The Ups and Downs of the Holiday Season

Today's article is a guest post from Gregg Krech. Several years ago, I had the opportunity to take a weekend workshop with Gregg on Naikan, which is a powerful practice of self reflection and cultivating gratitude with roots in Jodo Shinshu Buddhist teachings. The basic practice is deceptively simple. You focus on your interactions during the day, and take time to reflect on the answers to each of three questions.

What have I received from others?

What have I given to others?

What troubles and difficulties have I caused to others?

You can do this focusing on a single person, group of people (like family, friends, or co-workers), or you can bring in all your interactions during the day.

After that workshop, I did daily Naikan reflections for over a year and a half. Since then, I revive the practice whenever I feel like I've lost touch with the numerous gifts coming into my life, even during difficult times. My life has shifted as a result of this work, and I'm grateful to Gregg for having introduced us to it during that workshop, and also for his book on Naikan, which explores the topic more in depth.

I hope you enjoy Gregg's timely piece today. Given how challenging the holiday season can be for many folks, I think this exploration of an alternative set of "three poisons" is a helpful antidote.

The Ups and Downs of the Holiday Season

by Gregg Krech

One of the most common messages in a holiday card is, “Happy Holidays.” We generally expect the holidays to be joyful and happy. We hear uplifting Christmas music and we have images of presents under Christmas trees, menorahs and Santa Claus. But the reality of the holiday season is a bit different. More of a mix of up and down moods and moments. Along with the Christmas music there are financial pressures. There are also crowded stores, heavy traffic, family infighting, and a certain amount of loneliness. When we find ourselves feeling depressed, overwhelmed or in despair, we think, “What’s wrong with me – it’s the holiday season? I’m supposed to feel good.” But we don’t – at least not all the time.

Let’s look at what I call the Three Poisons:

Expectations

Control

Mindlessness

How do they affect our experience of the holiday season?

Any time we have high expectations (actually, any expectations at all) we are setting ourselves up for disappointment. What are your expectations going into the holidays?:

• Everybody in the family should get along with one another.
• I should give people I love lots of nice presents and I should also receive lots of nice presents.
• I should send out and receive holiday cards.
• There should be wonderful decorations and lovely white snow (Note: I live in Vermont).
• I should feel grateful and joyful and other people should be cheerful and pleasant.

These are just a few examples. See if you can discover your own underlying expectations. When you have a moment in which you feel disappointed or angry, can you investigate the expectation you have that hasn’t been met?

Realistically, we can’t simply tell ourselves to drop our expectations. We don’t have that kind of control over our minds and hearts. What we can do is to bring an awareness to how our expectations create disappointment, resentment and even anger. We can become conscious of how our expectations often poison our ability to simply enjoy what life places in our path. That awareness itself can help us to better accept situations that would otherwise push our buttons.

The second poison is control. Many of us use the holidays as a time for reconnecting with our families including those family members who would be doing so much better if they would just take our advice about how to fix their lives.

Of course they haven't in the past, but this might just be the time they're ready to listen and "see the light." As an alternative, why not leave our teacher/counselor hat in the closet and just concentrate on being a loving son/sister/cousin/parent. We can play this role quite well without ever giving advice. And if someone else is trying to fix your life, well, just listen, thank them for their concern, and perhaps ask them if they'd like to go outside and help feed the birds or make a snowman.

Expectations are often the precursor to control. We have an idea of how we want things to turn out and now it is up to us to orchestrate the situation to make sure that happens. There’s nothing wrong with trying to host a nice dinner or party, but we have to allow life to unfold in its own way. There is a term in Japanese – jiriki. It means self-power. Making a conscious effort and taking action can be valuable. But trying to control the outcome is a guaranteed formulae for stress, anxiety and, ultimately, disappointment.

So use the holiday season as an opportunity to practice acceptance – it’s an undervalued quality that most of us could benefit from.

Finally, there’s the third poison of mindlessness – specifically the kind of mindlessness that comes from rushing. The more we’re in a hurry, the more our minds tend to abandon the present moment and think about what hasn’t happened yet. So we need to find a way to anchor ourselves in the present, even on busy days when there’s so much to do. When I traveled with Thich Nhat Hanh in the 1980’s, he taught us to use the ringing of the phone or a red stoplight as a cue for pausing and coming back to our breath. You can use this strategy with any external cue, or create one yourself with an app on your phone. The idea is to have a regular system for pausing and reconnecting with what’s happening right now.

