Stats!

Oh dear. I have just discovered something that is apparently new to blogspot: Stats. When did they add stats? Or have I just been blissfully ignorant of them all this time?

I've read many a post from you other-kind-of-blog bloggers about your practice with stats: How many hits have I gotten? Who's reading my blog? Why was that post popular and that post wasn't? What search terms are people using to get to my blog? Kloncke wrote a great post about this, and even created StatDragons to illustrate the weekly ups and downs of feedback from blog hit statistics. I have always been grateful that I hadn't the same ability to check and check and check: How am I doing? What does everybody think of me?

Now I do.

So observing myself observing the numbers, learning features of the stats application, like being able to see the different countries from whence the hits have come (hey there, Estonia!); this seems fine. It's the Olympic-level jumping to conclusions, the interpretations, the stories being generated about what it all means about me that starts to feel potentially problematic.

So I'll try to balance this shocking new option for self-obsession with a morsel from Pema Chodron's No Time to Lose: A Timely Guide to the Way of the Bodhisattva, in which she combs through and comments upon each line of Shantideva's Way of the Bodhisattva, a text written in the eighth century, and no less relevant this very minute.

6.93

Children can't help crying when

Their sand castles come crumbling down.

Our minds are so like them

When praise and reputation start to fail.

"We invest so much energy into getting people to admire us, but our reputations, like everything else, are as impermanent as sand castles, and attachment to them causes so much unnecessary pain.

There's a Charlie Brown cartoon that shows Lucy building an elaborate sand castle, saying proudly, "And a thousand years from now, people will see what I did here today and be totally amazed." It's this nonsensical attitude that Shantideva addresses here.

Better to regard yourself as a character in a play. You can take the part of a person who's famous or admired, without taking this identity too seriously. If praise and reputation are as fragile as sand castles, it's realistic to not be disturbed when they pass away with the changing tides. Then you can build a magnificent sand castle, covered with beautiful shells and stones. You can even get people to help you and enjoy it thoroughly, and when the waves come in, out it goes."

sand castle originally uploaded by Ben Amstutz

I Vow To Be Unmoved By Praise and Blame

ghost fart originally uploaded by banjo d

One of my girlfriends would say that a statement like that "takes some ovarios."

This is a new vow. It's a big one, taking on two of the eight worldly conditions. It's one of those Lifetime Vows. It's like the precepts; impossible to follow perfectly, but worthy of honest efforts.

I have previously posted about my addiction to praise here.

I'm afraid our culture continues to inadvertently create armies of praise junkies.

Carol Dweck, a psychologist at Stanford, has done research on children and praise. In one study, she gave a group of kids a test, upon which they all did well, but then they got divided into two groups:

Group 1 gets praise for their intellect. Ostensibly fixed traits. You kids did so well because you are smart.

Group 2 gets praise for their efforts. The process. You kids did so well because you tried hard.

Some time later, the kids get a choice: Take the same simple test over again, or take a harder test that you might learn something from. The you're-so-smart kids tend to take the simple test. 90% of the "effort-praised" kids chose the harder test. And they enjoyed it! Because for them, it's not about the outcome. Or protecting their identity as smart. In fact, the smart kids begin to feel that effort actually threatens their identities as smart kids. Because this stuff should be easy for them. Because they're so smart!

Protecting identity. How much energy have I spent on this?

A few years ago I began to ask myself how much my actions were motivated by fear and not love. One of my preamble vows is "to be motivated by wisdom and compassion." This vow clarifies things even further. And requires a letting go of this assumption that I am some fixed trait, but rather a process.

And here is one of my very favorite Zen stories about praise and blame from pureinsight.org. On this website, Min Xu writes about Su Dongpo, a Chinese calligrapher, poet, and general Renaissance man back in the Song Dynasty.

Su Dongpo wrote a poem. It was an incredible poem. It was a poem about attaining a level of enlightenment so high that the eight worldly conditions (praise, blame, loss, gain, pleasure, pain, fame, ill-fame) no longer affected him:

I bow my head to the heaven within heaven
Hairline rays illuminating the universe
The eight winds cannot move me
Sitting still upon the purple golden lotus

Su Dongpo impressed himself with this poem so much, he had to make sure his Zen Master friend Foyin read it. Su Dongpo

"sent a servant to hand-carry this poem to Foyin. He felt certain that his friend would be just as impressed.

When Foyin read the poem, the Zen master wrote "fart" on the manuscript and had it returned to Su Dongpo.

Su Dongpo was shocked when he saw what the Zen master had written. He hit the roof: "How dare he insult me like this? Why that lousy old monk! He's got a lot of explaining to do!"

Full of indignation, Su Dongpo ordered a boat to ferry him to the other shore as quickly as possible. Once there, he jumped off and charged into the temple. He wanted to find Foyin and demand an apology. He found Foyin's door closed. On the door was a piece of paper, with the following two lines:

The eight winds cannot move me
One fart blows me across the river

This stopped Su Dongpo cold. Foyin had anticipated this hotheaded visit.

