This is an AI-generated transcript from auto-generated subtitles for the video Sunday Morning Meditation and Dharma Talk with Berget Jelane. It likely contains inaccuracies, especially with speaker attribution if there are multiple speakers.

The Fallacy of Perfect - Berget Jelane

The following talk was given by Berget Jelane at Insight Meditation Center in Redwood City, CA on June 10, 2024. Please visit the website www.audiodharma.org for more information.

Introduction

Good morning, everyone. It's very nice to be here. It's been a long time. I used to be here a lot for many, many years from the beginning, and with COVID, I stopped coming in person. I got very used to, since it continues on YouTube, I just tune in every Sunday morning on YouTube. So it's both exciting and a little bit different to be here. I'm just not accustomed to it, and there are so many new faces, so many new people. It's wonderful. It's really wonderful that everybody together has been able to keep IMC so active and so meaningful for all this time.

A sentence that I read this morning that touched me: "Wisdom springs from meditation. Without meditation, wisdom wains."

The Fallacy of Perfect

So Joe asked me what was the title of my talk today, and I said, "The fallacy of perfect." So that gives you a clue where I'm going, doesn't it? What is this idea of perfect? What do we mean when we say that? As I say it, what does it bring up for you? What do you think of perfect? Or you might say, perfection.

It is used, I think, pretty commonly in our culture these days. Since I've been thinking about this topic, I have found myself so frequently in the mind saying, "Oh, perfect. Oh, that's perfect." Of course, it's not perfect by any truthful way. What is it? It's a personal preference. "Oh, that fits with what I'm doing, or what I like, or what feels good."

So we talked about this in Morgan Hill a week or two ago, and I got an email from somebody a couple of days ago in response to something I had suggested. And she wrote and said, "Oh, that will work just fine." And then in parenthesis, "Notice I didn't say 'perfect.'" [Laughter] And what was really nice about that is it's in her consciousness now. So "perfect" doesn't just come out. She will think about it, and that's the point. That's the important part of Buddha's practice, right? That we're aware, that we're conscious of what we're doing, what we're saying, what's happening. And then from that awareness and consciousness, we can make more skillful, wise decisions.

So when we think about what's perfect, what's appropriate, or what's best for whom? For myself, for you, for a teacher? For who? Who is it perfect or very good for? Think of the last time you used the term "perfect." What did you mean, and how did it fit?

Recently, someone asked me to switch teaching dates, and my response was, "Oh, that's... that'll work perfectly for me." I'm becoming more and more aware of how frequently that thought, that idea, "Oh, that's perfect," or "That'll work perfectly," comes to mind. When of course, what I mean is, "Oh, that fits very well with my schedule. Yes, that works fine for me. That's good." So I'm trying to be more conscious, more aware, and use different wording than "perfect," because, of course, perfect has a certain connotation, doesn't it? And with that connotation, there's the opposite. So if something is perfect, that suggests that something else might be imperfect. And what does that mean, imperfect?

This topic came up for me because recently, I have heard so many times in different settings, different ways, "We are imperfect human beings. We are flawed human beings." And that certainly gives a certain bias, doesn't it? If we're flawed, God, if we're imperfect, what does that suggest? Are we less than? Are we incapable? I think it's often said as a way of giving a slack, you know, we're human beings, we can't be expected to be perfect. But I find hearing that over and over, it also gives the impression that we are less than, that we are somehow not so great, and therefore we don't have to expect certain things from ourselves. Well, I think it's fine maybe not to have high or unrealistic expectations, but do we really want the notion or accept about ourselves that we're less than, that we're not okay, maybe not fully human?

Could we see ourselves as flowers? Different varieties, different colors, different sizes, shapes, fragrances, etc. Together, a beautiful bouquet. And is one type any better, any more perfect than another type? We all have preferences. Some might like roses better than daisies; some might like orchids better than gardenias. But those are just preferences, aren't they? There's no truth or no reality to a notion that one is better than another. They're just different, just like us. We're all different, and in some ways, not so different, of course, but not more perfect or less perfect than anyone else. Can we just be?

That's a very important understanding in Buddhist practice: to just be. But what does that mean? That can be a little intimidating or a little bit scary or a little bit concerning. I have experienced it. What does it mean to just be? How should I be? Who should I be? Just be... but what is that? How do I do that?

