Where's the love and how do we send it?

I gather with a community of trusted friends to explore how to relate to personal experiences using the inspired stories of wise others. Recently, I was struck by the various ways we reflect, respond, and connect.

We can learn from each other when we share our responses to questions. Our responses vary! One reason they do is that we have different personalities that affect how we relate to the world. 

Here's an example. 

This half-minute video came up on my iPhone yesterday as a memory from seven years ago. Two young boys and their mom send well wishes.

One child easily leans in to respond to his mom's request to send love. His brother, who relates to the world in another way, cannot fathom where love resides specifically and, if he did know, how it travels through the phone to Texas, where I was living. 

"Something's missing! Where's the love, and how do we send it?" he asks.

I can hear a favorite teacher respond, "Good question," before showing one of thousands of ways to recognize and understand our innate nature of loving-kindness and compassion.

The awful isn't us

Gargoyle, photo by Terry Barrett, Italy somewhere

I sat in my chair reading about the concept of causes and conditions after finishing a 6-week course taught by Pema Chodron. It’s not a new concept, and I was feeling a bit arrogant, sort of like I know this, but then I read:

When you feel you are being harmed by someone, remember that the harm that person may be inflicting on you (or someone dear to you) is the direct result of you yourself having harmed others in the past (p. 156).

That made me pause. 

I felt something shift inside of me. For a long time, I've understood the karmic concept as causes and conditions. But when I read those words, I personally felt their meaning. I suddenly saw—no, I felt—my deepest challenges as a larger understanding of the difficulty and that hurting people often hurt others from a place of unresolved pain. Like coming up for air after being underwater to the point of drowning, I let out a wail. In my wail, I thought, "I must have been a tiger who ate children." The thought was not literal. It was an unfolding understanding. 

I had just learned of the alligator that took a boy from the shore at Disney World in Orlando while his parents watched. In reflection about that event, I saw myself as the alligator.

Having once lost my boy swung like a pendulum to me hurting others. (Stay with me here, I'm not implying punishment.)

In the middle of the night, I felt gripped by emotive pain. I went to my cushion.

For hours, I alternated sitting with my feelings and breathing in my own pain and the pain of those parents. For each breath, as instructed so many times by wisdom teachers, spontaneous connection and comfort rhythmically arose. I breathed in pain and breathed out tenderness to the hurt and the hurters. My sob-breaths softened as I better understood a myriad of causes and conditions coming together to create something - and then their dissolution. 

No matter what comes along, we're always standing at the center of the world in the middle of sacred space, and everything that comes into that circle and exists with us there has come to teach us what we need to know. - Pema Chodron

I remained sitting till a glimmer of dawn.

The uncomfortable feelings melted and passed. Loved teachers felt nearby.

This seems incredulous, but I felt a connection and compassion for that alligator and all those who hurt others because of ignorance. I understand a bit more about the pain of being consumed or caught in the insatiable consumption of thoughts and emotions as if spinning in a gerbil's wheel. I better understand that within all of us is innate goodness and a great capacity for learning, growing, and capabilities: patience, tenderness, generosity, kindness, love, and compassion. 

I am hurt and I am a hurter. From a larger view, all of us are the child, the parents of that child, and the alligator.

With gratitude for this breakthrough, I have more clarity about what it means to be patient while learning from tough experiences and the commitment it takes to become less reactive without being overcome by anger, hatred, and despair. Sitting with feelings as they are, allowing and letting them be, and eventually analyzing them brings insight into the causes and conditions of awfulness. It seems unfathomable to me, but because of this insight, my mind and heart soften towards all. Even those who shoot, run over, bomb, and behead. 

It is possible to use awful, painful experiences to understand ourselves and others and, perhaps, eventually realize that the awful isn't truly us.

This post was written July 17, 2016