem.
  • It might be that you’re chronically sleep-deprived.
  • It could be related to diet.
  • The time of day you’re meditating could also be a factor.
  • Possibly your posture isn’t letting you breathe properly.

Health

Health problems first: if you have Long Covid, Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, or some other energy-sucking condition, you might well struggle to stay alert or even just awake during meditation. Some of what I have to say later will probably help, at least a little. But as long as your condition persists you’re always going to struggle with tiredness.

I’m generally in good health, but like anyone my energy drops when I have a cold or other infection. When this happens, one thing I find helpful is to practice accepting that I’m tired. It’s not that I surrender to sleep. Far from it; I make a gentle effort to stay awake as best I can. But I accept that tiredness is just part of the mix of experiences I’m having. I’ll be dipping in and out of dreaminess during meditation, and perhaps even nod off momentarily, and I’ll keep saying to myself, “This is just how it is right now.” Saying those words doesn’t make me any less tired, but is an enormous relief, because it releases me from the assumption that I should be able to stay awake and alert.

Don’t get into a fight with your tiredness. Work gently with it rather than trying to force yourself to be alert. Using force will appear to work for a minute or so, but it takes energy, which in the long run makes you more tired, not less. Just value those moments when you’re more alert.

Adjusting my posture can help too. See that section below.

One of my students who was struggling with tiredness recently went to get his health checked and found he had developed diabetes. That’s an unusual case, but these things happen. If you have no known health conditions and nothing is helping to keep you awake in meditation, then it’s not a bad idea to go see your doctor. In most cases they’ll probably shrug, but it’s best to be sure.

Sleep-deprivation

A lot of us are sleep-deprived. Maybe we can’t get to sleep at night; you can find lots of information online about sleep hygiene and so on, and you could also try the kind of sleep meditation I mentioned above.

Sometimes we’re just burning the candle at both ends of the night: going to sleep late and getting up too early. If you’re going to sleep too late, maybe it has to do with seeking stimulation through TV or social media. One solution to staying up too late is to have empathy and compassion for your future self. In essence, treat your future self (the you that has to get up for work tomorrow) as a real person whose suffering is real, and be kind to them. Help them out by going to bed a bit earlier.

For social media compulsions I have a whole section of advice, called The Social Media Sutra. Dive in. There’s a lot of useful stuff there.

If you keep waking up in the middle of the night, often this is to do with hypervigilance or anxiety. I recommend recognizing and congratulating Māra — Māra being the personification of the thoughts and emotions that disrupt our well-being. Even the thought, “Oh no, I’m awake again. I’m never going to get back to sleep again” is Māra, and by recognizing this and congratulating him on how he’d fooled you into believing that thought you stop believing it. I can’t tell you how many times I’d had that thought and been asleep again within moments. Those middle-of-the-night feelings of alertness and awakeness can be pure illusion.

Diet

When I moved from Glasgow to Edinburgh many years ago, someone gave me a small espresso-maker — one of those little octagonal Italian things — as a house-warming gift. I was delighted to be able to start my day with a shot of rich, dark, very strong coffee. It took me a while to make the connection, but it turned out that drinking an espresso first thing in the morning gave me an energy crash around 3 PM. During these crashes, powerful waves of tiredness would assail me. Staying awake in meditation during those times was almost impossible.

Not long after, a friend reported that he was having energy crashes at work in the afternoons. I knew he consumed large quantities of sugary breakfast cereal first thing in the morning, and I suggested that maybe sometime similar was going on with him. At first he dismissed my suggestion out of hand, but a couple of weeks later he realized that it was indeed the early-morning sugar-rush that was causing the dip in his energy levels later in the day.

Heavy meals tend to make us tired.

So there can be dietary reasons why you fall asleep.

Time of day

It’s not just diet and caffeine that can cause energy dips: mid- to late-afternoons are notoriously sleepy times anyway. On retreats, I’ve sometimes dreaded meditating in that time slot, because it’s such a struggle to stay awake. If, for some reason, that’s the time you normally meditate, you might find it difficult.

Interestingly, on retreats I found the only thing that worked to prevent nodding in the afternoon sits was to do yoga first. The stretching brought the body to life and released energy, so that those sits were alert instead of snoozy.

Posture

One of the main causes of sleepiness in meditation, though, is posture, and adjusting your posture is one of the main ways to combat drowsiness.

If you habitually sit a little slumped, with the back slightly bowed, this puts pressure on the ribcage. That in turn prevents it fully opening. A lot of people do this without realizing. We need to make sure that the back is reasonably straight so that we can breathe freely.

If you sit on cushions or a bench, make sure you’re sitting high enough. Sitting too low causes bowing.

If you sit on a chair and your back is resting against the chair back, then you’re probably sitting with your chest compressed.

My trick while sitting on a dining chair is to bend forward from the waist as far as I can. Then I wiggle my butt back until it’s making contact with the back of the seat, then sit upright. You should find that the seat back makes firm contact just above your buttocks. This means your spine can be effortlessly straight without it resting against the back of the chair.

Office chairs tend to be better designed for sitting upright, but even then I find it useful to do the butt-wiggle thing. In contrast to a dining chair, my office chair gives me a little support in the upper back as well as just above the buttocks. Your chair might be different.

The position you hold your head in makes a difference to your energy levels. Make sure your head is balanced and that the chin is not moving down to the chest.

In fact, I suggest playing around with the angle of the head. Pivot on the first vertebra rather than moving the entire neck. Notice how your ability to breathe fully into the upper chest changes with your head in different positions. With your chin even just a fraction too far down you’ll probably find that your upper chest doesn’t move as much. You need to be able to breathe fully into the upper chest in order to keep your body and brain oxygenated. Without that, you can’t be alert.

Other tips

Paying attention to the breathing higher in the body (in the upper chest, throat, and head) promotes alertness.

Paying more attention to the in-breathing also promotes alertness.

Finally, try being aware of the impermanence of each breath, and how it only comes once. There is just this one time to appreciate each breath. That awareness can bring a sense of urgency that helps keep you alert.

Bodhipaksa

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Stay in touch with the good

A black woman wearing a leopard print headscarf, under which mini braids are visible, has her hand on her chin and her head tilted back as she looks upward.

As human beings, we are psychologically porous. We’re open to influences from outside ourselves, including others’ words and actions. That’s largely a good thing, because it means we can learn from other human beings.

But it also means that what’s going on around us can affect, in not-so-good ways, our sense of what’s normal and what’s right.

Peer-pressure is one term we use to describe that kind of influence. It’s a term that might suggest a conscious attempt by an individual of group to persuade someone to do something, like a group of teens pressuring one of their members to try smoking.

But this pressure can also be indirect; we witness people talking and acting in certain ways, and even if they don’t try to sway us, their actions can become a cultural norm that we want to conform to. We want to fit in. This pressure comes not from our peers, but from ourselves.

Moral compasses can shift

There are, however, more subtle ways that we conform to what’s around us. Our sense of right and wrong can shift without our even knowing about it. This happens not because we want to conform, but because our moral compass responds to the magnetic field of what’s happening around us.

This isn’t about wanting to fit in. It’s simply that we are attuned to our environment, and as moral values, actions, and speech change in our society, we change too. And this can happen in good ways. Generally there’s been a shift toward greater tolerance, for example. In 2005 gay marriage was almost unthinkable in the US. In 2015 it was legal everywhere, and more and more people accepted it. The more people there are accepting something, the more likely others will start accepting it too.

Also see:

On the negative side, if we see cruelty and dehumanization around us, we may start to buy into it. We get used to it. Tune it out. We may believe the story that the person snatched off the street and deported to a hellish prison camp is a dangerous gang member, even though no evidence, or only laughable evidence, is given to support this.  The government says that’s the case, but there’s no due process and no opportunity for the abducted person to defend themselves against legal charges, because there are no legal charges. Many of us may want to believe the government. We assume they must have their reasons. Or maybe we don’t care much because we don’t think this will happen to us and we lack empathy for those who are effected.