I have learned to trust an inner... I don't know if guidance is the right word... an inner unfolding. So that sometimes now, if I'm questioning something or trying to decide, you know, I'll think about it a little bit, then I let go and smile to myself and say, "Hmm, well, we'll see what happens." It's a much easier way to live, and for me, it feels much more congruent, much more like I am being and not trying to be something or someone. So often that's what we're doing, right? We're trying hard to be someone, to be something special, rather than just who we are. And we don't have to define that. That doesn't have to be anything in particular, but just being.

So we still can practice, can learn the teachings of the Buddha and many other teachings. In Buddhist practice, we have the Ten Perfections¹, we have the Eight-fold Path², we have the four Brahma Viharas³. We have many lists, and they're wonderful for practice. They're wonderful for developing our awareness, expanding our compassion, our loving-kindness, generosity—all of the things that we want to expand. We don't have to practice them to be perfect. Our practice is not about becoming perfect; it's about becoming more loving, more accepting, more conscious—all the attributes that we want to cultivate and want to expand, but not as a way of being perfect.

Sometimes people want to become the perfect meditator. What's that? There's no perfect meditator. There's no perfect meditation. There's whatever our meditation is right now, and we work with that. There's nothing perfect or imperfect about it.

In our culture, judgment is a big thing. There's judgment everywhere, and we're taught from a very young age to compare and to judge. This is good, this is not good. This is beautiful, this is ugly. If this is this, then that is that. But what we're really expressing is a personal preference, not, as I said earlier, a truth. Some people may think that if you're this, that's wonderful; if you're that, that's not so good.

We take our judgments so seriously and hold them as truths. Often, we don't see them as judgments but as truths. "This is how it is." However, they're just thoughts. And if we latch on to them and hold them tightly, they expand, they proliferate. If instead, we can see them as thoughts—thoughts come and go, right?—if we don't grab onto them, latch onto them, they will change. They will come and go.

So I'm not suggesting that a form of judgment is never okay. In this practice, we have discernment, wise discrimination. It is important to be discerning and to see things clearly, but that's different from this important judgment. Discerning something, seeing something clearly can be very, very important. Letting go of it as judgment can be just as important and a part of being discerning. Using discriminating wisdom is to hold things loosely, so that when circumstances change, or for some reason our thinking changes, something changes, we can be flexible. We can change.

Sometimes that's considered weakness. If you're really serious about something, then you don't—you're not flexible, you don't get to change your mind. Well, of course, it's the opposite. If we're really serious about something, then we have to be open to change, because that's how it is. That's how life is. And actually, it takes more strength to be willing to change our minds, change our attitude, see something differently when things change, when we get new information, or somehow we see things differently. To be able to be flexible with that and change, that takes more strength than holding on to something. Typically, when somebody holds on really tight to something and won't consider any other alternative, there's fear, there's weakness. It can feel like strength to hold on so tightly to something, but in this practice, we're encouraged to be more open, to be more flexible, to allow a different attitude, a different way of seeing something when something changes or we see something in a new light.

When I was young, somehow I had the ability to see both sides of an issue. I'm a great Libra, you know, I hold both ends of the scale. But I got the impression that I was considered wishy-washy or weak. It wasn't until I came to Buddhist practice that I recognized that was an attribute that was helpful—to be able to see both sides of any issue. I still consider it an attribute, although in our culture, I'm sure again, many would see that as wishy-washy. You're supposed to see things clearly and then stay with it.

But as we look around our very painful world, all the fighting, all the unhappiness, it can be very helpful to be willing to be open to see both perspectives. This morning, when I was walking my dog, I came upon my Russian neighbor who's taking care of his son's dog. We had a brief, very friendly conversation, and as we walked away, I was struck by... I know a little bit about his and his wife's feelings. And I have, in Southern California, a Ukrainian friend that I met in Ukraine many, many years ago. And I couldn't help but... you know, each of them have very different views of what's going on, different positions from their experience, from their growing up. One grew up in Ukraine, one grew up in Russia, and so they see things quite differently. Both very, very wonderful people, very... you know, on a personal level. And they have different perspectives.

