How to Train a Wild Elephant_ And Other Adventures in Mindfulness - Jan Chozen Bays [43]
I asked her to scan her body carefully and tell me what percentage of the body did not feel cold. After a few minutes she reported with surprise that over 90 percent of her body felt warm, or even hot. She realized that the 10 percent of her body that was cool was producing 100 percent of the fear. Later she said that a weight had been lifted from her mind, a fear that had lasted decades, and she was now able easily to tolerate different temperatures.
I once watched a passenger get into my car and reach over to turn on the air conditioner, before the car had even started. It’s like salting our food before we taste it. We live on automatic, trying to insulate ourselves against any discomfort before it even arrives. Then we lose the joy of potential discovery and the freedom of finding that we can investigate, and even be happy, within a greater range of experiences than we thought.
DEEPER LESSONS
A very important way to work with discomfort is to stop avoiding it. You walk right into it, and feel from within the body what is true. You investigate the discomfort, its size, shape, surface texture, and even its color or sound. Is it constant or intermittent? When you are this attentive, when your meditative absorption is deep, what we call discomfort or pain begins to shift and even disappear. It becomes a series of sensations just appearing and disappearing in empty space, twinkling on and off. It is most interesting.
In Japan the zendo, or meditation hall, is not heated in winter. The windows are open. It is just like sitting outside except that you don’t get rained or snowed on—much. During one February-long retreat I put on every bit of clothing in my suitcase, so many layers I could barely bend my knees to sit. My skin was so icy it was painful to let my attention rest on my exposed face or hands even briefly. During traditional Zen retreats you eat your meals in the zendo. While eating I had to look to see if the chopsticks were still wedged in my numb fingers. There was no way out of this discomfort. The only way to go was in, placing an unwavering concentration deep in my belly, in the hara, or center of the body. It was a powerful retreat and I understood why the revered Zen master Sogaku Harada Roshi insisted that his monastery be built deep in the snow country.
We spend so much effort trying to make external conditions suit us. However, it is impossible for us to remain comfortable all the time, for the nature of all things is change. This attempt at control is at the heart of our physical exhaustion and emotional distress. There is a Zen koan about this. A monk asked Master Tozan, “Cold and heat descend upon us. How can we avoid them?” Tozan replied, “Why don’t you go to the place where there is no cold or heat?” The monk was puzzled and asked, “Where is the place where there is no cold or heat?” Tozan said, “When it is cold, let it be so cold that it kills you. When hot, let it be so hot that it kills you.”
In this teaching, “kill you” means kill your ideas about how things have to be for you to be happy. It may sound odd, but you can be practicing mindfulness with discomfort or pain and be quite happy. This happiness comes from the pleasure of just being present, and also from the confidence that you are gaining—confidence that, with ongoing practice, you will eventually be able to face whatever life brings you, even pain, aided by tools such as mindfulness.
Final Words: When your mind says “too hot” or “too cold,” don’t believe it. Investigate the entire body’s experience of heat and cold.
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The Great Earth beneath You
The Exercise: As often as possible, become aware of the great earth beneath you. Become aware through sight and touch, especially the touches on the bottoms of the feet. When you are not outside, you can use your imagination to “feel” the earth beneath the floor you are on or the building you are in.
REMINDING