This is an AI-generated transcript from auto-generated subtitles for the video Guided Meditation: Allowing the Bigger Picture; Hindrances and Wholesomeness (4 of 5): Ill Will. It likely contains inaccuracies.

Guided Meditation: Allowing the Bigger Picture; Dharmette: Hindrances and Wholesomeness (4 of 5) Ill Will - Kim Allen

The following talk was given by Kim Allen at Insight Meditation Center in Redwood City, CA on October 03, 2024. Please visit the website www.audiodharma.org for more information.

Guided Meditation: Allowing the Bigger Picture

Okay, let's go ahead and get started. For those of you who didn't hear earlier, Gil was always planning to travel at the end of this week, so it was arranged that I would be here with you on Thursday and Friday. It is very nice to see you all—there are many familiar names—and welcome to anyone who's just joining.

For this meditation, I want to bring up an image. There's a picture book from some decades ago—I think it's actually called Zoom1. I know "zoom" has a whole different meaning now, but this starts out as a series of pictures. On each page, there is a picture, and it starts out—I don't remember the first picture, maybe it's a dog—and then on the next page, you see that the dog is sitting by a pool with some people. On the next page, you see that this is actually a picture on a postcard that somebody is writing while sitting aboard a ship.

Each time you turn the page, you see that what you saw and conceived as the whole picture was actually just a little piece of something bigger going on. It goes back and back, giving the impression that there's a lot more going on than just this one little thing and my limited understanding of it from the context I have.

I think this can be a valuable idea for meditation: the image that each thing arising has a place in a bigger picture that we can't see completely. Once we have this perspective, it becomes less appealing to decide whether something belongs or not, what its function is, or whether it "should" be there. We don't quite know that in the moment, so we might as well let everything arise and be itself.

Let's go ahead and sit, finding a posture where you feel comfortable and relaxed. Close the eyes if that's appropriate for you, and bring the attention inward. Cast a soft, gentle gaze at the body and the mind as they are now, just taking in what's there.

Soften the body, inviting some ease into the shoulders, the belly, and down into the legs. Invite some ease into the mind, bringing a softness to our awareness—a sense of tranquility and protection for this time we are here. Having a chance to sit, just for now, there doesn't need to be anything else.

Maybe take a couple of long, slow, deep breaths. On the out-breath, soften the body and the mind, connecting them so there's a sense of the body being part of the larger picture of what the mind knows. Let the breath return to normal; it's fine as it is.

Begin to notice the changing experience that the mind is naturally receiving. Sometimes it notices the body—the contact points, the breath, or something uncomfortable—and sometimes it's aware of an emotion or a thought. With mindfulness, we can know that we're knowing. Sometimes that "knowing" becomes prominent. See if you can see these different arisings as part of some larger flow that we're not quite seeing all of, which is fine. Each thing comes in supported by its conditions, has its place, and fades away—or perhaps persists for a while.

Bringing in this sense of "I might not have the whole picture" can support a relaxation in the mind to let everything arise and have its place. We can't really say that it doesn't belong, so why not relax? If there is a sense of judging, rejecting, or deciding about something, that too is just one more thing that can arise and have its place. "Oh, there's a pain, and there's the sense that it shouldn't be there. There's fear that it will get worse." Okay, that too is part of this bigger picture.

In this way, experience becomes free of the limitations we place on it by deciding what it already is. Can we rest with that?

[Silence]

We may notice that sometimes the mind grabs onto something in experience because it thinks it knows what it is, what it should be, and how it can be changed. It wants to "chew" on it, fix it, or get rid of it in some way. We can notice that movement as one that feels tight and limited, and then release the experience back into the flow. It is as if we've pulled a fish out of a stream; how much better it feels to toss it back in and let the stream keep flowing. Keep letting the big picture unfold and be itself, free of us, in a sense.

[Silence]

Sometimes what arises is expected or agreeable. We think it fits, it's right, it's what we wanted. Sometimes what arises is unexpected, disturbing, or painful. We quickly decide, "That's not right; that shouldn't be." But that response is just one more arising.

It takes some trust to allow something unpleasant to be part of the bigger picture, and yet that's the invitation of a practice that sees things as they are. We offer just a bit more trust that the big picture can include everything, and our awareness can be there for everything as it is.