Shift happens

I remember seeing moral change happen to a young man, not long after Margaret Thatcher had been elected. We were both 18 and had worked together for a few months over the summer. We happened to bump into each other on a train platform, and when the train arrived he pushed his way past other travelers in his haste to get on board.

After I caught up with him he told me that you have to grab what you want in life. Having been been brought up to make sure that older people and women with children were seated first, I was shocked by his selfishness. He hadn’t been like that before, but the Thatcherite ethos that greed is good had taken root in his mind. He saw boarding a train as a way to show he was a “winner” in life’s competition, rather than as an opportunity to be civil to others.

Binding our minds to the good

One way we can resist becoming less skillful is to explicitly root our lives in moral values. As a Buddhist, I have lists of ethical precepts to guide my actions. The simplest of these is the five precepts. These are practices where we consciously aim to abstain from unskillful actions. There are, however, although ethically skillful actions we can commit ourselves to. For the sake of convenience, I’ll combine these:

  1. I undertake to abstain from harming living beings, and vow to live with compassion.
  2. I undertake to abstain from taking what’s not given, and vow to live with generosity.
  3. I undertake to abstain from sexual misconduct, and vow to live with respect for others.
  4. I undertake to abstain from untruth, and vow to live with honesty and integrity.
  5. I undertake to abstain from intoxication, and vow to live mindfully.

Ethics as a free choice

These are not rules. There is no authority making us obey them, and no punishments, beyond the natural consequences of our actions, for failing to observe them. Each precept contains something we choose to undertake for the benefit of ourselves and others. Together they comprise a set of “training principles” (sikkha-pada) through which we aim to change ourselves through the decisions we make in life.

To keep themselves oriented to these precepts, many people chant them daily, often as a prelude to their sitting meditation practice.

I talk about this as “binding our minds to the good,” but this does not imply a lack of freedom. A ship that’s adrift, being pushed around by the winds and tides, is not free. A ship that has sails and an anchor is free.

Ethics as a mirror

But simply saying words doesn’t change us. We need to keep coming back to examining our thoughts, words, and actions against the yardstick of the ethical principles that the precepts remind us of. For example, no matter how badly some politicians behave, it’s unethical for us to wish harm upon them. No matter how much we think an item of fake news might help our cause politically, if it’s untrue we shouldn’t spread it. Fighting these temptations is difficult, but it’s a good difficult. It’s the kind of difficulty that makes us better people.

The Buddha pointed out to his son that just as a mirror reflects our appearance, moral reflection shows us who we are. The precepts give us a way of seeing ourselves.

By holding ourselves to a framework of ethical standards, we’re more able to prevent the moral forces around us from pulling our inner compass out of alignment . Sangharakshita described this in terms of becoming a true individual rather than a group member. The group member feels they’re right because they’re doing the same as others are doing. The true individual’s moral compass is better insulated, and they can rely more on the precepts.

Keep looking up

In responding to our current political situation, one of the phrases I’ve been bearing in mind is “Keep looking up.” This means, stay in touch with your ideals. Keep aspiring for and working toward a better world. It also means, don’t accept the erosion of what’s good and right.

At the moment, what’s good and right is under grave threat in the US.

  • Free speech is being punished and curtailed.
  • The right to legal defense is under attack.
  • Judges are being threatened for upholding the laws and the constitution.
  • Due process is being dispensed with, so that the government claims it has the right to determine, without needing a trial, who is and isn’t guilty of crimes.
  • The government is saying it can snatch people off the streets and deport them to inhumane prisons overseas, and that these decisions are irreversible, even if they are illegal.
  • The government is saying that it can break the law with impunity and ignore the courts.

Our crumbling democracy

With remarkable rapidity, an entire democratic system is crumbling, because without due process, and especially without habeas corpus (the right to challenge your imprisonment) there is no basis for a democratic society. Any of us might vanish at any time. When means we’re fearful, and silence ourselves. Which means that our speech is not free, because it can land us in prison. Or in my case it could get me deported. This article, if brought to the attention of the immigration services, could get my green card revoked. This has happened to others.

And this is just the start. The track record of autocratic leaders is well-known. They always persecute political opponents, who they harass, jail or even kill. That is the path we are on, and we are moving down it much more quickly than most people had feared.

We have no idea how far things will go before they are reversed. This will happen, because human beings aspire to freedom. But we don’t yet know how this reversal will be brought about. Will we even have free and fair elections in future? Neither do we know how long it will take.

Aim higher

In the meantime, we have to keep looking up. Don’t just long for and work for a return to free speech, due process, the rule of law, and the separation of powers. Long for and work for a world that’s better than what we had, because our democracies are always flawed, and democracy in the US was more flawed than most.

The law has never been equally applied to all, regardless of social status, sex, or race. It’s always been harder for some people to vote than others. Not everyone’s vote is equal. Those in power have often served the interests of the rich and powerful more than their own citizens. Our task is not just to return to the democratic norms we used to take for granted, but to create a better, fairer democracy for ourselves and our descendants.

To that end, support courage when you see it. When a university refuses to comply with governments attempts to curtail its academic freedoms, celebrate and support them. Support courageous politicians. When a librarian refuses to remove books that contain LGBTQ themes or  ethnic minority characters, praise them. Support courageous publications and give them your attention and your money. When someone gives a TED talk and names a coup as a coup, share this as an example of courage that we should emulate. When someone shows up at a demonstration and waves a banner showing resistance to the erosion of democratic norms, appreciate them and thank them.

These are all things we can look up to and emulate.

Keep looking up. Things will get better, but only if we remind ourselves and everyone else that they can.

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Mythbusting the name “Siddhartha”

A Thai-style Buddha statue, seated, surrounded by poity stupas, silhouetted in front of a peach-colored sunset.

This is one of a series of articles where I’ve been mythbusting things people “know” about the Buddha. These myths include the supposed facts that he was a prince, that he was born a Hindu, and that he left home after seeing “four sights.”

Such factoids are present in almost every book book about the Buddha and Buddhism. Yet if we look with a little historical awareness at our earliest sources — the scriptures — we see that none of these things is true.

In this article I want to mythbust something else that everyone thinks they know, which is the Buddha’s personal name having been “Siddhartha” (Siddhattha in Pāli). The evidence we have indicates that it wasn’t.

The short story is that the name Siddhartha isn’t found in the early scriptures, and is a name given to the Buddha after his death. If you’re interested in the long story, continue reading…

Siddhartha was an epithet, not a name

Siddhartha (Siddhattha in Pali) means “one who has accomplished (siddha) his aims (attha).”

In none of the scriptural discourses — the suttas — is the Buddha referred to as Siddhartha. This name is only found in a few very late texts, such as the Apadāna, the Buddhavaṁsa, and the Milindapañha, which post-date the Buddha’s death.

Rather than being a personal name, Siddhattha is an epithet, which is “an adjective or phrase expressing a quality or attribute regarded as characteristic of the person or thing mentioned.”

People applied many epithets to the Buddha, including Sugata (the one well come), Tathāgatha (the one thus gone), and of course Buddha itself (the one who is awakened). The Buddha most often referred to himself as Tathāgatha.

He’s sometimes, but rarely, referred to in the scriptures as Sakyamunī, “the sage of the Sakyans.” This is another epithet, and probably a late one. (The later Mahāyāna often refers to Gotama as Śākyamuni Buddha in order to distinguish him from other, mythic, Buddhas.)

First name, last name? It’s not so simple

We tend to read our contemporary assumptions about names back into ancient times. So we assume that people have to have a first name (or personal name) and a last name (or family name). Perhaps they have one or more middle names as well. We assume that the family name is shared by everyone in their father’s direct lineage. So my dad’s last name is Stephen, my dad’s dad had that name, I inherited it, and you’d expect my children to inherit it in turn. You’d expect someone to have only one family name. You wouldn’t expect the Stephen family to also be called something else, like “MacTavish,” for example.

