Using Intention to Center Ourselves

Centering Ourselves Through Recitation and Chanting

When we concoct stories* about what is happening, we take remembrances–pieces of previous meanings and value that we had assigned to stuff under similar circumstances–and form them into a story about what is happening now. This requires us to make what is happening now consistent with what we already know. Making the world consistent in this way means we create models, or modules, or contexts, that can be used to frame the story in a consistent way. These modules are the overarching intentions we have for viewing the world; they are our strongly help beliefs and values, norms and mores in sociological jargon.

If we want to move to the Middle Path, to live in peace and harmony with ourselves and our world, we need modules that point us in that direction. Metta prayers, chants and recitations are some of the most traditional and effective ways we have to do this.

Here’s a prayer, a short recitation, and a couple of chants that, when practiced regularly, will become the dominant perspective from which you see the world, burning off our old karmic leanings toward greed and anger and anxiety and establishing a mind of peacefulness and caring.

Shantideva's Prayer

May all beings everywhere


Plagued by sufferings of body and mind


Obtain an ocean of happiness and joy


By virtue of my merits.

May no living creature suffer,


Commit evil, or ever fall ill.


May no one be afraid or belittled,


With a mind weighed down by depression.

May the blind see forms


And the deaf hear sounds,


May those whose bodies are worn with toil


Be restored on finding repose.

May the naked find clothing,


The hungry find food;


May the thirsty find water


And delicious drinks.

May the poor find wealth,


Those weak with sorrow find joy;


May the forlorn find hope,


Constant happiness, and prosperity.

May there be timely rains


And bountiful harvests;


May all medicines be effective


And wholesome prayers bear fruit.

May all who are sick and ill


Quickly be freed from their ailments.


Whatever diseases there are in the world,


May they never occur again.

May the frightened cease to be afraid


And those bound be freed;


May the powerless find power,


And may people think of benefiting each other.

For as long as time and space remains,


For as long as sentient beings remain,


Until then may I too remain


To dispel the miseries of the world.

Reciting this as a part of one’s morning practice, several times a week if not every day, sets a clear and committed intention within us to reconceptualize the way we see the world from one of greed, anger and delusion to one of patience, compassion, and generosity. It sets a clear intention to reconsolidate our stories in ways that we move from a life of self-centeredness to a life of other-centeredness. It resets our intention to seek the well-being of others in everything we do, which lowers our blood pressure, coordinates our cardiac and respiratory systems, and makes us calm, clear-seeing loving people.

Short Recitation

A shorter prayer, which can be recited frequently during the day, whenever you feel any level of anguish from mild irritation to all-out anger, is the final verse of the prayer. Recited to yourself a five or ten times can quickly recenter you in altruism.

For as long as time and space remains,


For as long as sentient beings remain,


Until then may I too remain


To dispel the miseries of the world.

Chant

You can use either of the following chants as an overarching intention resetting tool, simply by chanting it over and over for 5 minutes a day once or twice a day, or for 10 or 15 seconds whenever angst arises:

I vow–with each and every act of body, speech and mind–to work solely for the benefit and well-being of others.

I vow to work tirelessly for the benefit of all sentient beings.

Much metta always!

* Concoctions, or stories, are the fourth of the five aggregates, often labeled volitional formations.

Know Peacefulness by Becoming the Smallest Person in the Room

I vow to be he smallest person in the room.

Humility and modesty are two on the short list of wholesome mindstates observed by Asanga, the 1^st century monk who watched his mind in meditation and then codified the workings into a book, the Abhidharma Samuccaya. Put another way, if you want to be peaceful, simply “make yourself the smallest person in the room,” as my teacher Master Ji Ru says.

This month, I will be blogging about three vows for the new year. “I vow to be the smallest person in the room” is the first vow; it is a vow to make humility and modesty our baseline. For a vow to be effective, we need to consider its implications intellectually, frequently chant it so it just comes to mind spontaneously to remind us of our intention to be this way, and to make a concerted effort to practice it, especially under difficult circumstances.

