I often struggle with what is the “right action” I am supposed to take in any particular situation. When too much of my thinking mind wants to lean more towards less risk, stronger boundaries, protections, more worries: my actions are taken more from a fearful standpoint. I think, “I can’t possibly do that, it would be a disaster, everyone will laugh at me, or I will simply fail and be ruined”. Acting too much from my heart wants to let go and trust that everything will be okay: I can jump in quickly, forgive too easily, ignore my needs in favor of excitement or peace, and overlook the signs that can alert me to dangerous territory. “Oh, they must not have heard me, they didn’t mean anything by that, they have a lot going on, I can let this go, I can take care of this for them. I can do more to fix this.” And finally, if I just take the stance of the witness, detached and simply observing, I can get really wrapped up in complex interplay of causes and conditions, watching from a cold and impersonal height, and never act because the show is simply “extraordinary” entertainment.
In fact, I have spent large periods stuck on one of these perspectives or another, times where I have been wholly guarded by fear, or others where I am acting impulsively to hurry on to the next thing and the next thing and the next thing, and still others where I am simply transfixed on what’s happening “out there” or “to me”. The wisdom gained from these periods has been hard earned. I am pretty sure some of this sounds familiar to somebody out there…
The middle path between these actions, is winding, constantly changing, and I am just now really starting to grasp the consequences of this truth. I cannot “find the answer” that will apply in all situations. There is no such thing. I have referred to this as my struggle between acceptance and denial. When I am too fearful to accept, I am locked up in a prison of my own making, too fearful to live fully. When I deny the truth that nothing is ever perfect, I am lost in denial of my responsibility to act wisely, advocate for my real needs, and I enter the realm of delusion, of fantasy.
The Buddha discusses this exact dilemma, in the Anguttara Nikaya, which is a hefty collection of early discourses. He likens the practice of refinining the mind to the work of a goldsmith, constantly refining the gold until it is finally free from impurities and thus “quite pliant, workable and bright”. This initial purification is a result of devoted practice, and requires work. But the work does not stop there. He continues:
“Having completed this initial purification, a follower of the way devoted to practice should from time to time direct attention to three qualities of mind. The practitioner should from time to time pay attention to the state of concentration, the state of energetic effort, and the state of equanimity.
If one gives direct attention exclusively to concentration, ones mind may fall into indolence. If one directs attention exclusively to energetic effort, one’s mind may fall into restlessness. If one directs exclusive attention to equanimity, one’s mind will not be concentrated on overcoming fetters and attachments.
But, if, from time to time, the practitioner pays attention to each of these qualities, the pratitioner’s mind will be pliant, workable and lucid.
[The goldsmith takes the gold from the furnace], and from time to time blows on it, from time to time the goldsmith sprinkles water on it, and from time to time the goldsmith examines it closely. If the goldsmith were to blow on the gold continuously, it would be heated too much. If the goldsmith continuously sprinkled water on it, it would be cooled. If the goldsmith were only to examine it closely, the gold would not come to perfect refinement.”
The point is that this is a meticulous process, through which the gold can then be fashioned into anything the goldsmith wishes. Meticulous to me means: it’s gonna take a really long time. This allows me to be patient and kind to myself when I fall short of my sometimes RIDICULOUS expectations of myself. Yes, I am a recovering perfectionist.
The process of meditation allows me this careful, meticulous tending and observance of this gold, this mind. It is not the end in itself. Mind is the gold. Awareness is the goldsmith. The artistry and products of this practice are nothing short of life, itself. I guess meditation, in this analogy, is the practice – the evermore honed skill of the goldsmith. I like this. And even refined gold itself is not the end product.
It is the limitless variety of beautiful things that can be created with it.
This understanding, now deepened with this goldsmith analogy, allows me to return, over and over to my practice of meditation. In the beginning of establishing my practice, mind could create many things, some beautiful ,some that cracked and fell apart with use, some too squishy to be used at all – only for show. With time, and as my goldsmith skills improve, aka awareness is present, the craftings have become so much more intricate and detailed. Stuff I’d happily give away because I am truly proud of it and I know I can make it again and again and I am so excited to share. And I know these skills will improve… always. As long as I practice.
That’s a pretty powerful motivator.
So, when I am restless, I will cool myself with concentration. When I am sluggish, I will add in some more work, challenge myself, heat up that furnace a little. And, when the time is right, I will learn to step back and examine my work, just enough to know what is the next right action.
And I will surely make something beautiful and durable and useful out of this life.