But not everyone in the world shares these naming conventions. There are places where people only have one name. In Ethiopia, the tradition is that your last name is your father’s first name. My daughter’s first passport — an Ethiopian one — had her last name as Bodhipaksa, which is my first name.

In Iceland, your last name is your father’s first name with the added suffix -son or -dottir, depending on your gender. In Iceland I’d be Bodhipaksa Iansson, and my sister would have been Fiona Iansdottir. Although my sister and I were members of the same family, we would have different last names.

The  “first name followed by a family name” model is not universal in modern times, and we certainly can’t apply it to ancient India. We have to let-go of some assumptions before we consider the Buddha’s names.

The Buddha’s last names

That the Buddha was called Gotama (Gautama in Sanskrit) is not problematic. The scriptures bear witness to the fact that he was called Gotama, because people often call him that. They refer to him as “the ascetic Gotama” (samaṇa gotama) for example.

Gotama wasn’t exactly a family name in the way we understand it, though. It was a tribal, or gotra name.

Now, the Buddhist scholar Alexander Wynne tries to make a case for Gotama being the Buddha’s personal name rather than a gotra (tribal) name. Gotama was a Vedic family name, and the Buddha’s tribe were not followers of the Vedas, and so, he reckons, the Buddha’s family could not have been called Gotama.

But then in the scriptures you have things like this, where the Buddha is teaching the Sakyans of Kapilavatthu, his home town:

The Buddha spent much of the night educating, encouraging, firing up, and inspiring the Sakyans with a Dhamma talk. Then he dismissed them, saying, “The night is getting late, Gotamas. Please go at your convenience.”

The Buddha refers to his fellow Sakyans as “Gotamas,” which means that Gotama is not being used as a personal name. It’s a gotra (clan) name. The Buddha’s father, Suddhodana, is also referred to as Gotama. And his aunt and foster mother is known as Gotami, the feminine form of the name.

And at one point the Buddha says outright, “Gotama is my clan.”

What’s in a (clan) name?

A clan name is not necessarily what we would think of as a family name. You’ll notice that the Buddha, in the quote above, calls the Sakyans “Gotamas.” Sakya was a country. Under mainstream European naming conventions it’s not possible for even a small nation’s citizens to all have the same family name. It may be that different families in Sakya had different family-identifying names, but I’m not aware of any evidence for that in the scriptures, and I doubt that was the case. They were all Gotamas.

As for Wynne’s argument that Gotama is a Vedic name — the name of a sage — I’ve addressed that elsewhere. Sakka became a subject state of the kingdom of Kosala. It’s likely that as part of having their rulers legitimized, the Sakyans went through some kind of ceremony where they were aligned with the legendary Rishi Gautama. This Gautama would have been akin to a “patron saint.” The Sakyans didn’t otherwise follow Vedic traditions, but non-Vedic peoples taking on clan names based on Vedic figures was not uncommon.

Children of the Sun

The Sakyans weren’t just Gotamas. They had multiple, overlapping names.

Before his enlightenment the Buddha met King Bimbisāra of Maghada, who was curious about his origins. The Buddha-to-be explained,

Their clan [gotta] is named for the Sun [Ādicca],
they are Sakyans by birth.
I have gone forth from that family

So the Gotamas, or Sakyans, also went by the name Ādicca. This was another epithet.

Sometimes the Buddha referred to himself as “Ādiccabandhu.”  It means “kinsman of the sun” or  “of the Solar race.” Given the quote above, it’s likely that all Sakyans were called Ādiccabandhu.

So his family seems to have been both Ādicca(bandhu) and Gotama. Perhaps Ādicca, or Ādiccabandhu, was their original name and Gotama the one they were given as part of their legitimization by the Kosalans. Maybe Sakya was their original name, with Gotama being assigned by a king and Ādicca being an epithet. We just don’t know.

Rays of Light

It gets worse! The Gotama clan was also known as “Aṅgīrasa.” This name literally means “Rays of Light From the Limbs” but it refers to the spiritual descendants of the mythical Rishi (sage) Aṅgīras.

Some people have suggested Aṅgīrasa as the first name of the Buddha. It certainly sounds like it when you read a sutta like this:

I’m the son of the Buddha, the incomparable Aṅgīrasa, the unaffected,
the bearer of the unbearable.
You, Sakya, are my father’s father;
Gotama, you are my grandfather in the Dhamma.

A note in the Access to Insight translation of this discourse refers to an ancient commentarial suggestion that Aṅgīrasa was one of the Buddha’s personal names. But Aṅgīrasa is the name for a branch of the Gotama clan lineage. So it’s another “last name.”

We’re not used to the idea of having multiple last names. It’s not unknown, though. I said earlier that you wouldn’t expect a Stephen to also be a MacTavish, but in the Scottish clan system the Stephens are MacTavishes. While my relatives wouldn’t sign “MacTavish” on the dotted line, if you asked one of them what clan they belonged to the correct answer would be “MacTavish.” Maybe that’s similar to how the Sakyan clan system worked. I don’t think anyone knows.

Anyway, we have lots of overlapping clan names (or “last names”) for the Buddha, but no clear first name.

No names please, we’re enlightened

The Buddha in fact discouraged even the use of his gotra name, Gotama, at least if you were one of his followers and addressing him personally.

When, shortly after his awakening, he sought out his five former companions, they came to him and addressed him as “friend (āvuso) Gotama.” His response was:

Don’t address the Tathāgata  by name and as “friend.” The Tathāgata, friends, is a worthy one, rightly self-awakened.

“Tathāgata” was how the Buddha generally referred to himself. It’s another epithet, although seemingly a self-chosen one.

Presumably this restriction on the use of “Gotama” only applied to the Buddha’s followers, since respectful Brahmins tended to call him “worthy Gotama” (bho Gotama) or “master Gotama” (bhavaṁ Gotama). He didn’t seem to have a problem with that.

Sakyan exceptionalism

When it comes to names, the Sakyans, as in so many other areas, had different customs from the Brahmanical cultures to their south.

The Brahmins that came to talk to the Buddha seem to have referred to themselves by their clan names. But the Sakyans referred to themselves and each other primarily by what seem to be personal names.  Suddhodana, Ananda, Nanda, Suppabuddha, Anuruddha, and Devadatta: these are all relatives of the Buddha, and these appear to be their personal names.

So it’s significant that we don’t know the Buddha’s own personal name. It may be that referring to the enlightened one by a personal name might have been a taboo.

It might be similar to how images of the Buddha were not made during his lifetime, or for a long time thereafter.

After a few hundred years of cultural change, people (the Greeks, first of all) started creating Buddha images. Similarly, after a period of time people started to give the Buddha a first name: but they didn’t know what it originally was, so they tended use epithets to fill in the blank.

What’s in a name, anyway?

Our bureaucratic culture, where births and deaths are officially registered, insists that people must have one official name. In practice, though, “Alexander MacTavish” might use his full name, or be referred to as “Alex,” “Lex,” “Al,” “Big Al,” “Sandy,” “Xander,” etc. Of course, if you asked him what his first name “really” was, he’d answer that it was “Alexander” — his legally registered name. But they didn’t have such things in ancient India. In the system where there’s no such thing as an official first names, does the question “What’s the Buddha’s real first name?” actually mean anything?

Consider the Buddha’s wife. Most people who’ve studied Buddhism will confidently say she was called Yasodharā, but in doing that they’re making a choice to disregard the other names that she might have used or been known by. Rāhulamātā (Rāhula’s mother) is the most common name by which she’s known in the scriptures. Bhaddakaccānā is also found a couple of times in the scriptures. Gopi is most consistently used in other early sources. The editor of the Dictionary of Pali Proper Names posited that her name might have been “Bimbā.” Yasodharā only appears after her death.

During her life Yasodharā, to call her that for now, might have been known to different people at different times by some, all, or none of those names. The Buddha too might have had multiple names. He might have had one personal name as a child, and then another name as an adult. He might have had different personal names in different contexts — with his wife, parents, friends, and so on. He might have had a secret, ritual name. We just don’t know. His personal name, or names, has been lost.

