Transcription
So in this talk and the one I'll do next week, I want to explore the theme of desire a little bit, and sort of divide it into at least two parts. If we think, as human beings, with this aspect of our being, of our heart, of our life, the aspect of desire, and how mysterious, in a way, that is, particularly if we come from this or that tradition, it can feel like, "Well, maybe I'll get to the bottom of that. Maybe I will fully understand that one day." But maybe desire is one of these aspects of our existence that's actually infinite in its mystery. We can approach it from so many different angles, so many different directions, and each one reveals something quite different, perhaps. Maybe I cannot exhaust my exploration of desire in this life.
Having said that, what I'd like to do in these two talks is take two, maybe three directions, angles, approaches to this whole area, but two or three that are probably pretty unusual in this kind of environment of these kind of teachings. So not the ones we would usually, perhaps, talk about, or that I may have talked about in the past in relation to desire. So a little bit different directions, and also, for me, different ways of teaching, different styles of teaching. So I'd like to do things differently, come at it differently, in a number of different ways.
Partly, in terms of the teaching, what I really want to do is to question and open things up, rather than -- as is usually the case when I teach -- sort of plunk down and communicate conclusions: "This is how it is." I don't want to do that so much. I'd rather just seek to open things up, shake things up a little bit, because as practitioners, as human beings, it's so easy, without realizing it, to settle, to become settled in certain views -- maybe only partially examined views. So easy. And something, over time, gets shrunk if that's the case. Something, over time, gets rigid, and something gets limited that way. And that can go on. It can go on for years and decades without us even realizing it. So easy.
When you're listening to this talk and the other one, it's also very interesting: when we listen, how easily we hear something and, without realizing it, we want to put it into a box, into a framework of what I already know. So we might chip off a bit of what we're hearing, just chip it to fit the conceptual framework and the box of 'what I already know' so that nothing gets too shaken up, too challenged. This is just something human, apparently. But I wonder if, in listening, we can actually do the opposite, and keep an ear out for what's new. What's there that is not already in my conceptual framework? I'm looking to be opened up, to question, to be shaken up a little bit, something to get challenged. It's a different way of listening.
Today I just want to say a little bit of introduction and the first angle on desire. So what's your image, what's your sense or imagination of what it's like to be enlightened, or what an enlightened person is like, or what their experience is like? Maybe you say, "I have no idea." What have you heard? What have you read? Maybe, I would venture to guess, there's something that we imagine, that this person, or person near that, they don't want anything to be different. Something has happened in terms of their desire. Desire is gone. They say, "I'm just with what is. I have no desire for anything other than what is. I'm just in the moment."
That's usually somewhere wrapped up in our sense of what it means to be awakened. Of course, you've heard teachers -- I'm sure myself included, and others, and the Buddha, certainly -- saying, "Suffering comes from clinging and from desire, so beware of clinging, beware of craving, desire, greed. Beware of it, and let it go." The Buddha, for example, just in relation to sense desire, he said, "Impermanent are sense pleasures, hollow, false, and delusive. They are conjurer's tricks, magician's tricks, tricks which make fools prattle."[1] Pretty strong language. We don't often speak that way.
I don't even have to be a meditator to look inside and outside in my life and see that desire clearly leads to suffering. How clear that is. You just look, in the case of addiction, and the enormous suffering that's wrapped up in that because the mind is caught up, bound to some desire -- whether that's a fully-blown, obvious addiction, or the more subtle addictions we have.
The effects of greed on the planet -- why is it, after all this time, all these years we've been hearing about climate change, we can't seem to get it together, can't seem to put something significant into place? What's going on there despite the knowledge? Does it have something to do with greed that we're not prepared to let go of, with desires that we're not prepared to let go of? I might want something in my developed Western world. I might have that desire, and not be willing to give it up, even if it means that someone on the other side of the world might not be able to have those things. What's happening? And the devastation this causes, huge. Basic willingness -- we seem to somehow go along with an exploitation of others just because this desire stream is running.