Let’s start with some basic definitions, then consider a few short exerpts about humility and modesty, and then let’s look at how to apply and practice these in our everyday lives. First, the definitions:

Humility is to depart from a position of gentle, non-assertiveness. It is a behavior or attitude or spirit that wholly lacks arrogance and conceit or any sense of self-centeredness or self-cherishing. It is being unassuming without being proud or feeling inferior. It applies to all that we do, say and think.

Modesty is to depart from a disinclination to call attention to ourself. Modesty involves observing proprieties, especially in speech, dress and comportment. It is avoid extremes through understatement in everything one has and does materially and spiritually.

Now some quotes:

Humility

Do not find fault with others. If they behave wrongly, there is no need to make yourself suffer.

–Ajahn Chah (20^th-Century Thai monk)

Humility and Patience

I think that there is a very close connection between humility and patience. Humility involves having the capacity to take a more confrontational stance, having the capacity to retaliate if you wish, yet deliberately deciding not to do so. That is what I would call genuine humility.

I think that true patience has a component or element of self-discipline and restraint--the realization that you could have acted otherwise, you could have adopted a more aggressive approach, but decided not to do so.

On the other hand, being forced to adopt a certain passive response out of a feeling of helplessness or incapacitation--that I wouldn't call genuine humility. That may be a kind of meekness, but it isn't genuine patience or humility.


–His Holiness The Dalai Lama

Real Humility Is Genuineness

Humility, very simply, is the absence of arrogance. Where there is no arrogance, you relate with your world as an eye-level situation, without one-upmanship. Because of that, there can be a genuine interchange. Nobody is using their message to put anybody else down, and nobody has to come down or up to the other person’s level. Everything is eye-level.

Humility in the Shambala tradition also involves some kind of playfulness, which is a sense of hum…. In most religious traditions, you feel humble because of a fear of punishment, pain, and sin. In the Shambala world you feel full of it. You feel healthy and good. In fact, you feel proud. Therefore, you feel humility. That’s one of the Shambala contradictions or, we could say, dichotomies. Real humility is genuineness.

–Chogyam Trungpa

And finally, practicing with humility and modesty, practicing being the smallest person in the room, requires thinking about these wholesome mindstates and then acting from them.

·       Behave without arrogance, conceit and other self-centered tendencies such as jealousy, envy and an impulse to show off. Behave in ways that reduce one’s sense of self-importance and that give no-fear by their very nature. (The giving of no-fear is one of the most important practices of generosity.)

Remember and Watch Out for The Three Conceits: I am better than you; I am equal to you; I am less than you.

Conceit is prone to arise when one is praised for some particular work or mental quality, usually by others but sometimes by self. Within limits praise from a knowledgeable person can be encouraging without becoming a defilement. The trouble is that too much praise, particularly if it borders on flattery, makes us proud and arrogant. The ego sticks out its chest and feels two inches taller; it has a delicious feeling of security and believes itself to be invulnerable!

This is the nasty sort of pride that the ancient Greeks called hubris; it was looked upon as an insult to the gods, and when the Olympians found a man suffering from it they unloosed Nemesis, the goddess of revenge, who brought him to death or destruction. I am not suggesting we kill everyone who feels proud, but just that we watch ourselves carefully so we can stay humble and modest without pride overriding those wholesome mindstates, which is pride’s tendency.

·       Respect others by having a compassionate interest in them, without a desire to please or to impress. This allows us to do what is appropriate without distortion or suffering. It also allows us to see that right speech, which is grounded in compassion, often leads us to be silent.

·       Relate to others without the need to make your understandings and opinions right and heard, protected or defended. Listen without the need to express and without the need to assert or protect and defend your understandings or opinions. The point of listening is not to express what we already know; that’s conceit. Ultimately, humility and modesty are teaching us not to process everything from a position of I-me-my-mine.

Modesty and humility allow us to walk through life calmly and peacefully, doing what is needed, reasonable and appropriate with discomfort or stress.

