saying, “Having a believed thought that life should be comfortable.”
Although we might label it a hundred or a thousand times, at some point we see that even the most stubborn thought is not necessarily the truth about reality, but just a thought. We might also see that this particular thought has been silently directing our behavior. Here we become aware, where before we were blind. Our blind spots are blind by definition, but with the meticulous application of thought-labeling, the light of awareness begins to clarify the once unseen beliefs that have dictated many of our unskillful behavior patterns.
We often don’t realize the extent of our own blind spots, how we don’t know ourselves, and all the havoc we create—the unending havoc—with both ourselves and others. We can know all about practice. We can know all about the techniques. But sometimes we underestimate the relentlessness and the honesty that are required to really face the fears out of which all our blind beliefs and behaviors arise.
The problem, in a way, is that we know too much. We certainly think too much. We often talk too much. It’s very easy to have knowing, thinking, and talking replace the hard work—the often painful work—of genuine practice. Not to say that practice has to be a dark and grim task. The more honest we are at looking at ourselves, at seeing through our blind spots and cover strategies, the lighter we become. Why? Because in becoming more aware, we can give up our unnecessary baggage—the self-images that we cling to, the pretenses, the someone special we think we need to be.
The first time I met Joko Beck was in a formal interview at a retreat, and I was anxious about how to relate to a famous Zen teacher. I sat down and told her my name. She asked me, “Where are you from?” I immediately froze in fear; I thought she was asking me the ultimate Zen question. When I answered “I don’t know,” she burst out laughing. She meant “Where did I live?”! I had come in with so many assumptions—about what Zen was, what a famous Zen teacher would be like, who I was supposed to be—and it never occurred to me toinspect these pictures. Because I had not yet learned the value of labeling thoughts, I bought into my pictures as uninspected truths. Since then I have seen time and again how crucial this basic practice of thought-labeling can be in clarifying the countless layers of illusions that silently run our lives.
But sometimes we forget that this process takes time and perseverance. Sometimes we forget about all the basic training we must do, not just in the beginning but throughout the practice life—about how often we have to repeat our efforts, such as with thought-labeling.
Thought-labeling is a primary tool in helping us to see the holes in the Swiss cheese for what they are. As we break our identification with our beliefs, we no longer call them “me.” And as we stop believing in each little hole, we relate increasingly from the clarity of the bigger whole. But we must realize that thought-labeling does not come naturally or easily. The precision, honesty, and perseverance required to do this practice meticulously may take years to develop.
Clarifying our belief systems is about becoming aware. But this approach is just part of our basic practice. The second approach, which is equally essential, is more difficult to describe clearly. This second approach can be called experiencing . What experiencing is we will touch on throughout this book, in a variety of contexts. Essentially it’s an awareness of the physical reality of the present moment. In part it’s an awareness of the sensations in the body, including—but not limited to—the sensations of the breath; it’s also an awareness of environmental phenomena such as sounds, sights, and smells.
To get a taste of this, become aware right now. What do you feel in your body? Where are your strongest sensations? Pick one sensation: specifically how
Alyse Zaftig, Meg Watson, Marie Carnay, Alyssa Alpha, Cassandra Dee, Layla Wilcox, Morgan Black, Molly Molloy, Holly Stone, Misha Carver