In Japanese Psychology we learn not only to reconnect with the present, but also to reconnect with the world around us instead of getting stuck in our heads. So another way to enrich your holiday experience is to practice using your senses. Touch and smell the world around you. Close your eyes and just listen. Taste your food instead of reading the news while you eat. Self-focused attention is associated with almost every psychological disorder, so use the holidays as a way of engaging with the world around you.

When you find yourself caught up in the ups and downs of the holidays, just enjoy the ride. The bouncing is good for your spiritual muscles. And if you find yourself out of breath – that’s wonderful. It means your attention is in the right place.

Gregg Krech has been studying and teaching Japanese Psychology for 27 years and is the author of several books including, The Art of Taking Action: Lessons from Japanese Psychology (2014). He is currently conducting an online retreat for Tricycle magazine on the theme of Self-Reflection and Gratitude. In January, he will be teaching a distance learning program for the ToDo Institute called Living on Purpose as a way of launching the new year.

Happy Spirituality

Awhile back, I witnessed an interesting exchange between a male yoga teacher and two female yoga students. The teacher was expressing caution around women doing inversions while menstruating. He cited a long history of teachers agreeing on this point, waving his hands in the air, as if for extra emphasis. One woman raised her hand, and at the same time said, "Almost all of those teachers were men. How long have women been practicing yoga?" This was followed by another woman who basically disagreed with the teacher, citing potential health benefits and personal narratives of her students and friends.

There was some back and forth. At one point during the discussion, the first woman who spoke said, point blank, "I'm just expressing my disagreement with you, is that ok?"

After a few minutes of this, the teacher requested that they drop it and that we move on with the class.

It struck me that the teacher wasn't too comfortable with this kind of conflict. Perhaps he worried about loosing control of the class. I also think there was some sexism going on. Listening to a man insist that he knew better than the women in the room about their own bodies was pretty cringe worthy; I had a hard time looking at him the same after that. However, I think something else was at play here as well. Namely, doing whatever you can to maintain that harmonious, peaceful "yoga environment" that people have come to expect.

The way that discussion played out was a disappointment. Since the teacher insisted that he was essentially right on the matter, I seriously doubt the women who challenged him felt heard at all. And no doubt it impacted others in the room who hadn't spoken up, but perhaps were wondering about either that particular issue, or something else. In addition, the manner of shifting the class away from the conflict gave the impression that the discussion was mostly a distraction from the "real learning" that was supposed to be taking place. Finally, there was the effort immediately following the shift away from the conversation to return everyone to a calm and happy place, as if to override what had just happened.

Now, I feel some compassion for teachers that rush to shift uncomfortable dynamics. I have been there before myself, struggling to respond to something unexpected and volatile appearing in a class. I remember a time when I was teaching adult ESL when a particularly outspoken Muslim student starting putting down those of other spiritual/religious backgrounds. She even went as far as to chastise her fellow Muslim students, who mostly stood up for their classmates and for openness and sharing across differences. I found myself wondering how to stay loyal to my own desire for an active, participatory classroom, and yet also make sure that one or a handful of voices didn't dominate and alienate others. In some ways, this situation was an ESL teacher's dream. Over half the class actively using English to talk about their lives and share opinions. On the other hand, there was a distinct upset quality that lingered long after we had moved on to other things.

Although I did a fairly good job of facilitating space for different students to speak during that class, it was really the students themselves who chose to reach out to each other, and keep things respectful. Even with the woman who was berating them. In fact, our collective tolerance of her actually seemed to shift her views some. Towards the end of class, she was actually speaking positively about other students' beliefs and backgrounds, something I hadn't heard from her before.

At the end of the day, good teaching is always a bit risky. It requires a balance of maintaining your power as a teacher, and giving space to the students in the room to step into their own power. Even if that creates some conflicts along the way.

Genpo Roshi Falls Again

This was a surprise to stumble upon, even though I suppose it really shouldn't be much of a surprise.

Owning My Responsibility
A Personal Statement from Genpo Merzel
I have chosen to disrobe as a Buddhist Priest, and will stop giving Buddhist Precepts or Ordinations, but I will continue teaching Big Mind. I will spend the rest of my life truly integrating the Soto Zen Buddhist Ethics into my life and practice so I can once again regain dignity and respect. My actions have caused a tremendous amount of pain, confusion, and controversy for my wife, family, and Sangha, and for this I am truly sorry and greatly regret. My behavior was not in alignment with the Buddhist Precepts. I feel disrobing is just a small part of an appropriate response.

