Taking good care of fear and anger

Last week in Sangha (a meeting I described here) we studied a selection from Thich Nhat Hanh's posthumous book Zen and the Art of Saving the Planet. ("Posthumous" means in this case that it was edited from his talks and published after his death by Sister True Dedication.) One passage* struck me, and I want to quote it at some length to explain why:

"A yogi, a practitioner, is an artist who knows how to handle their [sic] fear and other kinds of painful feeling or emotion. They do not feel they are a victim because they know there is something they can do.

"You listen to the suffering in you and get in touch with it. Breathe in and out deeply to see, 'Why am I suffering? Where has it come from?' ….

"The meditator breathes in, and says, 'Hello, my fear, my anger, my despair. I will take good care of you.' The moment you recognize the feeling and smile to it with love and care, embracing the fear with mindfulness, it will begin to change."

Then a little later** he comes back to this theme:

"There is a deep connection between suffering and happiness; it's like the connection between the mud and a lotus flower. When you take time to listen to your suffering and look deeply into its true nature, understanding will arise; when understanding arises, compassion is born …. You make good use of the suffering to create something more positive: compassion."

Anyway, when we discussed this passage I remarked that I found it a little odd. I mentioned that I had once known someone (this was Wife, of course, though I didn't identify her by name to the sangha) who had long said,

"I keep my grudges close to my heart and nurture them well."

When I first heard her say that, I thought it was a joke and laughed. Years later I learned that she meant it, that it was literally true and not even remotely funny.

All I said in Sangha was that it was an odd way to phrase the point, and it caught my attention. But Marie picked up on my observation; and in an email the next day she fleshed it out in a truly useful way.

I did have a thought, about that same image you pointed to, of fear, anger, despair, being treated as beings "to take care of". What came to my mind was that other image (I think you said it was originally Debbie's) of the meditator being like an adult on a park bench, with one's attention/mind being a three-year-old.  And having to gently, lovingly, constantly bring it back, but of course it was going to wander. 

So, something about how I heard the image from the reading (not sure it was actually in the text) made me think of the same sort of thing, an adult caring for a toddler. 

Well, a good parent doesn't give the child what it WANTS; one gives the child what it needs to grow up.  Into not-a-child. 

Anyone whose adult child still acts like a toddler, was NOT a successful parent. 

So taking proper care of a child really is the exact opposite of giving it whatever it wants.  Feeding it junk food to fatten it, encouraging it to throw tantrums to get its way, letting it do harm, is not taking good care of it ….

And Thay [Thich Nhat Hanh] said what grows out of suffering is compassion. So that would be the adult that can grow out of the toddler anger and fear.

(The lotus imagery really resonated with me too, as I've seen them.  Beautiful flower and fragrance, and grows in complete, icky, smelly muck.  And I liked that idea that it needs the mud to grow from, but then the gentle encouragement of sunlight for the buds to actually open fully....)

Wow. What a great way to see it. Wish I'd thought of that.

__________

* Pages 54-55 of the hardbound edition.

** Page 58 of the hardbound edition.