And it's so easy in our culture, I mean, I try to resist it, but there's the temptation to see one side as right and the other side is wrong. That's how we get to war, isn't it? What if both sides have a perspective? What if we let go of this right-wrong, good-bad, but this is one perspective, this is another perspective? Same with Gaza, right? Both feel victims. How can we not be so judgmental, hold both, and work together?

I have in my notes: war is the problem. We tend to jump to war, and we tend to think that war or violence or fighting is the way to answer something. What if we consider things as perspectives? And how can we work together so that both perspectives can have a place? It can be the same in interpersonal relations, right? It doesn't have to be countries. How can we appreciate and understand the perspective of someone who's very different from us without this "right/wrong"? That's a challenge, isn't it? So frequently, we hear something on the news or from somebody, and right away, this is right and this is wrong. Well, when we look a little bit closer, it's not always so clear, is it? They're different because experiences are different, but that doesn't make one right and one wrong.

Can we enjoy each moment, each day, each week, each year without judgment, setting aside the judgment? We have so many judgments about so many things. I mentioned flowers earlier—flowers and weeds. Who determines what's a flower and what's a weed? I don't think it's nature; I think it's human beings. I have a little reputation in the community in which I live: I appreciate the weeds. So when the gardeners come around, they don't dig up the weeds, or they'll say, "Can we cut these? Is it okay to cut these?" And I love it. They so often want to have everything very prim, trimmed, just looking just so. Well, the weeds add greenery, and some of them have little flowers. And so the tree right next to me has all this green. Now, I'm sure not everybody likes it, but I love it. I love the green, and it's a reminder: what is a weed and what is a flower? This weed has a lovely little orange flower.

I think about the seasons. Almost everybody has a preference for summer, fall, winter, spring. It's a preference, isn't it? There's nothing inherently better about winter than spring. We need them all, of course, and if we're open, we can enjoy them all.

Even what's alive and what's dead, it's all part of life. We're taught, we've learned, of course, that alive is good, dead is not good. However, we all know, don't we? We're all going to be dead one day. And just like the seasons where the leaves die and fall off the tree, insects, rodents, our pets die at some point. And is that ugly? We die at some point. Is that ugly? Can we see it as part of the cycle of life? And that while we may have feelings about how someone or something died, the suffering that may have gone along with it, the actual death is part of life, isn't it? Everything that comes into being will disappear. That's a basic teaching, isn't it?

I want to leave some time for discussion. I'm going to end with just a little bit about my grandson, my favorite "crooked tree in the forest." My grandson is 24. He was diagnosed at about 18 months with cerebral palsy. He cannot read or write. He knows his name, but if you ask him how old he is, if he's with me, he'll turn to me and he might say 16. Just somehow that sticks in his mind. On the other hand, he is one of the nicest human beings you could ever want to meet. Everybody says that, not just his grandma, but everybody. He's so friendly, kind, and he loves music. I've taken him to many symphonies, and he can tell you every single instrument in that orchestra. And I have been known to misname something. "No, Grandma, that's a whatever." He knows the difference.

Five years ago, we were in Missouri for my daughter's ordination, and we were sitting outside having breakfast. We heard this bird up in the tree, and right away, Alexander said—I didn't understand him, but he said—"That's a cardinal." And I kept saying, "What?" you know. Finally, "Oh, a cardinal." We don't have cardinals in California, but his grandpa had given him a book with the sounds of birds and the name, and he knew from that it was a cardinal. Well, of course, a couple of minutes later, out flew this red bird from the tree. It was indeed a cardinal.

So I talk about my grandson because I have learned so much from him. And learned, you know, some would say he's imperfect. Well, I guess from a certain point of view, he is. My daughter and I both agree we would not want him any other way. He's a wonderful human being, imperfect as some might say, or as the crooked tree in the forest. Crooked trees can be beautiful, can be wonderful.

Let's remember that "perfect" is a human construct. It's a human idea that probably isn't so helpful, because if there's perfect, there's imperfect. And what if we dropped both? What if we just saw things as clearly as we can, saw things as they are, without all our human notions and ideas? Does that make sense?

