Choosing Peace
If we want to make peace, with ourselves and with the world at large, we have to look closely at the source of all of our wars. So often, it seems, we want to “settle the score,” which means getting our revenge, our payback. We want others to feel what we have felt. It means getting even, but it really doesn’t have anything to do with evenness at all. It is, in fact, a highly charged emotional reaction.
Underlying all of these thoughts and emotions is our basic intelligence, our basic wisdom. We all have it and we can all uncover it. It can grow and expand and become more accessible to us as a tool of peacemaking and a tool of happiness for ourselves and for others. But this intelligence is obscured by emotional reactivity when our experience becomes more about us than about them, more about self than about other. That is war.
I have often spoken of shenpa, the Tibetan term for the hook in our mind that snags us and prevents us from being open and recpetive. When we try to settle the score, we cover over our innate wisdom, our innate intelligence, with rapidly escalating , highly charged, shenpa-oozing emotionality. We produce one hook after another.
What are we to do about that? We could say that this emotionality is bad and we have to get rid of it. But that brings other problems, because it's really the same approach as getting even with other people. In this case we're basically saying that we have to settle the score with ourselves, as it were, by ridding ourselves of emotionality.
Since this approach will not work, what we need to do is to neither reject nor indulge in our own emotional energy, but instead come to know it. Then, as Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche taught, we can transmute the confusion of emotions into wisdom. In simple terms, we must gain the capacity to slowly, over time, become one with our energy instead of splitting off. We must learn to use the tools we have available to transform this moment of splitting in two. Splitting in two is the moment when peace turns into war, and it is a very common experience.
Let's say you're having a conversation with someone. You're one with the whole situation. You're open and receptive and there and interested. Then there is a little shenpa pulling-away, a kind of uneasy feeling in the stomach -- which we usually don't notice -- and then comes our big thought. We are suddenly verbalizing to ourselves, "How am I looking here? Did I just say something stupid? Am I too fat? That was a stupid thing to say, wasn't it, and I am too fat. . . ."
Some thought or other causes us to split off, and before we know it we're completely self-absorbed. We're probably not even hearing the words of the person we're conversing with, because we have retreated into a bubble of self-absorption. That's splitting off. That's dividing in two.
The Buddha taught about this basic split as the birth of dualism, the birth of self versus other, of me versus you. It happens moment after moment. When we start out, we are "one-with." We have a sense of our interconnectedness, though we might not that fancy word. We're simply listening and there. And then, split! We pull back into our own worry or concern or even our own elation. Somehow we're no longer together. Now it's more about me and self, rather than them and other. By contrast, being "one-with" is neither about other nor about self. It's just totally open, present, there.
What are you grateful for today?
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