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Guided Meditation: The Buddha's Five Daily Recollections: Sickness; Dharmette: The Buddha's Five Daily Recollections (2 of 5): Sickness - Mei Elliott

The following talk was given by Mei Elliott at Insight Meditation Center in Redwood City, CA on May 14, 2024. Please visit the website www.audiodharma.org for more information.

Guided Meditation: The Buddha's Five Daily Recollections: Sickness

My name is Mei Elliott. Good morning, good afternoon, good evening, wherever and whenever you find yourself.

Today we are continuing our exploration of the Buddha's Five Daily Recollections, sometimes called the Five Remembrances or the Five Reflections. I like the translation "The Five Recollections" because it includes that word "collect." Ideally, we reflect on these teachings when the mind is collected and settled.

Today we'll be focusing on the second phrase: I am of the nature to become sick. I have not gone beyond sickness. Or sometimes: I am of the nature to become ill. I have not gone beyond illness.

As with yesterday, we'll practice with this phrase in two ways. First, we'll sit silently together, and after the mind has settled in meditation, we'll just drop the phrase into the mind, allowing it to ripple through without much thinking. Then, for the second way, I'll offer some questions so you can actively contemplate the phrase.

Though we cognitively know that illness will come, this contemplation is to help us move this understanding from the head to the heart—and maybe we could even say from the heart to the belly—so that we can actually digest these truths more fully.

I might add, if you're not feeling well-resourced today and it feels like a little too much to contemplate the eventual decay of your well-being, it's totally okay to mute the sound, sit in silence, and come on back at 7:30 for the Dharmette. Do what feels best for you.

For those who want to join the guided meditation, please take your meditation posture. Find yourself in a comfortable, stable position, something that allows your body to be alert and relaxed. Maybe start with a few deep breaths, inviting relaxation and settling the mind on your anchor, whatever that may be—the breath, a global sense of the body, maybe your touch points with the cushion or floor, or maybe sound.

Invite the mind to rest. Let go of past and future, prioritizing just being here. Simplifying, stabilizing, and settling the mind.

Go ahead and sit in silence together for some time now.

[Silence]

From time to time in meditation, it can be helpful to remind the body to relax. To soften the face, the temples, the jaw, shoulders, belly. Bringing some tranquility to the mind and the heart.

[Silence]

Steadying the mind. Letting go of anything extra.

[Silence]

Before we begin to drop our phrases in for recollection, we can start by bringing an attitude of kindness to the mind. A little Metta¹, a loving attitude, a little warmth or caring—whatever resonates for you. This might be the attitude you'd have if you were holding a baby in your arms. Bringing in this attitude to help bolster and support us as we engage in these phrases.

Let's begin by dropping today's phrase into our meditation. The traditional phrase:

I am subject to illness. I have not gone beyond illness.

Just allowing that to drop into your meditation and ripple through the mind and heart, seeing what arises.

I am subject to illness. I have not gone beyond illness.

Maybe something happens, maybe nothing happens, and it's fine either way. We're not demanding a response; we are just noticing. We drop the phrase in, and then it's a mindfulness practice to see what comes forth. It's fine if there are pictures or words in the mind; just keep a short leash on them so we don't go into discursive thought, memories, or emotions. Just noticing what comes up.

We might play with a more modern version of this phrase from Nikki Mirghafori². You can try dropping this in:

Breathing in gently, I lovingly remember that this body will sicken.

Use your own noun. Play with this phrase, dropping it in at a pace that feels right for you. And at any time, if you feel ready to go back to your anchor and let go of the phrases, that's totally fine.

[Silence]

Let go of the phrase, coming back into silence.

[Silence]

We'll start our engaged contemplation. Again, I'll offer a couple of questions. Because this is a contemplation, you can allow yourself to think about each question. If there are certain questions that don't resonate for you, it's not important to reflect on each one. Just choose whatever stands out.

Again, remembering: I am subject to illness. I am subject to sickness. I have not gone beyond sickness.

When you become sick, injured, or are in pain, how do you relate to it? How is that for you?