Q&A

Questioner 1: Bergette, over the last 22 years, I've seen and read quite a few Buddhist teachers, and there's one point I think it's safe to say they don't all agree on. Many teachers, or some at least, do believe in the possibility of full enlightenment, which you could describe as a sort of perfection. And then other teachers, I don't think so. They would say they don't think it's really completely possible, or they have doubts about it. For me, it's not something I think of as attainable, but something that I can always get closer to, and then closer to, and closer to. Whether I get there or not, I have no way of knowing, so why even think about that? Just keep making the effort to get a little closer. But do you have any thoughts on that, on enlightenment?

Berget Jelane: I think what you're saying is very wise. Who knows? When I first came to Buddhist practice 30-some years ago, I didn't know anything about enlightenment. And after a few years, all I wanted was enlightenment. I practiced and, you know... And then it kind of gradually just relaxed. And I feel a little bit like you. I want to make the effort for the qualities I was mentioning earlier. I want to be kinder and more loving and more compassionate, etc., etc. Enlightenment... I guess I sort of feel if it comes, great. If it doesn't... Does that answer?

Questioner 2: Hi Berget, it's nice to see you. As I was listening to your talk, what came up to me was discernment. So there is the idea of some of the things in this particular philosophy that we're practicing under can be very idealistic from my point of view, and rightly so. And there are things... my heart sped up when I started to hear you talk about war, and the word "discernment" came to mind. In the way that, you know, I'm just thinking about the plant world or the possibilities for choices for eating right, diet, not all foods are created equal. Not all of them are wholesome, as you know. Some plants are really poisonous to us. And so I just wanted to drop discernment into the consciousness as well today, as a possibility that while all could be perfect, it needs to be included... not all is wholesome.

Berget Jelane: There you go. Right, right, exactly. Yes, I did say discernment a little bit ago. I think I see discernment as different from judgment. That's why I mentioned it. And yes, discernment, discriminating wisdom, it is very important, not just for diet, all kinds of things, right? And so I like "discernment" or "discriminating wisdom" better than "judgment" because of all the implications that judgment has. But judgment in the sense of seeing things clearly and making skillful, wise decisions, yes, can be very helpful. And I think discernment, discriminating wisdom might be more helpful terms than judgment. And I agree with you, and it's one of the things that has kept me with Buddhism. It's very idealistic, but you know what? It's realistic. What we call idealistic is really realistic, is really more realistic. If we followed the teachings and did our very best, that would be so much more realistic in the sense of helping our communities, our planet, etc. So I love the idealism, and I think it's more realistic.

Questioner 3: I just wanted to make a comment about the notion of perfection and how it struck me that perfection is something that's public. We share it, we use it as compliments with other people, but I don't see it as being a notion that we might experience or think about privately.

Berget Jelane: Say a little more.

Questioner 3: When we use the word "perfection" or we think about it, we use it as a compliment about something. And we talk about it with another person, "Oh, that was perfect." "Oh, you did a perfect job." So I feel like it's a public concept more than a private concept, more than one that we think about in our own private thoughts. We might not privately think, "Oh, that was perfect," or "I did that just perfectly." I'm just wondering if you thought about perfection as being more of a public statement or compliment or something that's shared with others publicly rather than something that people can appreciate or think about privately.

Berget Jelane: Well, I haven't thought about that. [Laughter] It seems mostly that people don't tell themselves very often, "Oh, that was perfect," or "Oh, you did that just perfectly." We tend to be more critical and more likely to say, "Well, that wasn't so great," or "Well, you could have done that one better." We probably wouldn't say that to somebody else necessarily, but I think to ourselves, many of us, most of us, are quite critical. Whether it's public or private, it has a judgment, and judgments can be very hard and harmful. And I would rather that we saw things clearly and saw things as they are without the need for judging. We judge all the time. Do we really need to do that? Discriminate, discern, yes, but that's not judging. That's not good/bad, right/wrong. That's seeing things as they are.

Questioner 4 (Nancy): Thank you. I was thinking during your talk today about the Japanese notion of wabi-sabi⁴, of there being perfection in imperfection. And I thought that sort of encapsulated a lot of what you were talking about.

Berget Jelane: Nancy, how would you define that concept of wabi-sabi?

Nancy: Of there being perfection in imperfection. That circumstances, people, or even conversations may go imperfectly, but in that imperfection, there's still always something to learn. I mean, there is something that can be given even in an imperfect situation.

Berget Jelane: Exactly, exactly. Thank you for that.