Say you’re a happy little introvert, spending most of your time alone. Sometimes you might feel a little isolated and wonder whether the nice, safe life you’ve built is worth enduring the occasional bout of loneliness, or whether you should reach out and try to bring a loving relationship into your life.

Self-styled “normal” humans have probably accosted you with threatening phrases like “open up to love” as encouragement to change. But if it were that simple, no one would choose loneliness over love, would they? I’m here to tell you the truth.

When you leave the safety of your home, the first thing you find out is that—no matter how open you are to it—love is not guaranteed. Love is capricious, unpredictable, and unforeseeable. Whether you have success or not is largely out of your control. So at best, what all those well-intended friends are actually telling you is to open up to the mere *possibility* of love.

And because love is so rare and fickle, it’s pretty likely that you’ll waste your time and energy (and emotional vulnerability) and still come up empty-handed at the end of the day.

So realistically, what you’re actually being asked to open up to is the likelihood of rejection and heartbreak. And if you’re like most men, you’ll experience a whole lot of rejection and heartbreak before you ever find someone who will love you.

And trust me: experiencing a little loneliness once in a while is a walk in the park when compared to the pain of a broken heart.

So when your friends push you to “choose love”, remind them that it’s not a choice between loneliness and love, but between loneliness and the likelihood of repeated rejections and heartbreak, which are vastly more painful. Maybe then they’ll understand that avoiding romantic entanglements might seem like a sensible course of action to some of us.

And when they talk about dating being a growth experience, you should remind them that a growth is something painful that has to be surgically removed and excised before it kills you!

Mixed Nuts

Apr. 1st, 2010 10:48 am

Somewhere in my travels I came across this contrarian secret about Buddhist teacher interviews: if you express anxiety or confusion at an interview, the teacher’s job is to reassure you and give you confidence; whereas if you show up confident and in control, their job is to present you with deeper or more difficult challenges, to spur you to undertake greater effort.

The latter was my experience in a recent interview I had with Michael, one of the teachers at CIMC. I began by telling him that I was fairly satisfied with my life and that when I meditate, no pressing issues seem to come up for me.

I told him that in general I am on top of things, using my planning and organizational strengths to mitigate the risk involved in anything I commit to or undertake. When that happens, he suggested that I examine the energy level and the motive behind the actions I am taking, because sometimes that impulse to have everything under control is driven by fear or anxiety, rather than wisdom.

He then asked whether I had any suffering in my life or any deeply buried insecurities or fears. While my life is generally quite good, of course even I have a couple things I keep way down in the murky depths. Without getting all personal about my own particular demons, it’s important to be able to allow those feelings to reveal themselves, rather than to instinctively suppress them, so that one can then make choices and act out of wisdom rather than reactiveness.

So I left that interview with a bit more anxiety, and more of a sense that I need to do a better job admitting and facing the things I fear, rather than burying them. Joy.

Later that week we held another dharma movie night. I had proposed the animated film “Waking Life”, which is stuffed with philosophical meanderings. Even though it’s mostly a bunch of talking heads, and not everyone is as fascinated by philosophy as I am, I expected people to find it thought-provoking. I might have even hoped it would receive as positive a response as my book club selection had.

But before the movie began, we got into a discussion of our next book club selection: Mark Epstein’s “Open to Desire: The Truth About What the Buddha Taught”. When I was asked my opinion, I was honest: I think the book is logically flawed, ridiculously deluded, and dangerously misleading. On the other hand, a couple people enthusiastically loved it, and wanted me to explain why I disagreed with it. As the only person to openly criticize the book, I was on the defensive, and at a disadvantage because it had been a month and a half since I’d read it, and I didn’t have my notes to refer to. So that unexpected discussion left me feeling a bit singled out.

Then we started the movie, which got a predominantly negative reception. In fact, about a third of the way in, four people (out of nine) got up and walked out of the room, spending the rest of the evening outside on the patio rather than watching the rest of the movie. While I have no problem allowing people to make their own decisions, and I know that disliking the movie isn’t the same as disliking me as a person, I still had some emotional turmoil to work through as a result of their surprisingly blunt rejection of something that has a lot of personal and philosophical meaning to me.

In between those two events, CIMC had a dharma talk by Winnie Nazarko that related to creativity. While the talk didn’t touch any nerves for me, one point she made has stayed with me. In general, people engage in a meditative practice because they’re looking for something, whether it’s the answer to a personal dilemma or relief from generalized existential angst. Winnie emphasized the importance of knowing what your overriding question is, so that you can judge whether or not you’re on the path toward an answer.

When I considered that question for myself, two responses came immediately to mind. The first is my familiar refrain of how to live my life such that I will have no regrets on my deathbed, as I discussed here. The other is to learn how to make decisions which are more consistent with my deeper sense of personal ethics and reflect the person I aspire to be and the kind of world I want to manifest. I think it’s a positive sign that those answers came so easily to me, because it shows that I have a clear understanding of why I practice and what I hope to achieve.

And last night at CIMC Maddy held a dharma talk on generosity, and how it is the basis of practice. As we age, we have to let go of everything we have—our possessions, our relationships, our health, and eventually our lives—and the essence of the spiritual path is learning how to be at peace with that process so that we can both live and die with grace and fulfillment.

If that is so, then acts of generosity are a good way to see if we can let go of our possessions, and what it feels like to do so. By exercising our ability to see beyond our attachment to material possessions, we are practicing and becoming more familiar with the kind of letting go that we must all eventually become accustomed to facing.

On top of that, generosity is a truly ennobling act that is a demonstration that one cares about others’ suffering. And it provides fulfillment beforehand (in contemplating giving), during (in the act of giving), and afterward (in the memory of having given). There aren’t many actions one can take that are so pure and have so many positive effects, both for others as well as for oneself.

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