The Buddha, when he says, "What is suffering?", one of the things he says is "Not getting what you want is suffering. Not getting what you desire is suffering."[2] So all this is obvious just when I open my eyes; I don't need to be a meditator to see any of this. And so teachings come, and teachers say and write, "Let go! Let go!" Have you heard that, "let go"? And sometimes, of course, we hear that, and it sounds great. It's so simple. It's great, "let go." "That sounds great! I'm going to let go." And what happens? Well, sometimes I can let go. But sometimes I can't. Did you experience this? We have limited success letting go. And of course, we tend to conclude, "Well, it's my fault. I'm not awakened enough. I'm not this. I'm not that." There are many reasons why our success in letting go is limited. But maybe it's also in part that desire itself is not so simple. It's just not so simple, and that's why it's difficult to let go. The teaching is too simple.
At another retreat centre, something happened. I heard about it because I know both of the people involved, the student and the teacher. I know them quite well. The student reported this back to me at another time. She was in a group interview, and she said she was sharing her longing for God. This teacher responded in the group, "Longing for God is just another craving like all others. It brings suffering. It's an attempt to escape what is. Let it go." So I heard this, and I didn't feel very comfortable with that at all, actually, knowing both the student and the teacher. Because it may be that [for] some -- and in this case, this other teacher -- there's a fear of desiring: I'm afraid to desire sometimes, and afraid to desire deeply, and afraid to desire for deep things. There's a fear. There's a holding back of that.
And we talk about non-clinging, and we try to let go of the deep desire. But in all that, in all that talk, and in all that kind of practice, many smaller desires may remain alive, unchallenged -- the desire for comfort, for pleasure, for security, for convenience and ease. All kinds of fears unchallenged. Fear and desire go very much together.
[11:10] With all this, I have a question for all of us, myself included. Is it your personal experience, is it really your personal experience, as they say, 'empirically proven,' proven for myself, in my experience, that desire brings suffering? Is it so simple as that? And is it always true? Might it also be true in your experience, if I look honestly, carefully, deeply, that sometimes the absence of desire, the non-acknowledgment of desire, the non-nourishing of desire, brings suffering?
This is what I want to explore over these two periods together, or some of that, anyway. Three directions over these two talks, and not so much conclusions, as I said, but openings, questionings, making space. Let's start, and as I said, we'll do it in a slightly different way. I'd like to do it together, as a kind of exercise or exploration together. It's not really a meditation. You could think of it that way, if you want. It's a kind of inquiry together.
[12:51, guided exercise begins]
So you can sit in whatever posture is comfortable. It doesn't have to be your meditation posture, but just something where there can be a certain openness in the body, and a certain wakefulness. The eyes could be closed or open, or you can change as you go along.
I want to find a way in with this. Whatever posture you're in, just taking a little time to really land in that posture, to relax, to find some ease in the body and in the moment. Being in the body, in the fullness of the body, with awareness, with presence, with sensitivity. And also, just as much as is possible, with kindness. This body, this mind, this moment now, held in kindness, held in care. Seeing if it's possible to see this exercise, this exploration, this inquiry that we're about to do, to see it as a kindness, as a gift to ourselves. That's the only reason for doing something like this. To inquire deeply into ourselves is a kindness. It is a gift. And as we go along, you can keep coming back to that orientation of kindness if it feels like it's helpful.
So the very first part is optional, only if it feels okay. Is it possible to imagine yourself (hopefully many years from now) on your deathbed? In a room, on a bed, knowing that death is approaching, at the most a couple of days away, perhaps. The end of this life, of this journey, of this adventure. In this imagination, at this time that you're imagining, there's clarity, and the ability to look back, look back on one's journey, on one's life, all of it, remember, seeing it clearly.
Let's just pause there with that, with that imagination, and notice how that feels in the heart, what the feeling response is. The end of this miracle, of this wondrous gift. And then, at the end of the life, with the clarity -- or if you're doing it from this moment, from this perspective -- dropping in the question: "What did I want from life? What did I want? What was it that I wanted? Or what do I want? What is it that I want?" Dropping the question in, and seeing what ripples from that, what responses. Remembering the space of kindness, the holding of kindness, the orientation of kindness inside. What is it that I wanted to move towards, that I want to move towards, to put my energies towards?
[20:04] So not pressuring or forcing answers, putting the mind and heart under pressure. Being spacious and gentle, receptive. We could turn the question around: "At the end of life, what do I regret not doing, not trying, not going for? What would I regret not doing, not going for, not trying?" Lots of kindness, lots of space. What comes up?