[Silence]

In the last few minutes of this meditation, perhaps take a moment now to look back at yourself and how it has been during this sit. In trying to allow this bigger picture—this sense that we don't know everything and so we can't say what belongs and doesn't belong—what impact has that had on your inner life? It can sometimes bring a sense of spaciousness, respect, or humility. It can also bring some fear or uncertainty; maybe we're not so much in control. All of these are part of that bigger picture, too—part of how it is to be a human in a changing and unpredictable world.

Maybe as you go out into the day or the evening, you could carry some useful part of this sense that there might be something more going on that I don't know. Maybe this person I'm talking with is having a hard time right now, and that's why they're not paying as much attention to me as I thought they should. Maybe something has broken, but it was much older than I thought, or it was just the time. Maybe something seems to be lost or gone, but it's making space for something new—or it's not. We can't know, but the bigger picture is unfolding, and we are always a part of it.

We have a choice to participate as a true participant—one who allows other people and other things to be as they are. We respond without reacting, without rejecting, without trying to fix and judge and make everything as we want it. With a bit more grace, we may find that other people respond well to a softer approach.

May each person find their way in this bigger picture. May we give them the space to do so, including ourselves. May we each find the balance, the perspective, and the peace that allows us to calmly know what is unfolding and be a part of it.

Dharmette: Hindrances and Wholesomeness (4 of 5) Ill Will

This week, Gil has been talking about the hindrances2 from a particular perspective: the framework that the five hindrances are unwholesome strategies the mind has adopted to handle the challenges of a human life. One of the ways to become free of these hindrances is to see clearly and honestly that each one is unwholesome or unhealthy, and to actually feel that in the moment as a somatic experience. In the calm knowing of that, and the willingness to feel what is unhealthy about our mind's strategy, we reduce the "stickiness" of that hindrance and eventually learn to navigate life more freely without collapsing into these patterns.

We're going through them backwards because doing so highlights that the fundamental issue lies in the fifth hindrance, which is usually translated as doubt3 or uncertainty. More specifically, it means we aren't clear on what is wholesome and what is unwholesome. If we don't have that discernment, we can't see when the other hindrances are present.

The good news is that through mindfulness practice, we're strengthening that ability to discern. If we keep paying attention to our experience with the understanding that there are healthy ways to be with it and also unhealthy ones, we enhance our ability to see clearly.

Today we're moving on to the second hindrance, which is called ill will4 (Byāpāda). This is about reacting to the challenges of life with hostility, rejection, or pushing away—anger, blame, and judgment. It’s good to start by understanding that not all instances of "turning away" are unhealthy. There are times when it is skillful for our well-being to say, "No, not right now," or "Thank you, but I'm not going to engage with that."

The hindrance, however, is the ill will that comes along with that. It’s a negative regard for a person, a mind state, or a situation—sometimes even a wish for harm. The underlying sense that "that's bad," "that's wrong," or "that shouldn't be" is what covers over the mind's ability to be with the reality of experience. Remember that the hindrances are "coverings"; that is the literal meaning of the Pali word nīvaraṇa. If we have the sense that something shouldn't be here, we can't connect with and engage with experience fully. The moment may be very unpleasant, but it is still unhealthy to attack it or reject it with hostility.

One issue with ill will is that it gets tied in with other hindrances very easily. It can pull in agitation—the hindrance of restlessness and anxiety5. Ill will can also lead to sinking down into rigidity, torpor, or shutting down. When we are rejecting experience, we can easily slide into those states.

It is important that we get to know this quality of ill will. The mind often has to really feel it in the body to recognize its unwholesomeness. Before our ill will has any impact on the person or situation we feel hostile toward, it has a damaging impact on us. There is an image in the Suttas where the Buddha likens anger to grasping a stick smeared with excrement in order to attack someone6; before you have any impact outwardly, you have touched something very unclean. This points to a visceral feeling we can have. The trick is to feel the ill will itself, rather than just being caught up in what we are averse to. Usually, the mind jumps on the object: "That thing is wrong! It needs to be gotten rid of!" We don't often turn and see what that feeling inside us is.

