This is an AI-generated transcript from auto-generated subtitles for the video Guided Meditation: Not Personal; Ten Protectors (5 of 10) Caring for Sangha. It likely contains inaccuracies, especially with speaker attribution if there are multiple speakers.

Guided Meditation: Not Personal; Dharmette: Ten Protectors (5 of 10) Caring for Sangha - Gil Fronsdal

The following talk was given by Gil Fronsdal at Insight Meditation Center in Redwood City, CA on October 06, 2023. Please visit the website www.audiodharma.org for more information.

Guided Meditation: Not Personal

It's nice to see all the greetings on the chat, and I'm sure there's lots of people who would rather not chat publicly or don't know how or something. But I see these wonderful good mornings as kind of representing a large community that we are coming here these weekday mornings, and it's very heartwarming. It's inspiring and inspires me to come down here and teach. I love teaching, and teaching to me feels like an extension of the practice that we do.

So one of the ways that our own practice can be inspiring, or can be supported, protected even, is if we don't take it too personally. The momentum in the mind to define things or refer things back to ourselves in some kind of definition of who we are, or some kind of idea, some kind of feeling that lends itself to such ideas as "me, myself, and mine" or "this is mine"—and then defining ourselves with these things—lends itself to riding close to all our experience and kind of navigating it as if we're trying to improve the self, or defend the self, or hide the self. Everything is referred to ourselves.

The idea of progress, the idea of gaining something in practice, can be very much associated with "me, myself, and mine", like "I have to get something out of this" or "Why do I do it?" That's a reasonable point of view, but also it too easily brings along a lot of self, a lot of conceit, a lot of self-preoccupation, which is one of the great hindrances to discovering the deep peace that's possible through meditation, the freedom that's possible. And the idea that we would practice meditation in a certain kind of way not for ourselves is confusing and is off-putting for some people because, "Of course I'm here, and don't I count? And shouldn't I be taking care of myself?"

But there is something very profound about not engaging in this exercise of selfing, of measuring things against some notions of self, judging who we are, what we're doing, trying to get better experiences for ourselves, gathering experiences so we have good things to say to our friends, or trying to make progress in meditation so we can prove ourselves in some way. So this is a delicate thing, this selfing. Of course we want to heal ourselves, of course we want to improve ourselves, and that's the whole enterprise in Buddhism: to improve ourselves, to heal and find freedom, to develop love and compassion. It turns out that the whole enterprise, the whole momentum of practice can be a lot easier if we put to rest the ways in which we take things personally, the ways in which we consider our experiences, what's happening to us, that I'm responsible for this, that I'm making something happen, or this is because I did this in the past.

One of the opportunities in practice is to practice sincerely, but to view what's happening impersonally. Not impersonally in some cold, aloof way, but impersonally in a way that allows for a deeper intimacy without the filter of "me, myself, and mine." So, the art of practicing and seeing things as being somewhat impersonal, or non-personal, or transpersonal, and to put to rest the "me, myself, and mine." For some of us, it's hard to imagine how we can make effort without that idea of self and "me doing it", and that's okay, but to begin the process of lightening up, loosening up the grip of self in relationship to lots of things.

For example, if there's pain while we meditate, there's a wise way of seeing it in an impersonal way: just pain, without calling it "my pain." If the mind is wandering an awful lot, just call it a wandering mind as opposed to "I am wandering off, I'm not able to meditate." If the breathing doesn't feel as comfortable and easy as you know it can be, then it's just simply uncomfortable breathing, nothing more, nothing less, as opposed to, "Wow, what did I do that I'm breathing this way? And I have to figure out the solution, and I'm not being a good breather right now." So instead of all the self-referencing, it's kind of matter-of-fact, kind of like the way a naturalist would just watch what's happening in nature and record it without judgments or without making it into something that it's not, without making it into herself, or himself, their self.

So may you sit this way. May you be the naturalist of your experience. Curious, present, open, available, without taking it personally, without the added effort of making it mine, or making it something that defines me or something that characterizes myself.

So to assume a meditation posture, gently close your eyes. And if in some way it's not about you being comfortable in the meditation posture, but rather your body. You want to assume a posture that your body feels good, feels that it is energizing, engaging, where the body feels like, "Yes, it's here."

And the next few breaths that you do... breathing is something we share with other humans and other mammals and other creatures. It's such a universal characteristic of much of animal life to breathe. Here now, this deep animal nature of our being that keeps us alive is our breathing.