Noticing and allowing just as much as you can here of what is happening, what the inner responses are. Please don't project onto me, as the teacher, that I'm coming from some position here, that there's a right or wrong, or deep desires are better than superficial ones -- none of that; it's just not true. Is it possible to fully honour yourself and your truth, your truths?
Be playful with this. You might have to be very light and playful to make it work for you, make it alive. So permission to play. If you think you know what you want, you've always known what you wanted, and the same old answer comes, maybe check. See if it's still true.
One way to bring it alive, and possibly give a little more richness: to ask, "What did I want, what do I want, outwardly? And what did I want inwardly, in the inner life?" Does that open things up a little bit? Or perhaps splitting it into "What did I want to receive from life? What do I want to receive from life? And what did I want, what do I want, to give to life?" So perhaps asking two questions like that opens it up.
Caring for the heart with these questions, caring for the responses, caring for our life. So noticing: is it one thing that comes up that I desire? Or a few things? Or many things? Or maybe, doing this, I get some other feeling entirely. Just noticing, allowing. Noticing how you're relating to what's happening and what's coming up. How am I relating to these desires, these emotions, these thoughts? Just noticing.
[29:33] Noticing what the assumptions are, perhaps -- that it's better to have just one strong desire, or many desires, or no desires. If there are many, do some desires feel more important than others somehow? Can you feel into them? Find a way to make this work if it feels too heavy for you, too tight.
How does the body feel with a desire, or this particular desire? How does it feel in the body? What does it feel like? Really including the body. Noticing, allowing whatever comes up -- not just in the body, but in the realm of thought and assumptions: "This is good. This is not so good. This is right. That's wrong." Perhaps the mind says, "Such a thing would be impossible to attain, impossible for me to get. It would be suffering to have that desire." Or the mind might say, "I could never get that. There's no point wanting it." Or maybe the mind thinks at times, "I might fail." What goes with that?
Maybe sometimes there's the voice in the mind, "I don't deserve that. I don't deserve that thing, and I don't deserve to want that thing." Maybe that comes up. Maybe a fear of desiring. But maybe joy, somehow. Maybe love. Maybe energy or peace. Noticing and feeling everything, everything that comes. A caring connection with ourselves through questioning, through listening.
And lastly, in relation to any desire that's there, does it feel important that you reach that or get that? Would it matter if it didn't materialize? Would it be enough just to give yourself to it fully?
So staying connected to this caring for yourself, this kindness and warmth. You can open your eyes, or shift your posture, or whatever you like as we come out of that exploration.
[40:19, guided exercise ends]
So if the situation were different, and we had more time, and it wasn't a long solitary retreat, it would be very lovely and very interesting, also, to just hear a little bit how that was, and the different things that can unfold or be realized, experienced, and to hear a little bit from you. But because of this particular situation, we won't do that.
But I'm aware, I know, that it can bring up quite a range of different things and different experiences, and sometimes can be quite uncomfortable, that kind of exercise, or even overwhelming. Sometimes, in relationship to asking deeply "What do I want?", and looking into our desires, what we encounter is a sense of what we don't have, a sense of lack. That's something I want to explore in the next talk.
But all kinds of inner responses are possible there -- I'm well aware of that -- including joy. I don't know if anyone felt any joy with that. Anyone? Yeah? Good. But really, whatever it was, it's fine. I hope you could see that there was some point to that. And if it felt like there wasn't any point at all, well, it may be the kind of thing you might want to try again at some point on your own. A lot of potential in that.
I wonder if anyone ran into their inner critic at all. Did that come up for anyone? Really? No one's saying. [laughs] I'm going to say a little bit about it, because maybe people are not saying something. My experience is actually with that kind of thing, that's often what gets run into, the inner critic, this voice or character or constellation inside that is putting us down, berating us, criticizing us, etc. -- almost all the time, it can feel like in some instances, this inner critic. How quick the inner critic is to squash and ridicule and dismiss our desires, but especially our deep desires. It really wants to erase them, to destroy them.
A while ago -- I can't remember when it was; maybe a year ago, less than a year -- I was in an interview with a woman. She'd been on retreat on and off, quite a lot. She came in, and she said, "I realize, I'm getting clear" -- we hadn't done this exercise or anything -- "that what I really want is to serve people." She was probably in her late fifties. "I want to serve people." We were talking about it a little bit, and then she said, "But I realize I won't be able to. I'm incapable of that." And she gave a whole list of reasons -- well, her inner critic gave a whole list of reasons why she would be incapable. For instance: "I'm closed to people. My heart is closed to people."