Do the contemplation staying close to the question such that we don't get lost in discursive thought. Keep a short leash on the reflection, and include whatever body sensations or emotions arise as you reflect.

When you're healthy and the body is working well, do you appreciate your health? Do you notice that the body is working well and that you're feeling good, or do you only notice the body when something goes awry?

What is it like for you knowing that we can't prevent sickness and injury?

How deeply do you know that illness will come? Do you know it conceptually only, or do you know it in your core?

You might just take a moment to notice what it feels like in the body right now. Noticing if there's a mood or an emotion present. Noticing what it feels like in the heart. Just taking all of this in with a kind and gentle awareness, making space for whatever is there.

Knowing that a great sickness may come for us, or maybe already has—that some of you may be ill at this time—and that these reflections can bring up a lot, let's bring in some Metta.

May I be joyful and happy. May I be strong and healthy. May I be safe and protected. May I be peaceful and at ease.

Or instead of the formal phrases, maybe just:

It's okay, love. There, there. It's okay. It's okay to be sick.

Coming back to your anchor, settling for the last few minutes.

[Silence]

May all beings be happy, healthy, safe, and at ease.

Dharmette: The Buddha's Five Daily Recollections (2 of 5): Sickness

Okay, welcome back.

For those who are just arriving, my name is Mei Elliott, and we are continuing our exploration of the Five Daily Recollections. As a reminder, these phrases span aging, sickness, death, losing those that we love and all that we love, and the teachings on Karma. This is a vast array.

Today I'd like to begin by sharing a Zen koan with you, as translated in Zen Flesh, Zen Bones³.

It starts with a man traveling across a field, and he encounters a tiger. He flees, of course, and the tiger chases after him. Coming to a cliff, he catches hold of the root of a wild vine and swings himself down over the edge. The man is hung over the precipice by a root while the tiger sniffs at him from above. The man looks down to where, far below, another tiger is waiting to eat him. Only the vine sustained him.

Two mice, one white and one black, little by little start to gnaw away at the vine. At that moment, the man saw a luscious strawberry near him. Grasping the vine with one hand, he plucked the strawberry with the other.

The koan ends with: How sweet it tasted.

This setup may seem a little absurd, maybe like something from an action movie or a fantasy film—a tiger above, a tiger below, the appearance of two mysterious mice just at the critical moment. But surprisingly, this is a description of our life.

There's no avoiding the inevitability of sickness, aging, and death. We can't avoid these things by going back in time; that would be like climbing back off the cliff onto stable land and into the tiger's mouth. And we all know that going forward in time brings sickness, aging, and death even closer; that's the tiger at the bottom of the cliff. The white mouse and the black mouse represent the days and nights of our life, nibbling away at the vine, little by little diminishing the time we have left.

What happens when we really come to terms with this? When you really understand deeply that sickness, old age, death, and loss are coming for us? What happens is we can learn to love this life and be more present for it. We can be truly present for that one ripe strawberry. We can taste the sweetness of this precious moment.

This is really what these phrases and recollections are about. One of the effects of practicing with them is they wake us up to the beauty of what we have here.

So today, as you know, the reflection we are focusing on is: I am of the nature to become sick. I have not gone beyond sickness.

I love Nikki Mirghafori's take on this:

Breathing in gently, I lovingly remember that this body will sicken.

In the "Ten Subjects for Frequent Recollection by One Who Has Gone Forth" (the Dasadhamma Sutta⁴), there is a line that goes: "The days and nights are relentlessly passing. How well am I spending my time?"

White mouse, black mouse. The days and nights are coming and going. Are you practicing diligently?

This phrase reminds us that sickness is coming if it hasn't already arrived. We may not always be well enough to practice with energy and zeal, or to do what we love. I may not always be well enough to meditate, or to be able to go on meditation retreats, or whatever way you practice and whatever it is that you love to do.

I did a day-long retreat at one point with a man in a wheelchair. When it came time to do walking meditation, the way he did it is he would take his two fingers—middle finger and pointer finger—and he'd walk them up and down his thigh.