Take a few long, slow, deep breaths, appreciating that this has been going on for millions of years, creatures breathing on this planet. And relaxing on the exhale, then letting your breathing return to normal. Maybe like a creature that is feeling safe, contented, the breathing itself can begin to relax. Making space for breathing to breathe itself.

If you go into a place of nature and just watch all the elements of nature—the creatures, the plants, the sky, the ground—as part of the natural world, so as you gaze within to your breathing, your body, your feelings, your thoughts, see them as part of nature. No need to take them personally or to make yourself out of them. No need to have whatever is happening within be tied to "me, myself, and mine." Just nature being nature. Kind of a non-personal intimacy with the natural world. This is what's possible with being mindful of ourselves, mindful of our experience moment by moment.

When you find yourself entangled with thinking, don't make that something to do about yourself. As a naturalist, just go, "Wow, that's entangled." See it clearly in the simplicity of what it is. Wow, nothing to do with yourself. And begin again with your breathing.

And then as we come to the end of the sitting... sometimes when meditation brings us a degree of calm, peace, well-being, a sense of safety and coziness, something in that family... the instinct, the ability for us to have well-wishing for others, wishing people well, can arise as an act of nature. Not exactly a personal decision, we're inclined to meet people in a friendly and respectful way, open way, not asserting ourselves but available. And in this kind of way, kind of almost a non-personal way or something deep within, deeper than any notion of self, maybe from there there can be well-wishing for this world.

May all beings in this world be happy. May they be safe. May they be peaceful. May they be free. And may they know that I offer my respect and good will from some deep place within where I'm available to support this possibility. May all beings be free.

Thank you.

Dharmette: Ten Protectors (5 of 10) Caring for Sangha

Greetings from Insight Meditation Center. Continuing in this 10-part series that's called the 10 Protectors, or the 10 supporters or helpers. And this one today is, in a skillful and wise way, caring for, supporting the sangha¹, caring for and supporting your practice community.

Now, ever since I got involved in this IMC sangha many years ago when it was just a small sitting group on Monday nights—about 12, 15 people came, and I joined them as a teacher, it had been already in place for maybe four years—and coming out of a monastic training, I had seen how phenomenally useful it is, powerful it is, to care for the place that we practice in. It's a place where we're supported: location, and friends, and community, and maybe teachings. And there's something in the alchemy of practice that changes for a good way when we also care for the place we practice in.

So because of that, when we were just a few people coming, it was easier for me to take care of the logistics. There were very few things: there was a key that opened and closed the church library where we met, there were flyers from Spirit Rock Meditation Center that we put out to let people know what was happening—there were very little Insight Meditation opportunities in the Bay Area back then. And that was it. Someone with a key, someone took care of the flyers. And I could easily have done that myself, but it felt like such an important thing to provide people with an opportunity to care for the place they practiced in. So we found someone, and I think the person who then carried the key, opened the place every week, I told them that they were the president of our sitting group. I gave them some higher-level caretaking responsibility for it, and even though there was almost nothing to do, I thought it was useful for people to step into a little bit of a leadership role. I didn't know what was going to happen with that.

And then slowly we grew and developed, and it was remarkable how many people stepped forward to volunteer. Part of the benefits of volunteering was forming a deeper sense of community and connectedness with other practitioners and this idea of caring for the practice center. So there's more sense of connection. Community also supports and protects our own practice in a way that is not available too much when we practice just alone all the time. So we can become, in a sense, a protector of the sangha, which is a powerful thing to be.

But more importantly, there's a way in which being a little bit selfless, a little bit kind of extending ourselves to support others, is a protection from our selfishness. Protection from us doing the practice in a little bit too self-centered ways, too preoccupied by "me, myself, and mine": "It's my practice," "I'm going to get enlightened," "I'm going to get concentrated," "All these people are getting in the way, they just make life more difficult and complicated." But rather, to see that we grow in connection to the community. They mirror who we are, they mirror how we might be a little bit off, or how we are confused, and how we might take things excessively personally, or it might be situations where our judgments of others come forward. Being in community, working with people becomes a mirror for ourselves.

This is one of the first reasons I think that I decided to go live at a Buddhist center. I had been practicing Zen in college. I meditated in zazen²—Zen meditation—twice a day on my own, and I would visit San Francisco Zen Center occasionally, once a month or something. I noticed something peculiar there. I was young, I was about 22, and I had all these social games that I played. I wanted to present myself in a certain way so they would think of me in a certain way. I had some way I wanted to be seen, and so I was talking and engaging in ways to try to get that response from people. So playing the social games to try to reinforce a certain identity that I wanted to have.

