Michael, drawing on the teaching of British dharma teacher Martin Aylward, centered the discussion this Sunday on the evolution of our relation to the dharma as our lives unfold. As we observe how our own practice has changed over time, we might come to see how it resonates with different phases of the life of Siddhartha as he came to awaken to his own Buddha nature. This is not to make us out as good little Buddhas, but rather to point out that the shifts and comings and goings of our own lives can be illuminated by the about-faces that characterized the far from straight unfolding of the life of the bodhisattva.
We may begin our spiritual explorations quite tentatively, dipping a toe in, experimenting with this or that technique early on, seeking ease and comfort—even escape. But at some point in our lives, we may find ourselves longing to lean into a more disciplined practice, perhaps an echo of the maturing Siddhartha’s about-face from a life or luxury and comfort to a stricter, more ascetic and disciplined focus. Perhaps like him we learned a good deal from this tightening up: it can be very energizing, but also, in time, exhausting, as dedication to a distant goal saps away energy for a fulfilling life in the actual present.
At one particularly strenuous point in his evolution, the Bodhisattva remembered a day from his early teens in which he was present at a great agricultural festival with his father, a scene filled with the labor of those who tilled the earth and the stresses experienced by the ruling family, of which he was member and heir. Yet amid all this strain, he managed to sideline himself, finding a quiet place in the shade of a rose-apple tree, where he relaxed profoundly, and effortlessly took in the beauty of the shifting light and shadows of the breeze-blown leaves, and the relief of not being at the center of things.
This restoration and renewal he experienced allowed him to remain fresh, easily energetic and committed through the long night leading up to his awakening . . . after which . . . after which, he did not burst forth into the world ready to promote new ideas and insights, but rather took an extended time—days and weeks—to look into the subtleties and implications of what he had come to understand about the world and himself. Before turning to speak of this, to move beyond what can be spoken about change and suffering and identity, he entered and dwelt in an understanding that allowed him to move through life with grace and generosity.
In the end, we, like him, can find an underlying direction in a life filled with switchbacks, seeming inconsistencies and contradictions. We can discover a mind that is by its nature inherently free, and deeply wed to the whole of life, with all its joys and sorrows; capacious, steady, tender, forgiving and grounded in life as it is, rather than how we once imagined it might turn out to be, if we only followed a straight and narrow path which seemed to present itself early on.