I am also resigning as an elder of the White Plum Asanga. My actions should not be viewed as a reflection on the moral fabric of any of the White Plum members.

As Genpo Merzel, I will continue to bring Big Mind into the world and to train and facilitate people who wish to study with me. I will not give up on, and will still be available for people who wish to continue studying with me as just an ordinary human being who is working on his own shadows and deeply rooted patterns.

With great humility I will continue to work on my own shadows and deeply rooted patterns that have led me to miss the mark of being a moral and ethical person and a decent human being. I appreciate all the love and support as well as the criticism that has been shared with me. Experiencing all the pain and suffering that I have caused has truly touched my heart and been the greatest teacher. It has helped open my eyes and given me greater clarity around my own dishonest, hurtful behavior as well as my sexual misconduct. I recently entered therapy and plan to continue indefinitely with it. I am in deep pain over the suffering I have caused my wife, children, students, successors and Sangha.

With Sadness and Love,
D. Genpo Merzel


The response to this announcement from the Whte Plum Asanga is as follows.

Special Announcement
The White Plum Asanga Board of Directors has accepted the resignation of Genpo Merzel from White Plum Asanga membership as well as an Elder of the White Plum. This resignation is a result of his recent disclosures regarding sexual misconduct with several of his students. Please see the Big Mind website for their statement. On behalf of the White Plum organization, I extend our support for Genpo's efforts in recovery and treatment and to the teachers and members of the Kanzeon Sangha in their efforts in healing and realigning their communities. --- Roshi Gerry Shishin Wick, President, WPA


Anyone who happens to follow the ongoings in the Buddhist 'blogosphere' will be well acquainted with the broad criticism Mr. Merzel has been subject to over the past years. I don't intend to rehash those criticisms here, but would rather like to briefly consider Mr. Merzel's announcement and how it reflects patterns of behavior in the larger Buddhist community, of which this is simply one example amongst many.

Genpo is no stranger to this blog or many others. His money making Big Mind process has been torn apart by so many in the blogosphere that there is too many to count. Now he joins the ranks of Zen teachers who have fallen prey to power, and lust, and in the process, have harmed many people in his trust.

Some outsiders are already thinking that this whole teacher/student relationship thing in Zen is a disaster, and should be abandoned. Some insiders, or former insiders, feel the same, including the guy who offered the post.

He wrote:

Mr. Merzel has, with his announcement, chosen to adopt the approach of admitting his misgivings, professing a willingness to humbly accept the consequences of his actions by disrobing as a Buddhist priest, giving up his 'Elder' status, entering into therapy, and to "spend the rest of my life truly integrating the Soto Zen Buddhist Ethics into my life and practice so I can once again regain dignity and respect." Yet, at the same time, Mr. Merzel has expressed the intention to continue teaching Big Mind, and "will not give up on, and will still be available for people who wish to continue studying with me". This strategy, although not without risk, seems to be quite successful in some Buddhist communities. Rather than indefinitely adhering to the position of strict denial, or, perhaps more commonly, after an initial period of strict denial and subsequently being forced to give up that position, the teacher attempts to appeal to others' appreciation for human fallibility; something most can sympathize with to some degree. However, when this occurs in the case of someone in the role of a teacher, it is not at all uncommon for that person to subsequently be praised for his/her admissions and, paradoxically though it may seem, the entire situation may be turned around such that in the end, the teacher actually enjoys a better standing amongst his peers and followers than beforehand! It is precisely due to the delicate psychical intricacies at play in potentially harmful situations such as these that I would offer a strong word of caution to anyone considering engaging another person as a 'teacher' in a religious context, whether it be (Zen) Buddhist or otherwise.

I think this view is too extreme. In fact, it's driven by a fear that humans are incapable of healthy, deep intimacy, and so we best remain on guard. You could take this and extend it out to psychologists, spouses and lovers, deep friendships, and in the end, you'd be left unscathed perhaps, but also untouched by the best parts of life.

But it does bring up some good questions for me. First off, how do you handle the incoming news about power and sex abuse in sanghas, and other spiritual communities? More specifically, how do you maintain openness and trust, while also being intelligent about and responsible for whatever relationships fall under the "deeply intimate" category? (Note: intimate here isn't about sex, if that isn't already clear.)