Will this body always be well enough to practice in an easeful way? We don't know. It's so rare when the body is well that we actually acknowledge and appreciate everything that's functioning properly. Thich Nhat Hanh⁵ offered the teaching to be grateful for our "non-toothache." We so easily fixate on what's going wrong. It can be easy to forget to acknowledge the great relief of no toothache, of no headache, of no pain or sickness on any given day.

Remembering I am of the nature to become sick can highlight in relief the ways that wellness is available here and now. We can be grateful for our non-toothache.

The continued remembering of this teaching—I am of the nature to grow sick—not only illuminates that which is not yet sick, but it aligns our expectations such that we're not surprised when illness comes.

Sickness and injuries are common visitors for me, and I've noticed that the mind's immediate response if I get sick or injured can be, "Oh no, not again." So at a certain point, I started the morning with the sentiment: "Today could be the day." As in, today could be the day for a new cold or flu or injury or health issue. Today could be the day. This became my shorthand for: I am of the nature to get sick. I have not gone beyond sickness.

I remember on the first day I did this practice, I was eating and I bit down on a pebble or something and I lost a tooth. Rather than having this sense of "Oh no, not again," the thought was, "Oh well, of course. Today is the day." And there was no upset around it.

When we shift our expectations, we no longer feel wronged by the universe or singled out. For me, it's like, "Of course. This is the nature of how things are."

There's an extraordinary way in which, when we suffer, we often think that we're alone or isolated in our suffering. "Why me? No one else is suffering how I'm suffering." Something I appreciate about this Sutta⁶ with the Five Recollections is that it actually invites us to not only contemplate our aging, sickness, death, etc., but that we do this for others as well.

The Sutta says: "Now a disciple of the noble ones considers this: 'I am not the only one subject to sickness, who has not gone beyond sickness.'"

I am not the only one. And he repeats this multiple times. So there's no need to get into "Oh, I have more health issues than my friends" or "I get sick more often than others." We're all in this together, at one time or another.

Often when sick or ill, people can think, "My body betrayed me," or "How did this go wrong?" Instead, in this Sutta, each phrase functions with a unique intention counteracting this sense of surprise.

I shared the first one yesterday, which was the phrase: I am of the nature to age. The intention of saying that phrase is to overcome the intoxication with youth.

Today's phrase: I am of the nature to become sick. That is to overcome the intoxication of good health. So that we don't think that we're always going to have it, so that we're not clinging to it. It's not that we don't enjoy good health, but that we're not attached to it.

Or the third phrase: I am of the nature to die. That's to overcome the intoxication with life. And it's not saying that we're overcoming our love of life, but rather our clinging to life in a way that causes us to engage in misconduct—misconduct by body, speech, and mind. To let go of clinging to life in a way that causes suffering.

The fourth phrase: I am of the nature to lose what is dear to me. That's to weaken and overcome desire and lust.

And the fifth: I am the owner of my actions—which I'll just say in shorthand for now, your reflection on Karma. The intention of that phrase is to become responsible, to abandon misconduct.

This is just some of the different intentions behind the phrases from the Buddha. Ultimately, all of these cultivate a mind of greater freedom. They invite us to let go of fear and resistance. They help us live with greater love.

Still, this practice isn't easy, so be gentle with yourself. Dōgen⁷, the founder of Zen in Japan, would say, "Speak to sentient beings as you would a baby." One of my teachers extrapolated on this by saying, "Dear one, are you hungry? Do you need to have your diaper changed? Do you need to be held?" We can relate to ourselves with this sort of tenderness and kindness.

Please be gentle when you work with these reflections, and be kind to the child that lives in your own heart.

Today, I hope you're able to stay close to this reflection. If you notice that your body is able to see, able to hear, or smell, or taste; if it can walk or stand; if it can lift its limbs; if it can talk and digest its food—stay close to what's going well. Stay close, and feel some appreciation for your non-toothache. And remember that today could be the day.

Okay, thanks so much everyone. Take care. I'll see you tomorrow.