Su Dongpo's anger suddenly drained away as he understood his friend's meaning. If he really was a man of spiritual refinement, completely unaffected by the eight winds, then how could he be so easily provoked?

Ashamed but wiser, Su Dongpo departed quietly. We have no way to know what level Sun Dongpo was finally able to achieve in his cultivation. But we can imagine that after that episode, he advanced further in cultivation and made improvements in hisxinxing (mind nature)."

Praise and Blame

Even as a solid rock is unshaken by the wind, so are the wise unshaken by praise and blame.

~Buddha

Praise and blame is one of my old sensitivities. Growing up, praise was the currency of life. Competing against my brother for what seemed to be a finite resource in an anxious family, I learned very well how winnow out praise, how to avoid or even deflect blame. As a child, I saw my brother suffer as he would often fall outside the lines of expectation, with sometimes harsh consequences, and I learned through him what not to do. Receiving praise at home and at school seemed to buy temporary respite from worry, anxiety, fear. Any blame would fall hard on me, and I would struggle mightily to get out of it, to recover this fragile sense of my goodness again.

It is also important to factor in the larger spiritual and cultural backdrop -- the Puritanical obsession with Heaven and Hell -- that looming sense of reward and punishment from on high which takes us out of the wisdom of our bodies and the reality of the present moment, and into some future to be feared or craved. A praise junkie was innocently, inadvertently created.
The construction of ego happens so early. I learned to pay close attention outside of myself to the sources of praise and blame, and carefully figure out just what it would take to extract them from my environment. Yet, even as I focused so hard on being "good" to earn praise and avoid blame -- by getting good grades, staying out of trouble, following the rules, etc., any feeling of reassurance from without could only be temporary. The pursuit of praise becomes an addiction.

When the source of peace is outside myself, I am destabilized and constantly trying to control that which is uncontrollable. "What does everybody think of me?" That tired refrain, that song stuck in my head, that habit of mind, putting its finger to the wind and being buffeted by the ever-changing opinions and views of others, usually as reported, amplified, exaggerated by my anxious and hypervigilant Inner Critic, and causing me to run around in circles, try to squeeze myself into an approved shape like a mass of play-doh, or just stop frozen in fear.

I am now looking very closely at the intentions behind all that I do. How much is based upon fear? Fear of blame, fear of loss of connection, fear of discomfort in any way, fear of the dissolution of this papier mache ego? How to be motivated by love and not fear?

First do no harm. I am learning to cultivate a life motivated by -- rooted in-- the ethics of the precepts. I continue to consult my own experience relative to the precepts, and finding skillfullness and right action being reinforced by this very body.

I am learning that an intention of love and a sense of my complete interconnectedness can be a source of fearlessness. When I engage in right action for right action's sake, and not for some external reward, my actions are less sticky, and I can let go of the outcome -- in this way, I can free all beings from this ego's sticky needs and agendas. Examining the intention behind everything, I can feel a world of difference, even in what may appear on the outside to be an identical action.
Intention is the bridge between thought and action. When I think / believe that I am a thing, distinct from all those "other" things outside of me me me, I think I am small, vulnerable, and my intentions coalesce around defending this small distinct jellybean I consider myself, and from that flow my actions. My life becomes one big commercial for the product of I, me, mine, trying to convince the world and my small self of the quality and worth of this product. That incorrect view naturally leads to those less than skillful intentions and actions, rooted in fear, and feels like a rollercoaster with ups and downs made of praise and blame.
Jizo Bodhisattva embodies a fearless love, rooted in the Earth itself. Still and solid as rock. In stillness my own compass points clearly (in stillness I find I actually have my own compass).

Thich Nhat Hanh enlarges the Paramita of Patience, calling it Inclusiveness, and encouraging us all to "make our heart(s) big." Big like the earth. "If your heart is small, one unjust word or act will make you suffer. But if your heart is large, if you have understanding and compassion, that word or deed will not have the power to make you suffer. You will be able to receive, embrace, and transform it in an instant. What counts here is your capacity."
The Buddha counseled his son Rahula in this way: "Develop a state of mind like the earth, Rahula. For on the earth, people throw clean and unclean things, dung and urine...and the earth is not troubled." All the elements are inclusive and untroubled in this way, absorbing and transforming everything without judgment. We are all composed of these same elements, and we all have this inherent capacity.

The Buddha also said, "Therefore, be ye lamps unto yourselves, be a refuge to yourselves. Hold fast to Truth as a lamp; hold fast to the truth as a refuge. Look not for a refuge in anyone beside yourselves. And those, who shall be a lamp unto themselves, shall betake themselves to no external refuge, but holding fast to the Truth as their lamp, and holding fast to the Truth as their refuge, they shall reach the topmost height."