A sacred silence

We need to learn to be comfortable with not knowing what the Buddha was called. Our minds tend to want to fill in the gaps, but in this case we don’t even have a sound basis for guessing. Our minds want to fit the Buddha’s names into our modern, bureaucratically influenced naming conventions, but we would be wise to resist that impulse.

If it helps, perhaps we could consider that if it wasn’t important for early Buddhists to record the Buddha’s name, it shouldn’t be important to us either. In the mental space where his personal name would go, we could perhaps let a sacred silence take root.

When people first started carving or painting scenes from the Buddha’s life, they left a space where the Buddha would be. For example, you’d see the tree where he was meditating, but not him. You’d see his footprint, but not his foot.

Scholars call this “the aniconic Buddha.” The absence of the Buddha was a sacred space of awe and reverence. The place where the Buddha’s name should be could be like that, too.

An ethical issue

Ethically, we should not state something to be the case unless we are certain it was. We certainly shouldn’t say that the Buddha’s first name was Siddhattha or Siddhartha. We can honestly tell people he he was called Gotama. People did call him that. We can say that Gotama was something like a last name.

We can still call the Buddha “Siddhārtha” or “Siddhattha,” of course, but we should also explain that this is something akin to a title, and not a first name as we understand that term today.

By acknowledging this, we communicate to people: It’s okay not to know things. We don’t have to make things up. We don’t need to create the illusion of knowing. When there is reason to be uncertain, we should refrain from false certainties.

When something is unknown, it’s honest to say that it’s unknown. And the Buddha’s personal name is unknown.

Bodhipaksa

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Self-love, self-kindness, and non-self

A man's forearm and hand reach up to its reflection in a mirror. The image looks very like an oil painting.

Someone wrote to me recently and asked two questions, which boiled down to:

  1. Did the Buddha teach self-love?
  2. Is loving yourself contrary to seeing through the illusion of self?

There was a third question, but it was a little quirky, and so I’ll deal with it at the end.

First, I explained that these days I find the language of “self-love” unhelpful, mainly because the word “love” is so open to interpretation.

Self-kindness rather than self-love

I prefer to think in terms of self-kindness — that is, treating yourself with the same warmth, supportiveness, encouragement, and forgiveness you’d show to a dear friend.

The idea of “loving yourself” can be tricky. If you talk about “loving” parts of your personality that are harmful to yourself or others, this can imply that you approve of them.

But if you talk about being kind to them, that implication isn’t there. You can be kind toward someone without approving of what they do. Being kind toward harmful parts of yourself implies working patiently with them and not judging yourself harshly for having them.

The Buddha on self-kindness

The Buddha mostly talked about self-kindness implicitly, but there is one place he talks about it fairly explicitly. Talking about people who act skillfully, he said,

Even though they may say, ‘We aren’t dear to ourselves,’ still they are dear to themselves. Why is that? Of their own accord, they act toward themselves as a dear one would act toward a dear one; thus they are dear to themselves

He explains that acting toward yourself “as a dear one” means behaving ethically — that is, acting with regard to your own and others’ long-term happiness and well-being.

He contrasts this with people who say they are dear to themselves but who act unskillfully, thus heaping up future suffering for themselves. In other words they think they are being dear (kind) to themselves but they are acting like their own enemies.

So for the Buddha, the thing was to genuinely be kind to ourselves (that is, to treat ourselves as we would treat a dear one) by acting skillfully. That’s a pretty explicit acknowledgement of the principle that we should be kind to ourselves and treat ourselves as friends.

We’re kind to others if we’re kind to ourselves

We should treat ourselves as we would treat a friend, and treat all others as we would treat ourselves. And so we should think and act as follows:

I want to live and don’t want to die; I want to be happy and recoil from pain. Since this is so, if someone were to take my life, I wouldn’t like that. But others also want to live and don’t want to die; they want to be happy and recoil from pain. So if I were to take the life of someone else, they wouldn’t like that either. The thing that is disliked by me is also disliked by others. Since I dislike this thing, how can I inflict it on someone else?

The general principle is both clear and beautiful: “The thing that is disliked by me is also disliked by others. Since I dislike this thing, how can I inflict it on someone else?” It applies to all actions. And so, the Buddha applies this principle to other forms of behavior, such as stealing, sexual misconduct, lying, and so on.

We could call this “self-love,” but I don’t, as I said, find that term very helpful. I think it’s better to say that we should be kind to ourselves — that is, we should treat ourselves in the same way as we would treat someone dear to us.

But no form of words, whether it be “self-kindness” or “self-love” is immune from misinterpretation. We have to understand that whatever we call it, “treating ourselves as dear” means acting skillfully, which means treating others as dear.

Dharma teachings work together

This mutuality of kindness for self and other is something the Buddha talked about in the Sedaka Sutta:

Looking after yourself, you look after others; and looking after others, you look after yourself. And how do you look after others by looking after yourself? By development, cultivation, and practice of meditation. And how do you look after yourself by looking after others? By acceptance, harmlessness, love, and sympathy.

One of the things about Dharma teachings is you can’t take just one of them and expect it to “work.” They’re designed to work together, synergistically. So “self-kindness” and “other-kindness” are mutually supportive. When I’m kind to myself that helps me be kinder to others. When I’m kind to others I’m helping myself, too.

Being kind is not being “nice”

One thing I think needs clarified, though, is that being kind to others is not the same as being “nice” to them, which is what people often do.

Being “nice” involves seeking approval from others. The assumption is: “If I act in the right way, others will like me and show me kindness.” It’s insincere, flawed, and ultimately selfish.

Niceness is what happens when we don’t have self-kindness, and so we try try to manipulate others into being kind to us in order to fill the void inside us. That void arises because we haven’t learned to be kind to ourselves. We don’t regard ourselves warmly, talk to ourselves encouragingly, and forgive ourselves when we’re not perfect. Because we don’t relate to ourselves kindly, we crave the kindness of others. Hence the manipulation.

Genuine self-kindness is when we respect ourselves, treat ourselves as we would a dear one, and have kindness and empathy for ourselves.  This naturally extends to others when we empathetically know that they are just the same as us: they want to be happy and they don’t want to suffer; their feelings are as real to them as ours are to us.

Self-kindness and non-self

My correspondent asked a third question:

The Buddha said to send metta/goodwill to all directions, but is towards oneself a direction? That would seem to be stationary, since you ARE yourself.

I replied that I thought this was an overly abstract way of seeing things that overlooks our actual experience.

My actual experience is, I perceive myself. Or at least I perceive various sensations, thoughts, feelings, and impulses that I collectively label “myself.”

This “myself” includes both perceiving and things that are perceived.

There is always an emotional tone to that perceiving. Someone can hate themselves — that is, they perceive themselves with disapproval. Someone can be kind to themselves, which means that they perceive themselves with gentleness, patience, supportiveness, and encouragement (as they would a dear friend).

So yes, I can have goodwill for myself. I can be kind to myself. When, in the final stage of lovingkindness practice, I “send” kindness in all directions, I’m simply letting my awareness be permeated by an attitude of empathy and kindness. I let my awareness permeate the world, which means I’m “sending” kindness everywhere. But I’m also permeating my own being with a kindly awareness, and so I’m “sending” kindness to myself. (Actually, there is no “sending” of anything. That’s just an imperfect metaphor.)

To say “you ARE yourself” is to treat yourself as a unified phenomenon — that is, as if you were a self. A true self (something completely unified) could not be in relation to itself. Rather, each of us is an amalgamation of various activities, processes, etc. That includes parts that can relate kindly, and parts that need to be related to kindly.

It’s because there is no unified self that we’re able to be kind to ourselves.

Bodhipaksa

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Keep your feet on the ground with mindful news consumption

Feet wearing shoes, seen from above looking straight down, standing on a kerb .The kerb and road are dotted with small golden leaves.