To make these virtues, these positive mindstates, into our default setting so they arise naturally without us having to activate them in the face of pride or conceit, in the face of self-deprecation or self-aggrandizement, we need to flood our mind with a commitment to humility and modesty. The easiest way to initiate this is through recitation, or chanting.

Set a timer for 10 minutes. Sit quietly for a minute or two, relaxing your body and mindfully watching your breath. Take long slow deep breaths. Then repeat, over and over, either out loud to yourself:  In each and every moment, I vow to be the smallest person in the room.

Do this once or twice a day, for several weeks, until you sense that humility and modesty are arising naturally in you at times when you might otherwise have become angry or arrogant or wanting your way.

Then make this an occasional practice. Perhaps chant it in the car for a couple of minutes to keep it fresh in your mind, or when you’re showering or brushing your teeth; anytime you are alone and not doing anything that requires much attention, just recite “I vow to be the smallest person in the room” a few times.

Making It A Thankful New year

Think “Thank You”

This is the time of year when we traditionally think “Thank you.” Often, though not exclusively, these thank you’s are for the material things we have gained. But there is a traditional kindness chant that can extend our thank you’s in profound ways, extend our thank you’s so that we ourselves, those around us, and the world in which we live feel our thank you’s in each and every moment.

For this practice to be effective, we must first believe that the chant is true and then chant it often enough so that it arises spontaneously when unwholesome impulses and temptations arise as well as when wholesome and beneficial events and conditions arise.

If we chant it enough times, it will arise spontaneously and seemingly of its own accord. But first we need to develop an airtight logical explanation for the chant. Actually, several lines of reasoning is better.

Here’s the chant:

Each and every living being is supreme kind to me.

This will only work if you believe it. No exceptions. This isn’t about an act being kind or not, it is about our perspective on that act. If someone gives me something I want, I can see it as kind in that it gives me the opportunity to be grateful and generous in receiving it. If someone does something mean to me, I can see it as kind in that it gives me the opportunity to be patient and to see beyond the superficiality of the act to the underlying suffering that motivated the person to act in that way.

Contemplating this, we discover several lines of reasoning we can use. One, regardless of what someone does to me, I can consider it kind because it is an opportunity for me to strengthen my practice and grow spiritually. If someone does something nasty to me, for example, I can see it as kind because it gives me an opportunity to practice patience. If someone does something particularly nice to me, I can see it as a kindness because it gives me the opportunity to practice humility and modesty.

A second line of reasoning suggests that our basic nature, everything that we think, say and do, is an attempt to end some level of suffering we perceive in ourselves. Understanding that everything we do is about ending some level of discomfort or suffering in us, we soon come to realize that everything everyone does is an act to end their suffering–not necessarily wise or well-reasoned–but an attempt to end their suffering nonetheless.

If all that “they” are doing is attempting to end their suffering, why would I view this as anything but an opportunity for me to practice compassion toward them. Nothing else would seem reasonable. This doesn’t mean I necessarily condone the act, just that my perspective is to see that they are trying, even if unwisely, trying through what they have done to relieve suffering and so it is kind insofar as it allow me to be compassionate under duress.

On a deeply spiritual level, being everything is inherently empty of meaning and value from its own side, I get to decide whether something done to me is good or bad by the way I choose to perceive it. Therfore, if I get to define “duress” in my life, then why don’t I stopped defining things as stressful find another perspective that makes them all as kindnesses?

Believing this chant gives me an outlook that prevents me from getting anxious or angry, fearful or threatened. And that outlook is the framework that my mind can use to stay stable in the face of difficulties, even very great difficulties.

If I can know deeply and understand the chant Each and every living being is supreme kind to me, my intention in each moment will have me do the very best I can with the conditions in front of me. Knowing that I always do the very best I can with what’s happening, I can remain calm with any event or outcome. I can stay positive and without recrimination and guilt when the outcome is other than anticipated. If the outcomes aren’t appropriate, then I can course correct, finding better and new strategies for dealing with the same or similar situations in the future.