Another interesting issue brought up in the comment above is the reputation of a fallen teacher after the admission of abuse occurs, especially if it's done in a reasonably above board manner. It's worth pondering. The examples I can think of off hand, including what happened in my own sangha, are examples of repeated denial and never really taking full responsibility. In all those cases, views of the teacher in question were or are mixed afterward, as some folks who stayed loyal stick by the teacher in question, while others make efforts to keep the record set straight about the messes that were made. And then there are all those who never heard about the past, and so aren't working from the fault line so to speak.

It is a fault line, when you think about it. Genpo's narrative in the world will now, for many people, hover around the admission point. And when you think about how humans tend to handle big screw ups in general, this is a major fixation for us. Someone is sent to jail for robbing a bank when they are 20 years old, and for the rest of their life, that robbery plays a major role in how others see him or her, even if the patterns of behaviors that led to that event have mostly or completely disappeared. You would think a practice like Zen would loose up this kind of thinking, but probably not to the extent that it should, given the teachings we study and sit with for years on end.

Given the commonplace quality of teacher scandals in "Western" Zen communities over the past 50 years, perhaps the following larger issues need to be examined, along with things like community ethics policies:

1. the ways people are trained to think about major ethical breeches and criminal activities, and how our teachings either support that, or ride against it

2. the hardened narratives around those who have committed such acts in the past (i.e. things like "Once an abuser, always an abuser.)

3. how to protect groups and individuals from predatory behaviors, while also maintaining an attitude of "don't know" openness about the future of the person whose behaviors caused major harm

4. the role of teacher/student relationships in a more horizontal, democratic social context

Some of these things do come up in discussions of teacher scandals, but they tend to play a back role to commentaries about ethical violations, development of ethics policies, methods to heal communities harmed by scandals, and ways to train and "police" teachers on a larger scale (regional, national, etc.)

May all those harmed by Genpo's behavior be healed and be able to move on. And may Genpo wake up in the face of his big mistakes, and step more fully into his life as it is.

The Seduction of Hope

Over at the Mindful Moment, Dean has an excellent post about the illusions people have about hope. Whenever concerns about the future come up, I find hope to be like a bottle of quality microbrew after a long day. It's usually something that's nicely packaged, good tasting, and guaranteed to offer some short term relief from the pain. The problem is that hoping takes us away from what's present. And it also diverts us away from the deep source pool from which our future springs forth. To put stock in hope means to privilege an empty story over the wholeness that's inherent in each of us, if we only trusted it more. Dean writes:

In my experience and spiritual practice I've found hope is not a good thing. It's limits ones spiritual development. It isn't good because it in fact is a very subtle form of desire and control that makes us cling to our sense of self and our suffering, prolongs our suffering and keeps us suffering. It is an illusion of a sense of control that we don't actually have. Hope is nothing, it's not even a tangible 'anything', it's just a subtle desire for a future positive event or away from a future negative event.

I'd actually say that it isn't even about positive or negative. Spiteful politicians sometimes spend enormous amounts of energy hoping their political opponents are taken down, or even killed off. Greedy business leaders sometimes invest entire fortunes on schemes built on a hope that doing them will crush the competition. Seriously ill or seriously depressed people sometimes hope to die. Rebellious teenagers sometimes hope to fail exams, and flunk out of school. The common thread, whether the desired outcome is positive or negative in the relative sense, is that desire for control Dean speaks of. Control over what? Change.

I don't know about you, but I have never had any luck control changing. Certainly, I can plant seeds for the direction I'd like to go in, and shift my thoughts and behaviors to increase the possibility of that direction manifesting. And I can regulate my responses to whatever actually does occur. But controlling change itself? I don't think so.

The other thing I actually have come to see about hope is that it puts a lock on the doors of our life. Instead of having everything open and available in any given time, you only have a few doors open. The ones you hope for, and the ones you don't hope for.

That's the place you're operating from. I hope to get a job by the end of the month; I hope I don't go broke. Either one of the two "hopes" happen, or something entirely different occurs. With the former, the pattern of belief in hoping is reinforced. The latter often brings with it a surprise laced with confusion and even bewilderment. I didn't expect to inherit this money. What do I do now? Do I still get a job? Invest it? I don't know. I don't know.

In the end, when you give in to the seduction of hope, again and again, you loose the improvisation skills necessary to fully engage with life as it is.