The Authentic Life (13 page)

Situations like this are often very messy, and there is rarely clarity about what we're actually believing. This is why it can be so helpful to ask, “How is it supposed to be?” When we see our own part, we realize that our anger was a direct result of having a particular expectation—in this case, that people
should
be trustworthy. Remember, the emphasis is on becoming free from our own conditioning—our angry reactions—not what may need to be done in our interactions.

If we don't clarify the mind, then each time we replay a thought, particularly of blame, it's like throwing a log on a fire.
Each thought fuels the fire of anger and makes it harder to get any clarity. This is why observing and clarifying the mind, including labeling our specific thoughts, is a critical step in working with anger.

S
TEP 4
: E
XPERIENCING

One of the most interesting aspects of the dilemma of anger is that when we're angry, we rarely actually experience what anger really is. We are either suppressing it or caught in expressing it, either in words and actions or in our thoughts of blame and resentment. Even when we express it and “feel angry,” we are unlikely to actually feel the energy of anger physically. To be truly present, we need to reside in the essence of anger itself. This is why we ask the question “What is this?” or “What is this moment?” It allows us to focus like a laser on the energy and physical sensations of anger, minus the thoughts. The thoughts may still be running through the mind, but as we observe and label them, thereby putting space around them, we can then specifically feel what's there.

Experiencing anger in this way is actually a quiet process. Even when the anger is explosive, once we refrain from fueling the heat of anger with our thoughts, we can experience it as just energy and sensations. We focus in on the heat, the tightness, the pressure. What does it really feel like? Again and again we have to turn away from the blaming and resentful thoughts, and again and again we return to the physical experience in the body. It is here that we can begin to quietly explore the layers of emotion underneath our anger—the hurt, grief, and fear. Each layer requires the same experiential process—clarifying the mind and feeling the sensations and energy in the body.

Gradually, as we let ourselves experience what anger really is, it begins to transform, and we no longer identify with the emotion as “Me.” We see that our most authentic self—our true self—is much bigger than the story of “Me” that we want to believe in.

It's important to remember and understand that experiencing anger in this way, by refraining from expressing it, is very different from suppression. Refraining is very specific: we're either refraining from thought patterns, such as our stories of blame and victimhood, or from our behavior patterns, such as lashing out or our addictive tendencies to escape. We refrain so we can actually feel what's there. When we suppress, we don't feel—we push the feelings down out of awareness. Suppression is often based in fear—the fear of being present with feelings we may want to avoid. Conversely, refraining is based in courage—the courage to feel what we may not want to feel, such as hurt, which may lie right below the anger. Suppression is the exact opposite of
experiencing
, and it is only by refraining from expressing our anger that we can actually experience it and put more space around it.

S
TEP 5
: L
ETTING BE

The final step in working with anger is to let it be. When we get angry at life or at a person, where we want to lash out or blame, letting be may not seem like a realistic option. The powerful energy of anger may not seem amenable to quiet observation, and we're likely to resist sitting in meditation and just feeling what's there. This is why, in order to work effectively with anger, we first have to experience a degree of remorse for our own unkindness—the unkindness that arises when we express
anger. It is also valuable to realize that when we get caught in anger, no matter how much we may feel that the anger is justified, the fact is that it is
we
who have lost sight of the path. It is we, when caught in the closed-heartedness of anger, who have lost our way.

Once we realize this, we are much more willing to decline the seductive call of blame and resentment—no longer using another's behavior to justify our anger. Instead we are willing to explore the experience of anger itself. This is how we learn to let the experience just be. As we let the experience just be, we can also explore our own unkindness toward the other, as manifested in our judging and blaming, our insistence on being right, and our elevating of ourselves and putting the other down. As we feel the remorse for our own unkindness more deeply, we may begin to see that the other did not intentionally mean to hurt us; it was just the unskillful act of someone in pain. From being present with our own pain, and letting it just be, we see that their pain and their struggle are no different from our own. This is how genuine compassion and forgiveness for ourselves and for others can arise naturally.

Letting be doesn't mean that we never take action. It does mean, however, that we don't act from the negativity of anger. Sometimes we might think that, in certain situations, we have to be angry in order to take action. For example, if we see an injustice, we believe that our anger is what pushes us to do something to remedy the situation. Yet from the point of view of practice, there is
never
a justification for anger, no matter how righteous we may feel.

Again, this doesn't mean that we shouldn't act; it means we can act without the negative aspect of our anger. When our behavior comes from the negative energy of anger, we are not acting from either clarity or compassion. We are more likely in
the grip of fear, where we make others the enemy; and when caught in this narrow sense of “self,” we have lost all sight of our basic connectedness. But as we enter deeply into practicing with anger, we can develop a sense of space around that narrow sense of “Me.” As our anger begins to transform, the energy of anger is redirected into a sense of resolve, without the negative overlay of anger. It is from this resolve that we can engage in life with both action and a sense of clarity and compassion.

A O
NE
-D
AY
P
RACTICE

One of the main difficulties in working with anger is that it often blindsides us, or arises suddenly right in the middle of messy and complex circumstances. At first, all we can do is to watch ourselves go through our familiar angry response. Hopefully we know enough to keep our mouth shut, to not cause further harm; or at least to apologize when the anger gets the best of us. However, it's possible to prepare for those situations where anger seems to go through us from out of nowhere.