Realizing this, that I had, and do always do my best, I remain patient, compassionate and generous, to myself and others. My self-image stays clean and clear and positive without arrogance or conceit. Further, when I generalize this to all other beings, when I realize that no matter how unreasonable or terribly someone may act, they are doing the best they can, my intention will reset me to being kind, patient and compassionate and generous.

Assuming I believe this chant, then I will interpret and filter new information from my senses though intentional structures that lead me to positive wholesome thoughts, speech and action. In fact, they lead me to see the world as a kind place, supportive of me who is making his best effort. The more I practice, the more grateful I become, the more thankful I am for being here, now, connected to everyone and everything.

When I realize that each and every living being is supremely kind to me, I become one with the cooperative underpinnings of the universe. I have no regrets. I have nothing but thank you’s. And the world has nothing but thank you’s.

For all of your readership, practice, and support this year, a deep bow of gratitude and a thank you.

No Regrets, Part 3

Living with No Regrets, Final Part of the Series

I have no regrets and the world has no regrets.

This is the third in an ongoing series

From part two of this series: First, we learn to understand that the information our mind is sending us is false and foolish, mostly pre-cognitive nonsense. Second, we learn to act in ways that make us mindful and aware instead of reflexive and reactive. And third, we commit ourselves to a regular meditation practice so that we can off-load four millions years of false stories (sankharas) that are driving us and the world to regret.

First, we learn to understand that the information our mind is sending us is false and foolish, mostly pre-cognitive impressions. Second, we learn to act in ways that make us mindful and aware instead of reflexive and reactive. And third, we commit ourselves to a regular meditation practice so that we can off-load four millions years of false stories (sankharas) that are driving us and the world to regret.

Our first step to a life without regrets is to not believe the story I tell myself that if I get more of those things that my amygdala likes and less of those it doesn’t like, I will be happy and all will be well in the world. Especially since we can readily see that (1) this doesn’t work–if it did, we’d already have succeeded, and (2) if it were true for me, then I would need to concede it as true for everyone else, which would leave us in such conceit and self-centered anarchy and chaos that we and the world would become nonfunctional nonfunctional.

We do this first step, the learning step, through study, contemplation, and meditation. Those three combine to send signals back to the parasympathetic nervous system to tell it to adjust and change. What do we study? We study sutras and commentaries, most especially on emptiness. There is a vast Buddhist literature on emptiness. If you have specific questions about how or where to access these, or where to find a teacher to guide you, please email me.

Second step, the interconnectedness step, we learn that there is a deep connection between what we do, between how we think about things and behave and whether or not we live in regret. The Noble Eightfold Path is the big picture. It provides the world view and understanding that leads to a life without regrets (right view and right intention); it provides the behavior guidelines, our main concern in this second step (right effort, right speech, right livelihood, right action); and then it enhances those with meditation (right mindfulness and right concentration) which leads to the wisdom that keeps our practice stable and alive.

One some levels, this is just learning the big picture, or the bigger picture, depending on our karma. On other levels, it is about developing the discipline to actuate these understandings and beliefs, which in my own practice usually is the more difficult task.

Step three, which is very closely related to step two, is developing a daily, lifelong mindfulness meditation practice. The single more effective tool for changing to a life without regrets is mindfulness meditation. Mindful alternate nostril breathing, which many students find to be the easier and most effective entry into mindfulness meditation, is also one of the most effective and fast-working tools we have for reversing the signal and telling the primitive brains centers that are controlling us to slow down and become aware of what’s really happening.

To be candid here, this needs to be more than a three-minute centering with a few deep breathe now and then when you’re feeling off kilter. It needs to be a daily practice; such as 10 or 15 minutes twice daily. It needs to be as part of the daily routine as brushing our teeth.

Just following one’s breath is the most common form of mindfulness meditation, but there are many others, and there are variations and modulations for each that can be explored so that your meditation leads you to a concentrated mind. Again, if you have specific questions about how to meditate or how to modulate your meditation to compensate for different levels or activity and stress in your life, or where to find a teacher to guide you, please email me.