When I was with my friends, I didn't even know I was doing this. We were all doing it, so it was all kind of one big social thing where we were good friends and got along well, but there was this moving in and out unconsciously with this kind of game of self and self-presentation. But when I came to San Francisco Zen Center and talked to some of the more senior practitioners there, a remarkable thing happened. I would do these social games of presenting myself in a certain way, and there would be no response. They weren't playing the game, and they were kind of a mirror. I was like, "Wow," then I really saw what I was doing in a way that I hadn't seen before. And so I thought this is invaluable to have people mirror the ways that I'm kind of off. I want to see this more clearly.

And so that was the first desire to go live at the San Francisco Zen Center: to be around these people who mirrored me in ways that showed me where I needed to let go, where I needed to grow, where I needed to really take a good look at myself and see the things that were not necessarily so wonderful about me. I felt so lucky that I'd found a place to go to have this mirrored for me, that I would see this about myself. And even though some of it was rather embarrassing maybe, or I would cringe about what I'd see in myself, I was so happy. I felt much safer as a human being moving through the world when I was being mirrored, when I was being shown all the ways in which I was off. So that was a protection for me, and I loved this protection. I felt safer being in such a community.

To have community for support, to know people more personally, to be able to witness people's goodness in a way that sometimes you don't see it unless you're sharing and caring for the community life. So here at IMC, I felt it was always important to make it available for people to be volunteers, but never require it. I thought it was extremely important to not have any sense of obligation around it, any sense that you were less a member of the community if you weren't volunteering. This art of making it very available to people... people have all kinds of circumstances in their lives and people have busy lives. They have personal circumstances that they might be challenged by, and they don't have the ability, the time, or the interest to volunteer at their local sangha, in the community. So finding that balance of making it available but having no one feel any sense of obligation was the balancing act that we've tried to do here for these many years at IMC as we grew.

So whatever Buddhist communities that you have that you practice in, to offer some care to them. If you live someplace where there's no Buddhist community that you're directly connected to, if this YouTube is your community these years, maybe there's some simple way that you could volunteer for IMC in the distance. There are people who help with technology, or help with managing some of the Zoom and different things that we do, recordings. So it's not always easy to find volunteer positions for people, but it's essential for who we are.

But I'm not offering this fishing for people, trying to get people to volunteer here. What I'm trying to do is talk about this protection we get. When we protect the sangha, we're protected as well, and the primary protection that I celebrate is a protection from being excessively self-preoccupied, maybe even selfish. It's hard to see how that works, and so to be in some situation where you have to stretch yourself beyond your usual sense of self, where you have to drop it. And there's all kinds of ways to do that besides supporting a sangha. There's other sanghas, there's other communities.

I was struck by how much this was the case having little babies and toddlers. Boy, was that a mirror for myself! Boy, was that the place where I saw ways in which I was selfish, maybe, or self-concerned, self-preoccupied in ways that I had no idea, because there were ways in which I could do it so freely without... in a reasonable, healthy way, no one could see it. I couldn't even see it. But the demands of caring for young children was such a good mirror. Wow. And I saw all kinds of things about me that were challenging to see and challenging to let go of even, but it was a fantastic sangha, a fantastic way that it was a protection for me to see things about myself that I hadn't even seen in a long monastic life.

To find some ways to be connected to other people, supporting other people that steps you out of the little world of self that you might have. And stretch yourself in such a way that something that's not needed can be let go, so that you find yourself freer in relationship to living this life. Where you don't have the wind drag of self-concern, you don't have the tension of conceit. You're involved in the world kind of in a more selfless way, or impersonal, or non-personal way, without you being the center of attention, but the other becomes more valuable. In situations where I've been that way in my life, I just felt like it was a freeing movement to do that. And in some ways, I saw more possibility of freedom from self-concern, self-preoccupation, in supporting and helping others and working for others than sometimes I've seen in meditation itself. So this kind of going back and forth between meditation and having this challenge of how we live in the world is a wonderful balance.

For some people, this teaching about doing things more non-personally, or without selfishness and preoccupation, needs to be heard very carefully, because it's not meant to be any denial or diminishing of the value of this person that we are. And it's not meant to be a sacrificing of ourselves for others. It's meant to be able to step forward more fully and become ourselves more fully, rather than being less. But this "more fully" way of stepping forward, the shell, the ties of self-concern can fall off as we do so.

So thank you. And may you consider ways in which your support, your care for others, may be a mirror for you to see yourself better, and help you break out of the ways that self-concern is limiting for you. So thank you very much.