Bringing a New Kind of Wisdom Into 2023

When I think of wisdom, I tend to think of the things I’ve learned and know. But wisdom from a mindfulness perspective is different. Mindfulness says that wisdom is about realizing we’re going to hit bumps in the road and that’s ok, hard times (and good times) aren’t forever and that's ok, too,and even though we keep turning our hearts and minds towards kindness, generosity, patience, and compassion, in the end nothing is personal and that's ok, too.

We’re all just doing our best, together, in this unfathomable world. That’s my best shot at a synopsis of the Three Characteristics.

Transcript

Wake Up Call #378: Bringing a New Kind of Wisdom Into 2023

Hi everyone, it’s Judi Cohen and this is Wake Up Call 378. Happy 2023!

Let’s circle back to the paramitas, or perfections, of mind. When we left off, it was about the fifth paramita, or perfection, of meditation. I know there’s much more to explore about the perfection of meditation, and maybe I’ll come back to it. But today I want to poke around in the perfection of wisdom, or understanding: prajnaparamita.

In classical mindfulness – in the earliest understanding of mindfulness, before Zen invites a bigger, more expansive view (as I understand it), prajnaparamita is about understanding what are called the Three Characteristics. Let’s start there and then move outwards into a more expansive, imaginal realm – as Norman Fischer invites us to do - over the next few weeks.

The Three Characteristics are just that: the three immutable characteristics of being human, of being alive in the world right now – or at any time in the history of humanity at least as we know it. In the Pali language the Three Characteristics are: dukkha, anicca, and anatta. In English, those three translate as suffering or stress, impermanence, and not-self or emptiness. 

Dukkha – suffering – stress: understanding that dukkha is part of the fundamental characteristic of life doesn’t make things sound very fun! Why would we want to have that kind of focus? Why focus on suffering and stress? Aren’t we trying to avoid those, or get rid of them?

Yes and no. Dukkha, you might recall, is also the First Noble Truth: there is suffering in life; or, there is stress in life. Sometimes the texts say to think of it as a wheel that is out of true. We go along in our lives and sure, there are times when everything seems to be running smoothly. But then something happens and, bumpety-bump, we’re hobbling along on a misshapen wheel. Something happens that we don’t want to have happen – something small like we’re late and the train isn’t coming or the car won’t start, or something big like we break a bone or someone we love gets sick or dies. Dukkha – it’s the nature of life. 

To understand, to have a little wisdom around, dukkha, is to see it, as Kabir the poet says, “in the tiniest moment of time.” To see suffering in the text we miss when our phone’s on silent, the tongue we burn on our tea: to watch and see how life is really full of these moments…and to make peace with them. 

Ruth King, one of our great Western meditation teachers, suggests we think of dukkha as, “nothing is perfect,” which I find…perfect. Because it’s the truth: nothing is perfect and we can make peace with that. And that’s the good news of this first characteristic: we can make peace with the imperfection of life. Stop stressing over its imperfection. Stop stressing over the stress. Just learn to be with it in a deeply self-compassionate way. 

Joseph Goldstein, one of our most senior American teachers, suggests we think of dukkha as “we are not alone.” That’s the other good news of dukkha: we aren’t alone – it’s the same for everyone: we all have these moments when we don’t get what we want, or we get something we don’t want, or we lose something or someone. We’re all in this together. That’s the first characteristic and we can practice with it just by bringing our nonjudgmental attention to each moment. Dukkha will be there.

The second characteristic is anicca or impermanence. Everything is always changing. We want to hold onto things (when they’re good) but we can’t – everything just slips through our fingers. “We’re all just falling through the air, nothing to hold onto,” as Chogyam Trumpa Rinpoche said. Someone broke a big, gorgeous, gold-painted bowl that I inherited from my grandmother and is irreplaceable. I can feel that loss in my body as such deep sadness because I’ve used it as a fruit bowl since 1997 and it was one of my prized possessions. But the truth is, the bowl was already broken. Or was at least bound to be broken. A hundred years from now? A thousand years? That bowl would have been nothing but dust no matter what, anyway. I’m sad, but the truth is, everything is impermanent. Nothing lasts, as Joseph says. It’s great news to be able to see this and practice with it. It was what helped me to continue to love – right in the moment – the person who broke the bowl. The bowl is broken and all is well. We’ve all lost things, lost people we love, and we grieve, but all is still well. Someday we will be the one who’s lost, and the world will keep turning – our beautiful, impacted, spectacular world.

The third Characteristic is anatta, not self, emptiness. 

I love this Characteristic. It’s so helpful for me: whenever I get into a situation where I think I know myself, or I see some quality of heart or mind that I like and think I can hang my hat on – or don’t like and feel ashamed of – anatta is right there to remind me that there’s no such thing as a fixed self. That this person I know as Judi and you hear yacking away here on the Wake Up Call on Thursdays is nothing more than a constellation of every-changing qualities of heart and mind, informed by every experience I’ve ever had or even bumped into over the last 63 years and four months. And the same is true for you: you are different now than a moment ago and will be different again in another moment. There is no fixed you. 

I’ve heard that indigenous people think of themselves as a hollow reed, experiences simply flowing through them. I love that image. Ruth King says anatta is like saying, “nothing is personal.” She doesn’t mean we shouldn’t take responsibility to be the most generous, ethical, patient, joyfully energetic, devoted meditators we can be. She just means – I think – that we’re all just doing our best and to the extent there’s something inside of us – some conditioning, some formation or remnant – we can’t take that personally. We can just be kind to ourselves and everyone, all the time, and let the rest go.

Joseph says that anatta really means everything is connected. Aha! It’s beautiful, isn’t it? Not only am I not a fixed, separate, self, but we’re all in this mishmash together, all bumping up against one another and impacting one another – we can see this in our law practices and in our classrooms so well! – and what else is there to say? We’re empty and we’re connected and so is everyone and every thing, and none of it is personal. How perfect is that?

Let’s sit.

When I think of wisdom,

I tend to think of the things I’ve learned and know.

But wisdom from a mindfulness perspective is different.

Mindfulness says that wisdom is about realizing

we’re going to hit bumps in the road and that’s ok,

hard times (and good times) aren’t forever and that's ok, too,

and even though we keep turning our hearts and minds towards

kindness, generosity, patience, and compassion,

in the end nothing is personal and that's ok, too.

We’re all just doing our best, together, in this unfathomable world.

That’s my best shot at a synopsis of the Three Characteristics.

For a more rambling version, see you in about forty-five minutes.

[Play the John Lennon Imagine video at the end of the Paramitas – whenever that is! (It’s bookmarked under Music.)]