Having lead a responsible and compassionate life with no regrets, when death approaches, as it does unfailingly in each moment and each life, we know how to respond–kindly and peacefully. 

No Regrets. Part 2

I have no regrets and the world has no regrets.

This is the second in a series on living without regret

The way the mind processes and allots information to us leaves us, and the world as we see it, filled with regrets–the “I should have done thats” “It would have been better ifs,” etc. The goal of our spiritual path is for us to have no regrets and for the world to have no regrets, not blindly surrender to the directions of the amygdala, that almond shaped mass in the center of our brain which makes us stressed and full of regrets. 

Our goal is to learn how not to be forced to surrender to the neuropeptides that the amygdala releases into our mind and body ramping up our stress and anxiety in a variety of physical responses and psychological responses and reflexes, all of which leave us with regrets. Our goal is to train our mind to process and allot information to us in ways that leave us settled and peaceful, with no regrets.

Understanding that this is what happens, and then learning how to stop it has been the work of Buddhist monks almost 3000 years. The most prominent monks who wrote and codified the workings of the mind so that we could understand it and retrain it for the benefit of all beings were Asanga and Vasubandhu, brothers in the fourth century. 

Today neuroscientists are starting to unpack how all this happens, “empirically” to use their word, to test what Asanga and his brother observed “subjectively” It is abundantly clear from both the “empirical” and the “subjective” sides here that our mind doesn’t function to make us happier and healthier, which is the way it presents itself to us, but rather to leave us regretting either not having enough of some things (the ones the amygdala attached an affinity to) or regretting getting too much of others (the ones to which an aversion was assigned). The question is no longer about the validity of the teachings; the questions is simply one of experiencing them in a way that allows acceptance: acceptance of the Two Truths, acceptance of the Five Aggregates, acceptance of the Four Dharma Seals, acceptance of Dependent Arising.

The goal of our path and our practice, which comes from this acceptance, is to live a life without regrets, to live a life in which the world too has no regrets. We do this in three ways. First, we learn to understand that the information our mind is sending us is false and foolish, mostly pre-cognitive nonsense. Second, we learn to act in ways that make us mindful and aware instead of reflexive and reactive. And third, we commit ourselves to a regular meditation practice so that we can off-load four millions years of fictional beliefs and stories (sankharas) that are driving us and the world to regret.

In a phrase, this is “changing our karma.” As we become practiced and successful at this in the short term, we gradually become more and more peaceful and less and less regretful. As we succeed in the long term, we end our karma, the negative and nonsensical thrust that pushes us forward. Although we don’t usually write in such traditional and blunt phrasing, the goal of our practice is to end regrets by ending our karma. Ending our karma simply means ending the ability of our sankharas to drive our behavior. Without the amygdala in charge we become present to what is really happening, fully engaged with the world as it is. We become open to whatever arises, with a warm and respectful heart. We are awake, mindful and aware, which is our true nature, and then it’s over.

A "No Regrets" Thanksgiving and New Year

I Have No Regrets, and the World Too Has No Regrets

As we give thanks and approach the New Year, consider this as a contemplative meditation: “I have no regrets and the world has no regrets.”

These words indicate the essence of the way we should practice and view the world.

As we go through in life we notice very very very little is as we might wish it to be, and this applies equally to individuals, to any particular social groups or organizations, to society and even to the world as a whole. Moreover, throughout history, human beings have always been embroiled in the profound dilemmas of impermanence: birth, old age, sickness and death; and of desires that lead us to ceaselessly harm others!

Although many heroes and saints and prophets have arisen to alleviate human suffering, still, in comparison to the vastness of human sorrow their efforts really amount to no more than a cupful of water poured on a burning building. Strictly speaking, our heroes and saints end up "dying before their ambition is fulfilled."

Rather than filling ourselves with ambitions and resolutions, consider instead committing to a year of contemplating: I have no regrets, and the world too has no regrets.

