The Hard Edge of Impermanence

In these days of turmoil, change seems more tangible than ever.  It is in the air. The war in Ukraine, COVID and global climate change come to mind.  One has to question the fundamental nature or purpose of our world, where a nuclear holocaust could be triggered by just one individual, where vaccination inequality and stupidity prolong a pandemic, or where myopic economic goals are likely to result in a horrific environmental future.  There are many facets to these kinds of traumatic events, including different time scales on how they impact or might impact individuals and society at large.  When you are on the direct receiving end, prevention is too late and it is simply an act to stay alive and if possible to thrive later.  For those not directly impacted (for the time being) it is a question of how to respond healthily to these horrific and often overwhelming.  And how does it work in a spiritual practice? Reacting, by placing blame, or hating, does not seem to be the answer, as it will likely lead to further fractionation and tribalism. The source of this world’s woes is rooted  in time immemorial —  dancing  waves of different amplitudes and varying source vectors, interfering and interacting with each other, sometimes creating the “perfect” storm. 

What I call the hard edge of impermanence are those events that push us to a very uncomfortable place, and sometimes to our limits.   There are a couple of classic and useful spiritual books  on coping at times of maximum stress.  These are Pema Chodron’s book, When Things Fall Apart and Tara Brach’s Radical Acceptance.  I highly recommend these reads.  If read and then abandoned  on a shelf, they are just more “self help” books, but both contain much wisdom and are potential vehicles for positive change, if the teaching is practiced.  They offer tools to work with emotions and potentially destructive feelings.

Both books have a core message:  Don’t be so hard on yourself and accept life with a softness. Why? Because we are products of our conditioning from time immemorial, physically and mentally. Many things are simply beyond our control and we fail to see the interconnection of life through tunnel vision of an ego, a “little self.”    By opening up to our self-judgment, feelings of unworthiness, or to our horrible situations– by embracing them with stark honesty, we are instructed that we can not only lessen the grip of the particular hard situation, but we can also unfold to the world with compassion and loving kindness.  Both authors emphasize that by ending the mental struggle we can throw off self identification with our suffering, anger and other negative emotions, which in turn tills the  ground for growth of wholesome actions.  These actions, if undertaken by enough of us, or even just that right person, can literally prevent wars and much unnecessary human suffering. There is the story about  a Tibetan yogi, Milarepa, who invites the demons of delusion in and realizes that they are simply mental constructs (see Inviting the Demon).  But even after making peace with the demons there is still the matter of the mystery of existence. In Buddhism it is called beginners mind or great doubt (nice piece by Zen master Boshan). 

Humans are continuously trying to make sense of the world, either consciously or unconsciously.  Despite advances in tool technology,  the universe is still about 95% unknown, many aspects only inferred, and labeled as dark energy and dark matter;  the term, dark, meaning unknown. Why does the world offer both cruelty and beauty?  Creation and destruction, positive and negative, are fundamental forces.  There is birth and death, not just of sentient beings but of whole planets, suns and even galaxies, not to mention perhaps the whole known universe.  For the world of matter, as we know it, and existence, as we experience it, would not be possible without both creation and destruction.  This life would also not be possible without change and without time and space.  Maybe the ancient Hindus got it spot on with Brahma the creator, Vishnu the preserver, and Shiva the destroyer.  Is this creation and destruction just a signature feature of a cold and indifferent world? But then again, this is an amazing and rare planet teeming with life and offering many beautiful sights.  In night satellite view urban lighting marks the earth’s landscape. Harder to see are the flashes — little sparks of goodness, kindness and compassion that many people around the world exhibit.  That counts a lot.

Life right now seems to be a test for many of us, and I as well, feel located at a crossroad.  This is a point between the old deluded self, who was not so kind and a different self, leaning toward acknowledging the possibility of the basic goodness of all life, in a world that often seems to go against that grain. I am uncomfortable  using the term spiritual warrior, but let’s face it, our egos kick our butts most of the time. It takes resolve and courage, and help from others, working together, to persist and to face our demons and hard situations.  

It used to be that all I wanted in my spiritual practice was to gain self realization, also called awakening or enlightenment.  While an aspiration for solving this great matter goes hand in hand with the spiritual journey, the present work, and only work available at this moment, is right here and now on this planet, using one’s body and one’s actions —not striving for some conceived happy place. It is about making  wholesome choices that soften the hard edge of impermanence for oneself and thus, others.  This is the path of the Bodhisattva. There are many good people on this earth that don’t necessarily have an active spiritual practice, yet in essence they too are bodhisattvas when they act out of kindness for others and the planet.  My practice does not make me special.

In the Heart Sutra it states that emptiness, also called sunyata, equates to form.  All that ethereal magic of emptiness is, in essence, the reason why we cannot think ourselves to enlightenment.  Spiritual work is a messy and often difficult undertaking. We are so aptly reminded of this by one of Dogen’s (Soto Zen founder) most often used phrases: “skin, flesh bones, and marrow.” He calls these things mind, but then he also calls them for just what they are.  In Rinzai Zen practice, there are a number of koans where the student does not “get it right,” and at that point they are reprimanded with a sharp pull on the nose by the master.   Sometimes we need a sharp pull on our noses to get back to the path and be kinder to ourselves and each other, especially under adversity.

Leave a comment