Ever Beginning

Abstracted watercolour figure with each limb in a different colour. The colours blend spontaneously, messily.

Mother. Watercolour by Rami Schandall, May 2020.

A concept I embrace in my ongoing exploration of buddhist meditation practice is the notion of "beginner mind." Forever and always, we are new to this moment. There has not been one just like it, ever before. This is true now, was yesterday, and will be tomorrow.

Can we remain curious and open to newness, and to our inexpertise? This is a challenge when we feel stagnant or bored. It can be a challenge also when we are frightened or anxious in the face of uncertainty. Mindfulness practices are one way to train. In practice, again and again, we settle our bodies and minds enough to become aware of the state of "now." We can ask, each moment, what is this?

We can practice to recognize and acknowledge the truth of our situation, without denial or grasping. We can bring our deepest attention to the inquiry — what is this? With an attitude of respectful, curious awareness, we are open to insight. We might also discover that the conditions we find ourselves in are not "me," and they are not "mine," though our minds tend to want to own (or disown) all of it. 

In recognition and acceptance of what is, through inquiry, and not identifying with conditions and outcomes, we are free. Free to come home to the underlying composure and grace that exists beyond never-ending change.

I am thinking also about compassion. 

“No matter how hard we try, we can’t make ourselves feel compassionate. But we can incline our hearts toward compassion. [...] we will find that compassion is not a state. It is a way of engaging with the fragile and unpredictable world.” *

I hear from gentle and conscientious friends, a refrain of "not enough." As if their efforts, their passions, their abilities are inadequate to the responsibility they feel. It does not matter what the task at hand is, nor how great the strengths and abilities of the questioner. This sense of not-enoughness chips away at us, particularly when others are suffering, more; when we are conscious of great and grave need. 

There are humble practices we can bring to our toolbox to support compassion “out,” and compassion “in.” May we find more ease as we explore mindful self-compassion, and strengthen our capacity to engage the world with an open heart. 

It’s so lovely to practice together.

* I recommend this nuanced writing by Christina Feldman in Lion's Roar this month, on compassion and the figure of Kuan Yin: “She Who Hears the Cries of the World."

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Inclining toward Compassion

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