How so? Set a timer for 10 minutes. Sit down in a comfortable chair and quiet your mind with a few long deep but gentle breaths. Make the inhalation shorter than the exhalation. Allow your body to settle down and your back and bottom to become one with the chair. Then address yourself to the meaning of the contemplation: I have no regrets, and the world too has no regret.

Find a pattern in which you can think analytically about the contemplation. You might, for example, consider the meaning of the two clauses separately [“I have no regrets” and “the world has no regrets], then together. Or you might choose to parse the words: what are regrets, what does it mean to have no regrets; no regrets for me, for the world, what are the synonyms and antonyms for “no regrets,” etc.? Alternatively, you can parse by contemplating the meanings of the subjects of the clauses [ “I” and “world”] relative to the no-regret-statement.

Another perspective for the contemplation is through impermanence. Since we know that everything, even us ourselves, is impermanence and ever changing; since we know that nothing is autonomous or permanent or existing independently from its own side; since we know that, at the very least, stuff is simply not as it appears to us. Therefore, while there are conditions to which we need to respond, with wisdom and right action, there really are no problems! Since there are no problems, how can we have any regrets?

Familiarizing yourself with the five aggregates (skandhas) is another way of contemplating this: familiarize yourself with what each of the five is and does, how they sequence, and which are pre-cognitive and which are cognitive. This practice that can open up your heart with gratitude and welcome in the New Year with a roadmap for a better and more peaceful life, for you and for the world.

As the New Year approaches, consider committing to a practice, to a thoughtful and studied life, in which you can say, moment after moment, day after day, “I have no regrets!” and simultaneously and intuitively feel that the world is in the same boat as you: it too has no regrets.

Email if you have any questions or want more information on this practice.

Happy Thanksgiving and Happy New Year.

The Two Truths

The Two Truths

A Brief Philosophic Introduction

Regard all dharma as dreams….

The Two Truths is one of the most fundamental teachings in Buddhism today, and yet it is barely even mentioned in the early scriptures (the Pali Canon or the Agamas). It wasn’t until Nagarjuna’s writing in the 4^th century, a thousand years after the Buddha’s death, that the idea took hold. This is, perhaps, because The Two Truths is more an understanding about reality than it is a “teaching.” Or perhaps it was just that a thousand years was needed for Buddhism to develop so that conditions allowed it this teaching to arise. Whatever the reason, the more we learn about The Two Truths, the more we practice with and them realize them experientially, the less dukkha we create and the less suffering there is in our life.

The Two Truths explain that there are two levels of reality: the conventional and the ultimate. The conventional is the everyday world, full of objects and beings and ideas that all seem “true,” autonomous, and separate from us. This is the way our senses feed us information: I see the plant, I am here, it is there, I am independent and existent and substantial, it is independent and existent and substantial, we are each separate and autonomous and, at least at this moment, permanent. What I believe about the plant is true: if I think it is a good plant, it is a good plant. If I think it is too big for where it is placed in the hall, it is too big; if I then move it to the corner of the living room, it becomes too small. I don’t see that it can’t be too big and a moment later too small unless it is not really permanent and substantial.

The ultimate truth is the more profound (deeper philosophic) understanding that all things are things are impermanent, interconnected (dependently originated), non-self (empty of any inherent nature). The ultimate nature of things, in a word, is emptiness. It is things as they are, before we reify them, before we impute them with a concrete, independent, material existence; before we assign them meaning and value–good/bad, too big/too small.

You can’t have one without the other, ultimate without conventional, though it often seems that way when we begin to learn about these two truths. In fact, the learning process takes us from thinking each of these two truths is independent to understanding the two operate together, to finally realizing that they are one.

Philosophically, by positing that there are two levels of reality, we are suggesting that there is something which is sub-dividable, something that can be categorized in two ways.

So you can ask yourself, "What are we sub-dividing?" and the answer is “a knowable object.” Here, a knowable is simply something that is existing. To exist means to be knowable, and to be knowable means to exist. But not everything that “is known” exists.