A friend of mine recently went on a trip to visit a friend and to do some sightseeing. The effects of this on her mental health were amazing — and she ascribes much of the benefit of that to having spent less time imbibing the news.

Actually, imbibing isn’t the right word. Right now, taking in the news can be like, as they say, trying to drink from a firehose. It’s overwhelming.

Outrage by design

Partly this is by design. The intent, in the words of a government advisor, is to “flood the zone with shit.” This means to keep doing outrageous things, and to lie continuously.  There are probably a number of motivations behind this.

We can be reeling so much from one outrageous news story that others slip under the radar. We can only protest so much.

As Brandolini’s Law reminds us, it takes an order of magnitude more effort to debunk lies than it does to tell them. Lying continually exhausts your opponents and the media.

Provocative tactics such as renaming an international body of water can have people up in arms about things that barely affect them, while other things are going on that will have serious effects on their lives.

And people who feel overwhelmed and traumatized by what’s going on might just tune out and not even pay attention to what’s happening at all. A passive population is helpful if you’re pushing policies that a lot of people disagree with.

Off-balance and not thinking clearly

The news is often emotive, and that’s especially the case right now for many of us. We can end up emotionally constantly on edge, off balance. And when we’re on edge our minds tell us that it’s important we don’t miss out on anything important, so we spend even more time reading, listening to, or watching the news. Which makes us even more anxious.

When we’re panicked or despairing, we don’t think or perceive clearly. We think of “solutions” that will make things worse. We lose perspective and assume that nothing can be done. We fail to notice what people are already doing, and so we don’t offer them our support.

We become convinced that our outrage will help change things. But that’s not true. Action changes things. Outrage exhausts us and prevents us from taking action.

At times of crisis it’s important that we keep our feet on the ground, emotionally. And so we need to be aware of the tendency we have to be made anxious and outraged by the news, and how this can lead to further news consumption — a vicious emotional cycle.

News fasting

A temporary total news fast can be useful as a way of resetting ourselves emotionally. Some people do this long-term and still stay informed. When I’ve gone on news fasts I’ve found that I’m still aware of what’s going on. People discuss the news on social media. They share links to news stories, which we see, even if we don’t read the stories. People tell us about the news face to face. So we don’t become totally disconnected from what’s going on. And that’s a good thing, because there are often things we should be aware of.

I tend to think of news fasts as being good when we need to “detox,” but in the longer term it’s a question of managing our news consumption — mindfully.

Real mindfulness

Mindfulness is an over-used and often misused term. Someone recently wrote me a scathing email accusing me of being “unmindful” for having made a typo in an article. I decided not to respond, but if I had I might have pointed out that mindfulness is principally a tool for monitoring ourselves. It’s for noticing whether our thoughts, emotions, and actions are beneficial or harmful for ourselves are others. If we’re mindful, we might write a kind message pointing out a typo, even if our first instinct is to get on our high horse about it.

So being mindful of news consumption isn’t just code for “reading fewer news stories” — which is what we do in the world. What it means is being sensitive to ourselves — which is do do with what’s happening inside us. What effect is our news consumption having on us? Not just in general, but as we’re actually reading or watching the news? How does it make us feel? Is it exhausting us? Making us anxious? Is it a neutral experience? Are we actually enjoying it?

This may change from day to day and minute to minute, because there are so many factors that affect our well-being, such as whether we’ve slept well, how demanding our work is, how our personal relationships are going, and so on.

We need to keep checking in with ourselves, and this gives us the freedom to change what we’re doing. If you’re having a growing sense of dread as you read story after story, maybe stop?

Notice the effect the news, and the feelings it creates, is having on your thoughts and actions. Is anxiety compelling you to stay immersed in the news? Maybe you really should stop!

Downshift emotionally

I suggest downshifting to less emotionally demanding news media. Television news is emotionally “hot.” It bombards you with moving and still images. You hear the voices of people you loathe. You see people arguing. It’s a lot to take in. The only time I ever

The radio news is a lot cooler, because you don’t get the emotional impact of all the visuals.

Reading the news is cooler still. You can pick and choose what you read, while with radio and television news programs someone else is choosing everything for you.

Choose wise sources

But even within the realm of reading about the news, there’s a spectrum. There are partisan news outlets that rely on outrage to get and keep readers “engaged.” Often do do this they will exaggerate or otherwise be deceptive. There are other news sources that are more balanced, thoughtful, and accurate.

We can be drawn to outraged commentators. We might assume that these people have the passion and anger to really change things. But often what they’re doing is a performance. It’s called “moral grandstanding.” People worked up and excited, but they end up exhausted and stressed as well. If these outrage merchants every give practical advice, it’s usual impractical.

I find it helpful to read analysis that puts things in a historical context. I’ve mentioned before people like historians Timothy Snyder and Heather Cox Richardson, legal experts Joyce Vance and Teri Kanefield, and expert on authoritarianism, Ruth Ben-Ghiat. These are people who illuminate without inflaming.

We can learn that what’s going on right now politically is part of a pattern that’s been going on for centuries. This can help us, because we have a tendency to think that when our side wins an election, everything’s going to be okay now. It’s not. These centuries-long struggles will continue. We can also learn from history that we are not alone. Others have faced challenges, too. In fact we can see that others have had things much worse than we have. Compared to the US Civil War, or either of the World Wars, we’re in a good situation. To say that is not to downplay the real suffering that’s happening now. It just helps us put things in perspective so that we don’t panic as much.

Be selective

I’m hearing people say that they’re exhausted trying to keep up with everything. That’s what your opponents want, so don’t give it to them. If you do read in-depth, limit that to the things you most care about. Adam Savage, the former presenter of Mythbusters, recently said that his news “titration” strategy is “kind of scanning the headlines from a distance and sort of getting a rough idea of what’s going on.” That’s wise. I’ve no doubt that sometimes Savage also reads in-depth about those issues he most cares about.

I used to subscribe to the email newsletters of the commentators I mentioned above, mostly through their Substack blogs. But having emails piling up in your in-box is emotionally demanding. So instead I’ve switched to using an RSS app. RSS is Really Simple Syndication, and it’s a technology that’s been around since the early days of blogging. As well as just sitting there, waiting to be read, blogs also “broadcast.” You can subscribe to them so that every post ends up on, for example, an RSS app. Using an RSS app is like having a blog you can visit that’s composed of posts from all the websites you’re most interested in.

I use an RSS app called Reeder on my computer and phone. If you go to your app store and search for “RSS reader” you’ll find a bunch of them. Some are free. Some aren’t.

So now, instead of reading emails because they’re in my in-box, nagging me, I have to go to my RSS app and see what’s there. I don’t feel that I need to read everything. Sometimes I don’t have the time.

Connect with others

We are social animals. Getting support from others online is great. Spending time with friends is fantastic. It’s grounding.

You can start or join a book group. The other week I bumped into a woman in a bookshop who was looking for Timothy Snyder’s “On Tyranny” — a book I love and have recommended to innumerable people. She needed one because she was joining a book group. That’s a great text to discuss because it’s short, informative, and practical.

You can also get together with others to plan resistance strategies from letter-writing to staging protests.

Remember there are more decent people who have empathy than evil people who lack it. There are more of us than there are of them.

Look for the helpers

Fred Rogers said, “When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.'”

Feeling alone is terrible. But we’re not alone. There are people who are working hard and who have our backs. Unions, the ACLU, and other organizations are launching lawsuits to restrain authorities from acting outside of what they’re legally allowed to do. There are journalists who are working tirelessly to uncover what’s happening. Find out who these people are. Watch what they’re doing. Let the positive be part of the news you’re consuming.

