when things fall apart

quotes from the book when things fall apart by pema chodron.....

the view behind every single talk was that we could step into uncharted territory and relax with the groundlessness of our situation.  the other underlying theme was dissolving the dualistic tension between us and them, this and that, good and bad, by inviting in what we usually avoid.... there is definitely something tender and throbbing about groundlessness.

right now - in the very instant of groundlessness - is the seed of taking care of those who need our care and of discovering our goodness.

fear is a natural reaction to moving closer to the truth... what we're talking about is getting to know fear, becoming familiar with fear, looking it right in the eye - not as a way to solve problems, but as a complete undoing of old ways of seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting, and thinking.  the truth is that when we really begin to do this, we're going to be continually humbled. the kinds of discoveries that are made through practice... have much more to do with having the courage to die, the courage to die continually.

i once asked the zen master kobun chino roshi how he related with fear, and he said, "i agree.  i agree."

in a place where there was so much practice and study going on, i could not get lost in trying to justify myself and blame others.  that kind of exit was not available.

...that much intimacy with fear caused his dramas to collapse, and the world around him finally got through.

sometimes it's because of illness or death that we find ourselves in this place.  we experience a sense of loss. . . things falling apart is a kind of testing and also a kind of healing.  we think that the point is to pass the test or to overcome the problem, but the truth is that things don't really get solved.  they come together and they fall apart.  then they come together again and fall apart again... the healing comes from letting there be room for all of this to happen: room for grief, for relief, for misery, for joy.

letting there be room for not knowing is the most important thing of all.

we react against the possibility of loneliness, of death, of not having anything to hold on to... thinking that we can find some lasting pleasure and avoid pain is what in buddhism is called samsara, a hopeless cycle that goes round and round endlessly and causes us to suffer greatly.

when anyone asks me how i got involved in buddhism, i always say that it was because i was so angry with my husband.  the truth is that he saved my life.  when that marriage fell apart, i tried hard - very, very hard - to go back to some kind of comfort, some kind of security, some kind of familiar resting place.  fortunately for me, i could never pull it off.  instinctively i knew that annihilation of my old dependent, clinging self was the only way to go.

only to the extent that we expose ourselves over and over to annihilation can that which is indestructible be found in us... most of us do not take these situations as teachings. we automatically hate them. we run like crazy. we use all kinds of ways to escape -- all addictions stem from this moment when we meet our edge and we just can't stand it. we feel we have to soften it, pad it with something, and we become addicted to whatever it is that seems to ease the pain.

the naropa institute motto: "love of the truth puts you on the spot"

we don't set out to save the world; we set out to wonder how other people are doing and to reflect on how our actions affect other people's hearts.

as human beings, not only do we seek resolution, but we also feel that we deserve resolution. however, not only do we not deserve resolution, we suffer from resolution. we don't deserve resolution; we deserve something better than that. we deserve our birthright, which is the middle way, an open state of mind that can relax with paradox and ambiguity.

it's a transformative experience to simply pause instead of immediately fill up the space. by waiting, we begin to connect with fundamental restlessness as well as fundamental spaciousness.

nothing ever goes away until it has taught us what we need to know… nothing ever really attacks us except our own confusion. perhaps there is no solid obstacle except our own need to protect ourselves from being touched. maybe the only enemy is that we don’t like the way reality is now and therefore wish it would go away fast. but what we find as practitioners is that nothing ever goes away until it has taught us what we need to know. if we run a hundred miles an hour to the other end of the continent in order to get away from the obstacle, we find the very same problem waiting for us when we arrive. it just keeps returning with new names, forms, manifestations until we learn whatever it has to teach us about where we are separating ourselves from reality, how we are pulling back instead of opening up, closing down instead of allowing ourselves to experience fully whatever we encounter, without hesitating or retreating into ourselves.

the only reason we don't open our hearts and minds to other people is that they trigger confusion in us that we don't feel brave enough or sane enough to deal with. to the degree that we look clearly and compassionately at ourselves, we feel confident and fearless about looking into someone else's eyes... if we learn to open our hearts, anyone, including the people who drive us crazy, can be our teacher.

the greatest obstacle to connecting with our joy is resentment.