When we pick up the "stick" of anger, we might feel powerful and right. We might think it will be effective. There can actually be a pleasant feeling—a sense of energy, power, and strength. It is a pleasant feeling, but it is not a wholesome pleasant feeling. If we tune only into the power, we might miss the excrement. Another image the Buddha gave for anger is that it has a "honeyed tip and a poison root"7. This points to the fact that anger comes from the root of hatred (dosa). In a moment of hostility, there might be both a pleasant component (the power) and an underlying feeling of disease (the "excrement" part).

Think about the stress that arises in a moment of anger. There is a clenching, a contraction, or a distortion of energy. It can almost be nauseating if we really turn toward it. If we are careful with our mindfulness, we can feel this poison root.

Another image for ill will is that it's like a disease. Being caught in ill will—identified with our anger or aversion—is like being sick. We are not in balance or harmony; we are not with the flow of life. The texts specifically mention not digesting well. This might point toward Indian medical traditions, but it's true: when we're sick, we don't digest food well. When we go around with a reactive way of being, we aren't nourished by our life. There is beautiful food available around us, but we don't benefit from it. People who are habitually hostile could be said to be starving amid plenty because they have become unhealthy from the inside.

It is important to see this pattern operating in real time. This quality of "calm knowing" is so helpful. We can cultivate the calm knowing of two things:

  1. The object we find repulsive or upsetting. Mindfulness allows us to create a little gap so we aren't just automatically reacting.
  2. Ill will itself as a hindrance. It's not just about learning to tolerate unpleasant things; we want to see that ill will is simply a reaction our confused mind comes up with when trying to navigate a challenging world.

Human life is not easy. It’s not easy to live in this body and navigate the world. We don't have to add judgment by thinking, "Spiritual people shouldn't be angry." That just adds more ill will and negative regard for ourselves. If you find a moment of ill will—and I certainly still have some in my system—there is no need to identify with it and say, "I'm such an angry person." We simply see it, and in doing so, we have a measure of freedom.

I was once on a retreat where we had practice discussions held outside under a tree. There were birds in the tree, and one of them pooped onto the head of someone in the group. She reached up, realized what it was, and her face contracted in repulsion. She looked up and said, "Dirty little thing!" Then she went to the bathroom to wash. She was a strong practitioner, and by the time she came back, she was smiling. She had seen the sequence: an unpleasant experience, followed by a reaction of hostility toward the bird.

Now, the bird was not to blame. It is appropriate to find bird excrement unpleasant and want to wash it off—that's taking normal care of our health. But can we do that with calm awareness? "Here is what happened; I will respond appropriately."

With ongoing practice, maybe we can learn to receive the "bird poop of life" and just do what needs to be done. The Buddha says we can stand free of the influence of ill will. If we do that, we abide with care for the well-being of all beings—including ourselves, wanting to be free of the poison of ill will.

Letting go of ill will is not about denying that difficult things exist or living in a blissful fantasy. It’s about doing what needs to be done without the reactivity that harms us before it does anything else. I hope this gives some flavor of how we can meet this reaction and include it as just one more thing that's going on. As Gil said yesterday, we can "ride our bicycle" more freely, not always getting drawn in.

Remember: there's probably a bigger picture. We don't need to reject what's going on; we may not be seeing it all. Just respond as calmly as you can.

Thank you, and be well.


Footnotes

  1. Zoom: A wordless picture book by Istvan Banyai (1995) that uses a series of "nested" illustrations to show how each scene is part of a larger context.

  2. Five Hindrances (Nīvaraṇa): In Buddhist teaching, these are mental states that "cover" the mind and block its clarity: Sensory Desire, Ill Will, Sloth and Torpor, Restlessness and Remorse, and Doubt.

  3. Doubt (Vicikicchā): The fifth hindrance, often characterized as a lack of clarity, indecision, or a "two-way path" regarding what is wholesome or how to practice.

  4. Ill Will (Byāpāda): The second hindrance, encompassing states ranging from mild irritation and aversion to intense anger and hostility.

  5. Restlessness and Remorse (Uddhacca-kukkucca): The fourth hindrance, involving an agitated, scattered mind and anxiety or guilt about past actions.

  6. Excrement Stick Simile: A classic Buddhist teaching (often found in commentaries like the Visuddhimagga) illustrating that holding onto anger harms the person holding it first, much like picking up a piece of dung to throw at another.

  7. Honeyed Tip and Poison Root: From the Samyutta Nikaya 11.21, where the Buddha says of anger: "With its honeyed crest and poison root... having slain it, one does not sorrow."