What was interesting listening to her -- I know her relatively well -- is that some of what this litany of how she wouldn't be able to do that, some of that was actually relatively true. So it was true that she did close herself off from people, etc. But if I'm too quick to let the inner critic decide for me why I won't be able to do something, why I'm incapable of something, I don't give the desire a chance to grow. It's just like treading on a little shoot of a plant. I don't give it any desire to grow, and I won't see the effect of the desire growing. Maybe we need to protect desire sometimes, the way we protect a vulnerable young plant. Maybe, in that protection, we need to separate it out from the question or the idea of "whether I'll be able to accomplish this," "whether I'll be capable of." Maybe I just need to put that aside for a while. And likewise, keep it separate and put aside from "What exactly am I going to do? What exactly is going to come out of this desire?"
Maybe a desire needs to grow first. I need to nourish the desire, and from that, that will start affecting and informing those other questions -- whether I'm capable, what I'll do. Because when the desire is full, it influences how I will feel and respond and think about those questions. This woman in this interview, immediately, who does she bring up? Gandhi, Mother Teresa, Nelson Mandela, etc. What's that? What that really is is a measuring stick, a ruler, to just go whack, whack, whack, whack, whack. That's what that is.
She wasn't even moved; we don't even let ourselves be moved by the extraordinary examples of those kind of lives. Just using them as a measuring stick to make ourselves feel inferior. What happens if I let those lives touch my heart first, let that in first to the emotions? And again, maybe that, from the heart, works on the self-view, works on the sense of what is possible. When the heart is different, the conclusions are different. The inner critic inhibits desire, and deep desire, especially. But interestingly, as in so many of these things, it works the other way, too: desire inhibits the inner critic. The inner critic inhibits desire, but desire will inhibit the inner critic. What happens to us with all this? What happens to our spiritual aspirations? It may not be the case with you here. Because of the inner critic, what do I shrink back from?
Or the fear of failure: "I might fail." So often people say to me, "I don't want to do such-and-such a practice, or such-and-such a thing in meditation, because I might fail." What does it mean, what would it mean, what would I take it to mean if I failed? What would I take it to imply if I failed? Maybe it's okay if the fear of failure is there. What's the relationship with that fear? What's the relationship with this inner critic? Because together, all of us -- you, and me, and everyone else involved in all this, meditation and insight -- if in our culture together that fear of failure and that inner critic get too strong, what happens to the whole thing? What happens to the Dharma? What gets shrunk? What gets left out? So easily in our life, we shrink back our life energy. We hold back our libido, our eros, our love.
So in these kind of traditions, in the Dharma and other spiritual traditions, so very typical, as I was saying earlier, to hear, "Desire, clinging, craving, greed bring suffering, so drop them. Drop it." Let's just explore this a little bit, because obviously there's a lot of wisdom there. Can you look back at the past, at something in the past, some instance of something you really wanted, or someone -- a person, a relationship, a house, a car, a job, whatever it was? Something you -- "Oh, I really want this thing," and you didn't get it? And a little time goes by, and then it kind of feels okay. It's fine. Did you ever have that experience? [laughs] Of course you did! It was fine.
[50:23] I'll give you a really silly example. There's a reason I'm giving it. I think I was 19 or 20 when I started meditation. I had heard about this book. After a little while, I heard about this ancient text from India. I really, really wanted to get hold of this text. I thought it was going to have something for me in it about the meditation, etc. I looked for it. I was living in England, and I looked for it everywhere. I couldn't find it. No one knew where to get it. Then I moved to the States, and I was living in Boston -- the same thing. There wasn't Amazon.com, you could just google it and find this thing. It was actually really difficult, and going to all these antiquated bookstores, and walking through snowstorms and blizzards, and ... [laughter] Defending myself against polar bears, and ... [laughter]
It was really, really quite a hassle, this hunt for this book. And I didn't find it. Quite exasperating. I didn't find it. A little time goes by. My practice develops. I explore this, I explore that. And I totally lost interest in the book. Some years ago, someone actually gave me the book as a present. They didn't know that I was looking for it. And I'm not interested in it at all. [laughter] In fact, if any of you want it ... [laughter] It's completely not interesting to me. So I'm just mentioning that. I'll come back to it.