Be a helper

More than that, support organizations that are doing good. Find out how to donate to them. Mostly that information is right on their organizations’ home pages. By doing this you make yourself part of the news. You won’t be in the headlines, but few are. Most soldiers in Ukraine, who are fighting to preserve their democracy, their freedoms, their country, and their fellow citizens, are never going to be featured in newspapers or have Wikipedia pages. But what they’re doing is historic, and will be talked about centuries from now. Similarly, your much easier, much less risky contributions to support good organizations are part of history.

You can participate in non-violent action. My partner and I recently made a sign for a protest outside our state capital building (she attended — unfortunately I couldn’t). We have participated in boycotts of businesses whose politics we believe to be harmful. I look forward to more marches, demonstrations, pickets, and other displays of resistance.

Help make history. Be part of the news.

Find refuges

As you try to mindfully manage your news consumption, you will find yourself getting upset, angry, and fearful about things that are happening. That’s not a failure on your part. It’s just you having normal emotional reactions to very abnormal circumstances. You’re going to need to keep finding ways to bring yourself into balance.

Back to my friend who found that site-seeing and going on forest walks helped her to detox from the news; we can’t all do that, exactly, but we can look for other ways to turn our attention away to the news for long enough that our minds become calmer and bodies start to relax. I find I’m reading much more than I used to. I’m finding the physicality of real books, and the ability to immerse myself in the stories they contain.

Get out into nature. Make crafts. Meditate. Do things that keep you sane, and that you can connect with others over. As everything becomes more politicized, we need more things we can do that are not political.

Anyway, these are my suggestions for ways you can help keep yourself grounded. Give some thought to what might work for you.

Any other suggestions? Or examples of things you’ve been finding helpful? Please share them below.

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Mythbusting the Buddha having been born a Hindu

Vishnu as the Buddha, flanked by disciples. From the San Diego Museum of Art Collection.

Many people “know” that that the Buddha “was born a Hindu.” But this, like the ideas that he was a prince and that he left home after seeing “the four sights” is also untrue.

The “Hindu Prince”

Writers often bundle myth of the Buddha having been born a Hindu together with his supposed princely status. For example, a website called “Smart History” says:

The man who became known as the Buddha was a Hindu prince, named Siddhartha Gautama, who was born in the 5th or 6th century B.C.E. to a royal family—the leaders of the Shakya clan—living in what is now Nepal.

This is just one of many places making this claim. The problem is, as I’ve said in earlier mythbusting articles, that many writers just repeat what other writers have said. They don’t check this information against the scriptures, which are our earliest and most reliable guide to the Buddha’s history. And so myths can go unchallenged for centuries.

This presentation of the Buddha as a former Hindu is just a terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad account of history.

Brahmanism versus Hinduism

Practitioners of the spiritual traditions around at the time of the Buddha didn’t necessarily give names to their religions. There was nothing called “Buddhism.” Followers of the Buddha just said they were “followers of the Buddha” or or his Dharma. They didn’t say they were “Buddhists.”

Brahmins don’t seem to have had a name for their tradition either. Buddhist say they were Brahmins who had “mastered the Vedas” (vedānaṁ pāragū). Or they describe them as “accomplished in the Vedas” (vedasampanno). That may be how they described themselves, too.

Nowadays we call this religious tradition “Brahmanism.” Its not called “Hinduism,” which is a much later term.

It’s true that Brahmanism was one of the phenomena that, combined with others, became Hinduism. But it wasn’t Hinduism.

Wikipedia summarizes the current understanding of the relationship of Brahmanism and Hinduism by saying: “Brahmanism was one of the major influences that shaped contemporary Hinduism, when it was synthesized with the non-Vedic Indo-Aryan religious heritage of the eastern Ganges plain (which also gave rise to Buddhism and Jainism), and with local religious traditions.” [Emphasis added]

Another Wikipedia article says, “Hinduism developed as a fusion or synthesis of practices and ideas from the ancient Vedic religion and elements and deities from other local Indian traditions.”

Brahmanism was an influence on Hinduism, which emerged later, but it was just one influence.

The baffled Hindu time-traveler

Let’s imagine you were to take a modern Hindu back to the time of the Buddha. They probably would not accept that they and the Brahmins back then were doing the same thing.

The modern Hindu would see Brahmins reciting the Vedas, and think, “Cool!”

But then they’d see them sacrificing cattle and be shocked.

The modern Hindu would see no temples in the Buddha’s India. He’d hear Brahmins talk of an afterlife in heaven or with the ancestors, but no talk of reincarnation. But he’d hear Buddhists talking about rebirth all the time. He’d also hear Buddhists, but not Brahmins, talking about samsara.

The modern Brahmin would see animist cultures worshipping local deities and believe that this was “Hinduism,” but the Brahmins of the Buddha’s time would not recognize the animists as being part of their own religious tradition and the animists would certain not regard themselves as being part of Brahmanism.

As Bhikkhu Sujato says in a talk on whether the Buddha was a Hindu, “what we understand of as Hinduism today didn’t even remotely exist in the time of the Buddha.”

Buddhism is older than Hinduism

One thing that will surprise many people is that Buddhism is older than Hinduism. The Buddha established the Buddhadharma during his lifetime, some 2,500 years ago. Hinduism is much younger.

When something comes about through a slow process of amalgamation and innovation, it’s hard to say when exactly it started. The formation of what we now call Hinduism took place from about the 5th to the 8th centuries, according to Bhikkhu Sujato, in the same talk I just mentioned. This, he says, was the birth of Hinduism. Guy Welbon, in “Hindu Beginnings” puts the essential synthesis rather earlier. He wrote, “It is only at or just before the beginning of the Common Era that the key tendencies, the crucial elements that would be encompassed in Hindu traditions, collectively came together.” The disagreement arises simply because it’s not possible to pin down precisely the line when a slowly evolving entity stops being one thing and starts being another.

Bhikkhu Sujato points out, “If India has always been a Hindu country, how come for hundreds of years in the archaeological record — nearly a millennium in fact — we find nothing of Hinduism and plenty of things of Buddhism and Jainism?”

Note that this isn’t some trick of language — that “Hinduism” is a new term, while the religion itself dates back to the Buddha. No, the religion itself dates from a period several centuries to a millennium after the Buddha. What came before was a collection of different religious traditions that did not consider themselves to be doing the same thing.

Sakya was not Brahmanical

But even if we were to stretch the definition of Hinduism — way beyond credibility — so that it were to encompass the Brahmanical practices of the Buddha’s time, the Buddha’s people did not even practice mainstream Brahmanical teachings.

I’ve searched the scriptures looking for a single encounter between the Buddha and a Brahmin in his homeland, Sakya, and found nothing. I’ve seen mention of “Brahmin villages” in surrounding territories (these were lands gifted by kings to Brahmin settlers) but none in Sakya.

In fact the single mention I’ve come across of a Brahmin being in Sakya was in a conversation the Buddha had with someone called  Ambaṭṭha, who recounted to the Buddha how he had once, at the instruction of his teacher, visited the capital, Kapilavatthu, and had been treated with an utter lack of respect. The Sakyans, he said, giggled at him and wouldn’t even offer him a seat. The Sakyans treated him like an alien curiosity, not as a religious teacher. Ambaṭṭha doesn’t talk about having met any other Brahmins in Sakya.

Sakya was not Brahmin-friendly.

Sakya was opposed to Brahmanical beliefs and practices

The Sakyans had a belief system that was at odds with that of the Brahmins. Brahmins were obsessed with caste, or varṇa, which was a four-fold system of socioreligious purity, with themselves at the top. The Buddha’s people saw themselves as warriors (khattiyas, which literally means “owners”). They saw themselves as superior to the Brahmins.

The Sakyans being khattiyas doesn’t mean that soldiering was necessarily their profession. Sakya didn’t have a standing army. Most men living there would have been farmers, craft workers, or traders, although probably all males had some martial training.

The thing is: the fact that they saw themselves as superior to the Brahmins utterly conflicts with Brahmin belief.  To the Brahmins, the fourfold social-religious hierarchy with themselves at the top was ordained by the gods and spelled out in their scriptures. The Sakyans insisting they were superior to the Brahmins was a rejection of the Brahmin world view, and of their religious scriptures.

