Finding Compassion in Chaos
Cultivating Kindness in the Unexpected Moments of Life
The spiritual path is tricky. Not because of the big words and complex tenets. No those things can be looked up, studied, memorized. I’m not talking about some convoluted explanation about the essence of being. Dependent Arising, Karma, The 4 Noble Truths, and so on are all just a quick Google search away. What I am talking about is the doing of the thing. The practice itself, everyday. There is no finish line, no destination. Alan Watts characterized it nicely when he said
Music differs from say, travel. When you travel you are trying to get somewhere. In music, though, one doesn’t make the end of the composition the point of the composition. If that were so, the best conductors would be those who played fastest. And there would be composers who only wrote finales. People would go to a concert just to hear one crackling chord… Because that’s the end!
Same way with dancing. You don’t aim at a particular spot in the room because that’s where you will arrive. The whole point of the dancing is the dance.
-Alan Watts
Practicing compassion isn’t the same as reading about it. Being kind means more than those 4 letters can express. The most difficult part of the practice is it doesn’t end. There is no clocking in. We don’t get to turn it off. Sometimes we are over-worked, under-prepared, and stressed to the hilt. Those are the moments when the rawness of life meets the things we tell ourselves about our own character. There is no “there yet”, it’s constant
As a child I remember my parents were loosely Christian. They, themselves, were victims of their respective religious grist mills. One a victim of Catholic school and the other a casualty of the southern Baptist brand of soul crushing conformity. We had Christmas, Thanksgiving, Easter and all that just like the other kids. As I grew older and developed my own interest in religion I began to notice inconsistencies. Like any other child I was curious and asked when I had questions. Both parents were of the “do as I say not as I do” ilk and questions about their ethics were simply not allowed or even entertained. They weren’t bad people simply not invested in their beliefs. Being seen as religious or at least religious enough was of grave importance. They were after the goal of looking the part. Reenacting what they had seen in a timely fashion was what they knew. They were looking for that finish line. They just wanted to get there. To them the display was the goal
Flash forward 30 or so years; I am discovering I am more “me” in line at the grocery store then on the meditation cushion. When I’m stuck behind the expired coupon holding, check writing, looking for the manager, Karen with main character syndrome. The patience I show to that person is the practice. The people who annoy me. The ones who, in my estimation, are undeserving of my consideration and compassion. That’s the opportunity. Those moments when I am tired, annoyed, and, numb. That’s where the practice happens. This is the “rubber meets the road” moment.
Or when in traffic, when I get cut off. I usually get upset. As though I’ve never done the same or a similar maneuver. What if: they were lost?, they got bad news today, there’s an emergency only they can help with. Even if they simply are a jerk with no consideration for others. Should I be surprised that a “jerk” acted like a jerk? That’s like being surprised to find a fish swimming
My parents did not exemplify this sort of logic or even lead me to believe it was possible. I learned from them to carry it all with me like bricks on my back. These metaphysical bricks are as heavy as they are useless. Serving only to darken my mental climate and sour my day and the interactions I have thereafter. I am beginning to see this is the practice. When stressed coming back to the values I profess to believe in is the whole practice.
Becoming embittered will not change the person in front of me. Carrying these things only builds contempt and anger in myself. Sometimes I even take out my frustration on others. I likely become the jerk in their story. Presumably they’ll go on to spread that same misery
The lady at the grocery store blocking the isle talking an acquaintance, the driver who cuts me off when there is a mile of open road behind me, the difficult patients at work, none of them are my enemy. In fact most of them will not stop to think of me again. I will likely not cross their mind again. Why should they occupy my mind. They are the practice. They are the opportunity to apply the practice. They are the opportunity for me to define, or redefine, myself by my actions.
Recently I finished Meditations by Marcus Aurelius and one of his meditations stuck with me. There are always going to be bad and cruel people in the world. What other actions would those people take other than bad or cruel actions? It’s not mine to pass judgement. I know that. What is mine to control is my behavior. How I choose to move forward. Not only in outward action but inward as well. This needn’t be metaphysical ideology or some abstract notion. It’s very practical and can be applied to life regardless of your ideology. Sympathy and empathy are 2 of the greatest marks of wisdom and no belief system has the market cornered on that.
Homework… if you wanna
The next time you are blown away by someone’s perceived lack of concern for others use your imagination. Think of at least one possible scenario in which the offender isn’t evil, lazy, cruel, negligent or whatever applies to your situation. Even doing so after the fact can be helpful. Forgiveness is an act of courage not the sign of a coward. Be brave, take a moment and compose yourself.