So I look at the past. I see I really wanted this thing. I didn't get it. A little time goes by -- it's okay. Or, you really wanted something, you did get it. You did get this thing that you really wanted. And then a little time goes by, and you realize it didn't quite give me the fulfilment and the complete satisfaction that I anticipated, either because it changed -- how it was, whatever it was -- or I and my desire changed. Have you noticed that ever? Of course you have. [laughter] Have you heard this kind of thing before? This kind of thing in teachings? You must have heard this. Come on, guys. You've heard this before, right? Of course you have. So I'm not going in that direction in these talks. You've heard it before. I'm not going in that direction. I want to go in a different direction.
That book, what was all that about? It wasn't the book that I wanted, this thing that I could hold in my hands. It wasn't the book. I wanted it because a large section of it was about what's called jhānas (some of you know this word), about deep states of meditative absorption and bliss and stuff. That's why I wanted the book, because I wanted the jhānas. I wanted to explore that. But it wasn't even the bliss that I wanted. If I look back and say, "What was I wanting?", it was the deepening of consciousness. I was hungry to explore the inner realms, and to discover something inside. That's what I wanted.
But I have a question with all that, and all that hassle that I gave myself looking for it and clinging to something. You might come up with your own example here. But the question is: in trying to follow a desire, and actually getting attached to a desire, is it possible that, through that, something is being carved out in the heart -- some space, some capacity, some depth that brings with it, as a fruit or as fruits, energy into the life, into the being? Hanging on in that way, through all the hassle, may bring energy into my life, into my heart. May bring a quality of determination. May bring devotion in the heart. May bring inner power. I don't mean power over someone else -- inner power. May bring dynamism, growth, a kind of soulfulness, a depth. All this might be carved out by clinging on to something that I really want. Maybe. And maybe conversely, not desiring, letting go of what I desire, maybe something in me gets disempowered, becomes weak (over time; I'm talking about years and longer), becomes flaccid or impotent, even, maybe, especially if I'm not desiring because there's fear of desire. Especially then, something will get disempowered in the being, grow weak, grow empty, if it's coming from fear of desire, or fear of desiring deep things -- for example, love.
Maybe I think, "All right. Should I follow everything?" If I just follow superficial desires, that, too, will bring a weakening in my being. You can look at this. You can see it sometimes in other people. You look at a person, and you see they've, over and over in their life, in lots of small ways, given in to the superficial desires. What happens to the being? What happens to the soul? What happens to the heart and the mind after years and years of that? Something gets weakened. Something loses something. What's the conclusion? Do I hang on to deep desires and let go of superficial ones? No conclusions today.
Sometimes we hear teachings, and again, it can sound great: "Let go of all desires. That's my practice, to let go of all desires." Too simple. Too unexamined. I can't. You can't. It's impossible. What will happen is subtle desires will remain. They'll remain unseen and un-understood. Actually, I want to explore that as part of the next talk, how to go into this in a much more subtle way. Maybe there's always desire. Maybe that's how it should be, and that's okay. So even the Buddha, after his awakening -- it was May in northern India, in the Ganges plain, and after his awakening he wanted, he desired, to share his discoveries. He walked -- if you look at the map, it's over 200 miles -- in that heat, so that he could share. And forty-five years after that. It says sometimes he's giving a talk, and he thinks, "Who here can understand?" And with his psychic powers, "Who here can understand?" And he would walk to different places seeking out others who could understand. This desire.
So as I said, no conclusions today and next week. Well, maybe some next week. [laughter] But maybe listening to all this, everyone in here has practised for a while, and going right back to the beginning, how easy it is to get -- without us even realizing it -- trapped in certain views that we don't even realize it's going on for us. Don't even realize. It's just what I'm in. So we have to be careful, all of us, myself included, as practitioners, that the path we're on is not shrinking something in me, not shrinking something in me that might be a blessing, that might be a gift.
Okay, let's stop there for today. And next week, it's not really a continuation; it's more like two different angles, exploration on this kind of infinite theme, really. Let's have a bit of quiet time together.