The Sakyans had completely different beliefs of social classes. To the Brahmins, one’s caste was an intrinsic part of one’s being, and you could no more change your caste than you could change your species. One of the Buddha’s arguments against the Brahmin’s views on social and religious hierarchy was that there were places — Sakya was one of them — where there were only two social classes: masters and servants, and it was possible for a master to become a servant and vice versa. There was nothing intrinsic about one’s social worth, and these class distinctions were just social conventions. To the Sakyans, caste, in the Brahmanical sense, didn’t really exist. This is a huge deal. It’s an utter rejection of a key part of Brahmanical teachings.

The Sakyans’ religion

One of the Buddha’s epithets was Ādiccabandhu, or “Kinsman of the Sun.” Some people have suggested that the Sakyans were therefore sun-worshippers. But there’s no direct evidence they were, and in fact there’s no mention in the Buddhist scriptures of any gods the Sakyans might have worshipped. Whoever or whatever they worshipped, they apparently did it without the help of Brahmin priests.

They did seem to regard certain trees as sacred, and used them as shrines. The oldest known shrine in Sakya was a sacred tree at the Buddha’s birthplace, Lumbini. Trees as special places crop up all the time in the Buddhist scriptures. The Buddha was born under a tree. He realized that he’d previously had a glimpse of the path to enlightenment while he’d been sitting under a tree as a boy. He got enlightened under a tree. He taught under trees, encouraged people to meditate at the foot of trees, and died under a tree.

There are many mentions of yakkhas (native spirits that inhabited trees, mountains, etc.) in the Pāli texts, which may mean that the Sakyans worshiped not the trees themselves, but the spirits they believed resided in them. To my mind it’s highly likely that the Sakyans were animists.

I’ve seen no mention of animal sacrifice of ritual fires in Sakya, or of ritual bathing or other purification rituals, all of which were important parts of Brahmanical practice. Sakyans buried the cremated remains of their dead in burial mounds known as stupas. This was not a Brahmanical practice.

So the Buddha’s tribe (presumably along with other tribes in what is now southern Nepal) seem to have had their own religious tradition, entirely separate from what the Brahmins were doing.

The mystery of the name “Gautama”

The single strongest argument that the Sakyans were part of orthodox Brahmanism is their gotra (clan) name, which was Gautama, or Gotama. This is traditionally a Brahmin name. In fact it’s the name of a Brahmin seer (rishi), from whom the Sakyans claimed descent. This descent wasn’t genetic, incidentally (the rishi was not their ancestor), but cultural and symbolic.

How would non-Brahmins end up with a Brahmin name?

Bhikkhu Sujato explains:

As the brahmins spread across India, one of their chief tasks was to ally with the local kings and provide legitimization for kingship via their rituals and traditions. There were different Brahmanical lineages according to the specifics of how the rituals were performed and the texts transmitted, and these are sometimes raced back to the ancient seers (rishi) who originated the lineage.

Since the Sakyans didn’t embrace anything like Brahainical orthodoxy, we might safely assume that this connection with the rishi Gautama was fairly superficial. It may be that a monarch who the Sakyans were vassals of, forced them to undergo some kind of ritual blessing by a brahmin of the Gautama lineage. This would be similar to the way in which some pagans, under the influence of Christianity, underwent “conversion” but carried on with their old ways regardless.

The Sakyans were not alone in being identified with an ancient seer. The neighboring Mallas were called Vāseṭṭhas, after another ancient rishi, the sage Vāseṭṭha (Skt. Vasiṣṭha). They, too, were khattiyas (warriors), rather than Brahmins.

So the Buddha was not a Hindu.

First, Hinduism didn’t exist.

Second, the Sakyan people did not follow or even agree with Brahmanical practices.

Myths as propaganda

To say that the Buddha had been a “Hindu prince” is horribly inaccurate. It also feeds into Hindus’ claims that theirs is “India’s oldest religion” — which is simply propaganda.

Hindus claim that the Buddha was really a Hindu, and even that he was an incarnation of Vishnu (seen in the illustration above) . The most common reason given is that the Buddha/Vishnu came to argue against animal sacrifice (which has a very ancient history in the Vedas.)

Hindus often talk about their religion being very tolerant. But that tolerance can take the form of saying “No matter what you think, we consider you part of our religion. And because you’re part of our religion, we’re in charge of you.” For example, for a long time, Hindus have claimed ownership over the Buddhist holy site of Bodh Gaya. After all, Buddhism was “part of Hinduism.” Recently, Buddhist monks have been on hunger strike to protest the Indian law that gives control of a Buddhist site to Hindus.

A court case forced Hindus to give Buddhists a minority say in the running of Bodh Gaya, but still gave Hindus ultimate control over the site. Just to be clear, it is one hundred percent a Buddhist site with no historical connection with Hinduism or its predecessor religions. And it’s controlled by Hindus.

The myth of the Buddha having been born a Hindu feeds the myth of him having been a “Hindu reformer.” And this provides fuel for Hindus who want to appropriate Buddhist holy places.

Hinduism and fascism

Hinduism’s tendency to “tolerantly” absorb and exert dominance over Buddhism and other religious traditions has evolved into what’s called the “Hindutva” movement, which is a blend of Hinduism with ideas borrowed from European fascism. Hindutva is a “political ideology encompassing the cultural justification of Hindu nationalism and the belief in establishing Hindu hegemony within India,” according to Wikipedia.

Claims that the Buddha was born a Hindu are propaganda, feeding that unhealthy political trend. Such claims are not just inaccurate, but are politically harmful in a way that is damaging to Buddhism itself.

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Self-compassion for troubling times

A woman reading a book with the title "Chaos"

At the moment lot of people are suffering more than usual. They are anxious, exhausted, and overwhelmed about the awful things going on in the world. They’re often glued to the news and steeped in the commentary that takes place on social media, their amygdalas on overdrive and their endocrine systems jangling with adrenaline.

I recently shared three slogans that have been helping me stay in balance. They are: Feet on the ground. Heart wide open. Eyes upward. These are phrases I suggest we all bear in mind.

I want to explain now how they relate to the practice of self-compassion.

What is self-compassion?

Self-compassion is a major part of my spiritual practice. It helps us when times are hard. (I wrote a book on it called “This Difficult Thing of Being Human.“)

Self-compassion is treating ourselves as if we, and our suffering, matter. It’s where we are our own advocates. It’s where we provide ourselves with emotional support when times are rough. It can involve cutting yourself some slack when you realize you’ve messed up. After all, who doesn’t mess up? It can mean recognizing that suffering is normal, and not a sign of failure. Again, everyone suffers; it’s part of the human condition. It can mean offering yourself emotional support and reassurance. We all need those things. It can involve self-care, which means recognizing your needs for rest, nutrition, friendship, recreation, and so on, and making sure you meet those needs as best you can.

Let’s see how this works under the headings of the three slogans I’ve suggested.

1. “Feet on the ground”

We need to learn to keep our feet on the ground, emotionally.

Reactive emotions such as worry, anger, and despair hijack the mind and create suffering. In response to our feeling bad, the mind generates catastrophizing thoughts that make us feel even worse. These reactive emotions seem to imply that they will help; the unspoken assumption seems to be something like, “If I just keep worrying about this enough, thinking about all the things that might go wrong, I’ll be safer.” But instead, we suffer even more intensely and make it even harder for ourselves to do things that might actually help.

Recognize you’re suffering

The first step with self-compassion is recognizing that we’re suffering. You can’t meet your suffering with compassion if you don’t recognize how it’s there. So instead of being caught up stories about how awful things are, we need to recognize that these stories are part of our suffering. We need to recognize that worrying, anger, and despair are forms of suffering.

Drop the story

Having recognized that worry, anger, and despair are patterns of thinking that intensify our suffering, we next need to gently let go of them.

You can recognize, “This way of thinking doesn’t serve me” and decline to put any more energy into it. You drop the story.