I've been doing a practice for many years that I've found helps with this exact preparation. One day a week I devote the entire day to practicing what I call “Nonmanifestation of Anger.” From the moment I wake up until the moment I go to sleep, I make a conscious effort not to express negative emotions, either externally or internally. Because I'm attuned to not expressing the anger, the moment it begins to arise, awareness is likely to kick in; and it's become easier to catch that point where I would normally choose to believe my thoughts, which fuels the expression of the anger. Interestingly, in refraining from the thoughts, sometimes the anger quickly dissolves, leaving little residue. In fact, it's actually quite amazing to see that our anger is almost always optional. In other words, this one-day practice
helps us see what is possible: we can see that when anger arises, we have a
choice
, and that we can change our responses and behaviors.

Granted there are times when anger may arise very strongly, and it may not then readily dissolve, even if our choice is to refrain from indulging it. But if we make the effort not to let our thoughts get a toehold, and stay focused on feeling the physical energy of the emotion itself, the anger will often dissipate much more quickly than it normally would. This is especially true if we make use of the technique of breathing the energy of anger into the hara—a technique that is described in detail in chapter 5.

Even if the anger doesn't dissipate, there's another great benefit to this one-day practice of Nonmanifestation of Anger—we're much more likely to bring awareness to the root of our anger. Usually we're so caught up in the mushroom-cloud explosion of anger that there is little awareness of the fear out of which the anger often arises. For example, in the past, if someone used to cut me off on the freeway, I would usually react immediately with anger, sometimes even with rage. But since I've been doing this one-day practice, it's now much more likely that I'll catch a glimpse of the fear of danger that is right under the anger. It is only from repeated practice in refraining from expressing the anger that this deeper awareness becomes possible. Whatever else you get from this chapter, I strongly urge you to try this one-day practice of Nonmanifestation of Anger. If you do it one day a week for several months, regardless of the ups and downs that are inevitable with any new practice, it's very likely you will find that your relationship to your anger changes dramatically.

Along with this practice, we can continually keep in mind the five steps that help us work with our anger. First,
recognizing
it when it arises, including recognizing our typical patterns of reaction when we get angry, such as suppression, ruminating, lashing out. Second,
reframing
our anger so we don't see it as our enemy, but rather as our exact path to freedom. Third,
clarifying
the beliefs and expectations that are a setup for our anger. Fourth, bringing a focused awareness to the
physical experience
of anger itself—the sensations and energy. And fifth,
letting the whole experience just be,
which allows us to ultimately experience compassion for the pain that we all share.

Everyone struggles with anger—it's an integral part of the life of sleep, where we are often a slave to our mechanical reactions and behaviors. But it is possible to end the struggle and live a life that is relatively free from manifesting anger. It's not that anger won't ever arise, but rather that we'll be much less likely to get caught in it. What this requires, as much as anything, is the realization that we don't have endless time, at which point we can begin to truly commit to our life; that is, to living it as genuinely as possible. Living genuinely undercuts our narrow identification with “Me”—with my stories of entitlement, blame, and resentment. Resolving the dilemma of anger is one of the most satisfying fruits of a life of practice.

12

Saying Yes to Fear

F
ear is what drives much of our behavior, and at the same time it is the one thing that we least want to feel. When I first started spiritual practice, I had the strong expectation that practice would free me from anxiety and fear. I thought that if I studied and meditated, and struggled to change my behaviors, I could replace the undesirable parts of myself with a new, improved version of me—namely, I'd be free of anxiety.

Early on I decided to confront my fears directly whenever they arose, thereby hoping to amputate them. For example, I'd wear clothes that didn't look good in order to confront my fear of disapproval. Or I'd force myself to speak publicly even though I had a strong fear of public humiliation. One time, my teacher suggested I sing a song on Fisherman's Wharf in San Francisco. I made up a Bob Dylan–like song, bought a black derby hat, and went to the area where there were crowds of tourists waiting for the cable cars to turn around. I remember being so petrified I thought I might even faint or throw up. But I was determined to smash through my fear, so I sang my song and then begged for
money. After doing it several times it got increasingly easier, and I actually thought I had overcome my fear. But in truth, it was like cutting off a weed; the fear was temporarily removed, but because I had not gone to the root, it eventually returned.

This example illustrates two of the classic misconceptions about dealing with anxiety and fear. The first is seeing fear as the enemy, as a flaw within myself that I have to conquer. The second is believing that if I confront my fears and go against them, they'll go away permanently. There is also the more subtle version: if I have a deep spiritual practice, I can become free of fear altogether. It's understandable that we would hold on to these misconceptions, because we have so much aversion to feeling the discomfort of fear, and we'll do almost anything to avoid it and get rid of it. Yet it's also a fact that whenever we don't address our fear, we make it more solid, and consequently, our life becomes smaller, more limited, more contracted. In a way, every time we give in to fear, we cease to live genuinely.

What are we so afraid of? One of our most basic fears is the fear of loss of security, including the fear of disease and pain, as well as the fear of the loss of status and material security. We have a strong fear of powerlessness and loss of control, and for many, there is an equal fear of being controlled by others. There is the fear of abandonment and being alone, including the fear of the loss of loved ones. Another universal fear is that of unworthiness—of being found fundamentally flawed or not enough in some way. This is at the root of the fear of being criticized and the fear of looking foolish. And for some there is the fear of death, and maybe even more so, the fear of the suffering we expect will be involved in dying. For many people the strongest fear of all is the fear of fear itself.

Recent studies show that certain people are born with more sensitivity to external stimuli. You could say they have “thinner
skins” and are thus more prone to being vigilant to signs of danger. What this means is that some people are physiologically more likely to experience anxiety and fear, and that others, who are born with less sensitivity to external stimuli, are physiologically less prone to experience as much fear. If we are the type with a fear-based temperament, it's important to understand that this is simply an inborn trait. When fear arises, it doesn't necessarily mean that something is wrong. Or that something is wrong with us. Or that we need to do anything about it.