In fact, just because it is “known” doesn’t mean it exists. I could fabricate the idea a rabbit with antlers, a jackalope. Taxidermists in the West often create these trophy animals for the amusement of their customers and to poke fun at “city folk.” I could fabricate this awareness, and in that sense rabbit's antlers are something known, but they certainly don't exist. And to someone caught in the joke, jackalopes are just as real as if they did in fact exist in the prairie.

When we equate things that exist with things that are known, we mean that they are known by a valid awareness, a valid conventional consciousness. Obviously, this can be tricky. Our obligation, therefore, is to see as clearly as we can so that our awareness is as valid an awareness and as correct a conventional consciousness as possible. We should also note that validity is not determined by the number of individuals who might believe something or claim an awareness of it: even though the Greeks and later the Alexandrians has accurately measured the circumference of the earth, from the time of Christ until Columbus, Europeans chose to believe the world was flat.

So if a person makes a statement that mirrors reality, then that statement is true. If it does not mirror reality, it is a lie. “Lie” is a very strong word. One could instead say it is a “fiction.” But “lie” is important to use because lying to ourselves about the nature of reality is the source of all our suffering.

Our biggest baddest lie is that we and other things are permanent, autonomous, and exist inherently; that we are independent and separate from everything else, which is independent and separate from us. When I look at a tree, I say to myself: “I see the tree.” The way the mind processes that sense contact, it presents the information to me as if there is a me that is separate and autonomous and a tree that is separate and autonomous. Believing that, believing that we are separate and autonomous, believing that there is Someone or Something, is the big lie, and the source of all our suffering.

In fact nobody or nothing, anywhere, has anything that inherently makes it what it is. Nothing has its own personal mark. Everything exists simply through language, through ideas.
 The absence of something, the total absence, the total not-being, non-existence of anything that is not there through the power of language and thought is, emptiness, the ultimate truth.

So far this has been a serious, if partial and introductory look at the meaning of The Two Truths. So why is this concept so important? What does it mean on an everyday level?

1. Not understanding The Two Truths means we believe the information that is coming at us is complete and true. We believe that our perception of the world is correct; we believe our stories about these experiences are true. So we act from that place with confidence causing ourselves more and more suffering.

2. When we act from a wrong perception, and invalid conventional consciousness, or a limited perception; when we don’t see clearly that there is a conventional world and an ultimate reality, we cause a vast network of interrelated problems to arise, we cause ourselves to suffer.

Practicing with The Two Truths

Not Believing What Our Mind Tells Us

The simplest and easiest tool to apply The Two Truths to our everyday life is to simply remember not to believe anything our minds tell us. If my mind tells me I should be upset because there is a ding in the door of “my car,” I need to recognize that there is simply a chip in the paint on a piece of plastic and that it might need to be repaired, but not believe stories I have created about it: “This always happens to me,” as though some force of the universe conspires against me and my car to make me upset, or “I hate it when people are so dishonest that they don’t even leave a note when they ding your car door,” which assumes they even knew they had dinged the door, which might not be true, and assumes that they planned to do it to me, which is nonsense, they don’t even know me; or “The door is ruined; I’ll never be able to afford to get it fixed,” etc.

These stories appear to be known, but in fact are lies because they do not mirror reality.

Yes, there’s a chip in the paint; yes, it might need to be repaired at some point. But we don’t need to define it as a personal problem or as an assault against us personally.

Simpler said than done? Not really; not once you have practiced it for a while. In fact; it is easier done than said.

Laughing At Our Stories

Another perspective on this practice is simply to notice when you are getting irritated or annoyed or upset or angry or depressed and to ask yourself, what story is causing me this dukkha now? In the example of the ding in the car door, the story is: my car door should never get a ding, it should always be as pristine as it was the moment I bought it. Other people can get dings and scratches, that’s ok, but not me. All our stories, if we are seeing what is really happening in our minds, as silly and self-centered. Seeing this, we can laugh at the story, and that laugh takes all the sting out of it.