Our mind and body run by habit. Half of the time, we're not conscious of what we're doing, but go from one end of the day to the other with the help of our habits. Some habits--like hitting the same keys with the same fingers as we type--save us enormous amounts of time and energy. Other habits--like a tendency towards negativity--are just as automatic, but very destructive to ourselves and to those around us.
In order to change our habits, we must first know what they are. We find out what they are by paying attention to how we think, how we react to the world around us. First we need to develop a part of ourselves that is a neutral witness to our thoughts and behaviors. This is not the same as a conscience which tells us what we are doing it wrong. The witness has a no-praise, no-blame quality, it simply says: this is what is happening now. Once we begin to discern a habitual pattern that is confining us--the tendency to withdraw, for instance--we make a conscious effort to do the opposite--to respond instead of withdrawing. If our habitual habit is to respond with aggression, the antidote would be to remain peaceful within ourselves.
We
can't, of course, change our habits overnight, but we can begin whittling them
down little by little. One
way to try to break the hold of a bad habit is to go on a fast. Usually a fast
is connected with eating, but there are other things that we can give up: habitual
emotional responses such as anger, defensiveness, jealousy; verbal tendencies
such as gossiping, speaking harshly to or critically of others; in-grained work
patterns that can range from chronic procrastination to obsessive over-achievement.
(The list of bad habits can be very long.) Pick a habit that you feel is counter-productive,
maybe a tendency to respond with aggression, make a commitment not to indulge
in that habit for a relatively short period of time--say, six hours, or four
or two. Noting every time you "almost" break the fast is helpful.
In fact, paying close attention to your habitual patterns of response is always
the first step. The next step is to make an effort to respond in the opposite
way, to choose peace instead of aggression. In time we may discover that being
peaceful doesn't have to be forced, that we feel enriched and complete when
we find that place of peace within ourselves. Others respond to us in a more
positive way; we feel less fear and more love--both from others and toward them.
In our own small way we are able to contribute a little bit more peace to the
world, a little bit less aggression.
When we begin to watch our mind, we uncover a number of obstacles that keep us separate from our deeper selves. According to Buddhist psychology, there are three root things that poison the mind: attachment, aversion and ignorance. We see something, we want it, we attach ourselves to it. Or we see it, don't want it, push it away. In addition, we make judgments about it. It's good, it's bad.
And ignorance? It's the basis of both of the above. Ignorance is indulging in attachment and aversion, in not knowing any better, in thinking the duality (self and other, for instance) we create in our own minds is real, solid, firm. Which it isn't. What we think of as our self isn't real either. Not that it isn't there. Something's there, but it's changing, coming into being, going out of being, each instant.
Furthermore, the self —myself, yourself, himself—is like the weather. Not real or solid, but happening. Sometimes the rain and hail dominate everything. Other times, the clouds are light and fluffy, lots of sky showing through. But it’s always impermanent, always changing, never the same from minute to minute.
How do we get out of this? The first thing to do is to learn not to identify with the mind, just watch it, watch our thoughts, our emotions, our crazy reactions. Don't do anything. Just watch the mind from somewhere just below the mind. Don't think about watching the mind, just watch it. This takes time. Be patient.
One thing you'll notice right away when you develop what is called "the witness" is that the part of you (your consciousness) that is watching the mind is neither in the past nor the future, but in the present. If we can get a whiff of the present, we can learn to sniff it out again and again for longer and longer periods of time. As we learn to identify with this sense of presence, our identification with that busy-busy fountain of thoughts called our brain begins to lessen, but also we begin to feel a sense of peace and bubbles of joy. Inner peace is spontaneously present in the now, as is wisdom and compassion. We're not giving up a thing when we quit paying so much attention to our busy brain. On the contrary, we are learning to use our minds in a new way.
That's why we meditate, in order to dis-identify with the busy brain and develop true consciousness. Meditation is a sort of super highway toward understanding the way the mind works. All religious traditions have a method of meditation although it is most often associated with Buddhism. Even atheists can meditate. But that doesn't mean that it is always easy. Nonetheless, it's worth the trouble to learn how to do it.
When we are angry or jealous or puffed up by pride, we become these emotions. We identify with them, create a story line or drama to support them, hang on to them. Phone our friends and relive the event all over again. Psychologist say that when we first get angry, the initial emotion might be fairly mild. But then comes the second wave, after we've pumped it up, connected it to all the other times we have ever been angry, enhanced it in our minds. The second wave of anger is stronger and meaner, harder to shake. More destructive.
The alternative? To let the emotions flow through us, to feel the emotion completely in our bodies, not act on it right away if at all, then let it go. Try it.
According to Buddhist theory --and they have had 2,500 years to work these out--there are four kinds of obscuration that keep us from perceiving our true nature and its inherent qualities of wisdom, love and compassion. It may take a while to unpack them, especially the first one which deals with our ego-centered operating system, currently the default for all but a few humans. Since this default operating system is used by so many people, it doesn't seem like an obscuration at all but simply the way we operate in the world. To fish, it would be water.
The first obscuration is intellectual and causes us to fixate on the self, on "I-me-my." Although we are constantly bombarded by the impermanent nature of the self, we tend to think of ourselves as real and solid. If we look more closely, we find that change is the only constant in our lives. In reality, the self is like an ever changing weather system -- it is out there happening, but always in flux. Trying to keep a sense of it as real and solid (and immortal), generates a great deal of unconscious fear and gives rise to a need to defend it in all sorts of ways. A great deal of energy goes into this process, making it difficult for us to relax the mind and experience our deeper nature (which is, in fact, unborn and unceasing).
The second obscuration includes the five poisons of the mind: ignorance, attachment, aversion, pride, and jealousy.
By following the push and pull of attachment and aversion, we commit many negative actions that create negative results. This interplay of cause and effect is called karma and forms the third obscuration.
The fourth consists of the mental and emotional habit patterns established and reinforced by negativity and the five poisons. If we remove these four obscurations, we will uproot the causes of suffering.
The Buddhists say that we can do this in one lifetime although they don't say which lifetime. But we don't have to wait until all of the obscurations are completely uprooted to become peaceful or happy. Just recognizing that we can do something about our minds can create a sense of lightness and direction. In time, the poisons and obscurations of the mind are replaced by love, equanimity, wisdom and joy. Maybe in this lifetime.