But we don’t just drop the story and find ourselves in a mental vacuum. What we do instead is to turn toward the body, so that our awareness is filled with sensation, rather than thinking.

Turn toward painful feelings

We do this by noticing and accepting our suffering as it manifests in the body.

When the mind gives rise to worry, anger, and despair, what it’s reacting to are painful feelings in the body. Emotions are responses to feelings.

Any time you’re in a reactive state, notice what’s going on down in the chest, around the diaphragm, and in the belly. You’ll notice that there are unpleasant sensations there. There might be tightness, tingling, fluttering, heaviness, pressure, and so on. None of it feels good.

These are “feelings,” which are not the same as the reactive emotional patterns I described above. Feelings are just sensations. Emotions are something we do. They are our attempts to address those feelings.

Feelings may be unpleasant, but they are never “bad.” So we can accept them.  They’re just sensations. They’re just signals arising in the body as communications from ancient parts of the brain that are saying, “Look. I think there’s a threat here that you should pay attention to.”

Accept what’s difficult

Rather than reacting emotionally to our feelings, we can just accept them and allow them to be present.

If necessary, you can say to yourself things like, “It’s okay to feel this. It’s just a sensation. Let’s just experience this. Let’s just allow it to be. There’s nothing to fear here. It’s unpleasant, but it’s not bad.”

This kind of self-talk helps support us as we bring our attention back, over and over, to our feelings.

You can notice the qualities of the feeling: the pressure, tingling, etc. You can notice how it changes.

The more the mind is engaged with observing the feelings as if they were any other sensation, the less the mind is able to react to them. And so observing our feelings reduces our tendency to be reactive, and helps us become calmer.

2. Heart Wide Open

Yet there’s much more to self-compassion than accepting painful feelings, no matter how important that may be. Compassion is when we meet our suffering with kindness. So we need to evoke kindness.

One of the easiest ways to awaken our innate capacity for kindness is the practice of “kind eyes.” We simply remember what it’s like to look with kindness, and notice the qualities of warmth, tenderness, softness, etc. that arise in and around the eyes. Then as we turn our attention toward a painful feeling, we find those qualities follow, having permeated our inner gaze of interoceptive awareness. In this way, we meet pain with kindness.

We can also talk to our pain. In effect this is the compassionate part of us communicating with and offering support and reassurance to the hurt or frightened part of us. We can say things like, “I know this is hard for you, but we’ll get through this. I’m here for you. I love you and I want you to be happy.”

Often when we’ve done all these things — recognized that we’re suffering, dropped the story, turned toward and accepted painful feelings, and offered ourselves support — we lose our reactivity, which benefits others. As the Buddha said, “Taking care of myself, I take care of others.”

Turn outward

Our reactivity had previously been keeping our attention running in circles like a dog convinced that its own tail is an enemy to be pursued. Now the mind has stopped running in circles, and is able to have a wider view. We’re able to see, for example, that others are suffering just as much, and often more, than we are. And because we’ve already aroused our empathy and compassion, we meet their pain with compassion as well.

Having self-compassion frees us up to have compassion for others.

Feeling compassionate toward others who are suffering — whether it’s because they’re in a war zone, are having their civil liberties withdrawn, or are scared about the future — is a good start, but ideally it sets us up for taking action so that we help where we can. That action might just involve asking someone how they’re doing, and listening with an open heart as they tell us. We should be wary of jumping in to give advice, but we can at least let the other person know that they’ve been heard and understood.

Being compassionate toward others helps us as well as them. It helps us meet our deep need for connection with others. And it reminds us that we’re not alone in suffering. Suffering is a universal feature of the human condition. Because compassion helps both parties, the Buddha said, “Taking care of others, I take care of myself.”

3. Keep Looking Upward

Keep looking upward. We need to remember what’s good and normal, even when it’s been replaced by viciousness and chaos. This is hard to do, because our expectations tend to slide. One tragicomic element of the first Trump administration was the repeated eagerness of some journalists to declare Trump as having been “presidential” because he’d managed to read a script from a teleprompter without going into word-salad digressions and without tossing around childish taunts and unkind nicknames.

Those journalists had made the mistake of letting their standards slide: being presidential no longer meant having personal qualities of decorum, leadership, wisdom, and emotional maturity. Now it simply meant “being able to read a prepared script.”

Remember “normal”

In so many ways, we need to remind ourselves of what “normal” used to be, so that we can, hopefully, return to normal. I highly recommend Masha Gessen’s “Surviving Autocracy” as a reminder of what “normal,” how we’ve departed from it, and how the media normalized those departures. Timothy Snyder’s “On Tyranny” is, however, a better guide for how to stay sane when a government slides into autocracy.

Keep hope alive

We need to keep hope alive. As Howard Zinn said, “To be hopeful in bad times is not just foolishly romantic. It is based on the fact that human history is a history not only of cruelty, but also of compassion, sacrifice, courage, kindness.”

Hope helps us psychologically. As Thich Nhat Hanh said, “Hope is important because it can make the present moment less difficult to bear. If we believe that tomorrow will be better, we can bear a hardship today.”

We can change things. Maybe not much. But we can change things a little. And one person changing things can inspire others, which leads to more meaningful change.

There’s strength in numbers

Remember that there are more decent people than there are cruel people. We are the majority.

And according to a study by Erica Chenoweth of the John F. Kennedy School of Government at Harvard, and Maria Stephan of the U.S. Institute of Peace, no democracy moment has ever failed when 3.5% of the population has protested over a sustained period.

It’s hard for us to sustain hope. But it’s essential, for our own emotional well-being, for us to be able to sustain others, and for the world.

So these are some of the ways in which self-compassion can manifest as we keep our feet on the ground, live with our hearts open, and keep hope alive.

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Find peace with “Sitting With Bodhi”

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A black man wearing headphones and looking meditative, in a misty forest.

I warmly invite you to join me in an innovative meditation course.

The focus in these 42 guided meditations is learning to calm our restless minds and learning to evoke a pervading sense of peace and calmness that we can bring into our daily lives.

Sitting With Bodhi is a unique concept. There are no readings. It’s all about practice. So what you get is a series of emails, each with a link to a guided meditation recording.

How It Works

The guided meditations are 10 minutes long, but open-ended. You’re invited to set a timer for as long as you want to sit — for example 15 or 30 minutes. The guidance lasts for 10 minutes, and ends with an invitation for you to continue the suggested practice for the rest of your sit.

The Creating Calmness series has 42 meditations, all recorded specially for this course. Each introduces a skill that will help you feel calm, confident, and at ease, so that you can experience more peace, even when events around you are stressful.

These are skills you can being into your everyday life, imbuing your everyday activities with a sense of peace.

No Pressure

Thanks to the magic of technology, the next day’s email won’t be sent out to you until you click a special link in the current day’s email. So if you have a few busy days and aren’t able to listen to the guided meditations, or if you want to stick with one meditation for a few days, there’s no pressure! Emails will only arrive when you are ready for them! Isn’t that great?

And you can take as long as you want to complete the course. There’s no end date.

Questions I’ve Been Asked

Q. Am I able to return and revisit a meditation after I complete it?

A. Yes. You can listen to the meditations as many times as you want.

Q. Do the meditations have to be completed by a certain time?

A. No. It doesn’t matter how long you take to complete the series. You really can go at your own pace.

Testimonials

  • “This series of guided meditations arrived during a very difficult period in my life. Each meditation helped me settle my mind and I was able to enjoy a period of peace in an otherwise very hectic and stressful situation. That situation is on going and it’s helpful that I can revisit each meditation. Thanks Bodhi!”
  • “I have been meditating for a couple of years but found the techniques here (especially the ‘soft eyes’) very helpful in getting me to a calmer mind set. 🙏”

How to Join

To sign up, just use one of the payment buttons below: PayPal, Venmo, or credit card.

Within 24 hours of subscribing, you’ll receive the first course email.

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