Top 5 Regrets of the Living

A dear friend died yesterday, someone I was supposed to do a project with. As always, the news of death rings the alarm for those of us still living. We may ask, am I living my life well?

For answers, let us turn to those at the end of life. These are the Top 5 Regrets of the Dying:

1. I wish I'd had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.
2. I wish I hadn't worked so hard.
3. I wish I'd had the courage to express my feelings.
4. I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends.
5. I wish that I had let myself be happier.

No need to wait for the end to become wise. Looking back on my life, I have my own list of regrets, mistakes made along the way that I wish to not repeat. Here it is:

1. I wish I had spent less time in fear
2. I wish I had spent less time in anger
3. I wish I had been more wise in some of my choices
4. I wish I had discovered mindfulness earlier
5. I wish I had understood loving kindness earlier

What is your list?

Two Darts, Or Just One?

On a long walk by myself yesterday, there were plenty of pleasures to be had. Temperature just right, enough sun to brighten the moment, flowers going nuts with colors, birds singing what sounded like happy notes . . . it would have been a perfect experience, except for the pain in my right shoulder.  I noticed the mind's habits with such unpleasantness. First tightening, and rebelling against such a spoiler, soon turning into full blown unpleasantness and hatred of the moment. Then, searching for a way out, hoping for pleasure to be found again, quick. From there, escaping into the world of thoughts, thinking about the future, work to be done, the pleasure of food awaiting at home . . . Anything but being in this moment. It worked. There was no more pain, only a vague dullness and the quasi-satisfaction of imagined pleasures. Nothing wrong with that, except for the subtle sadness of knowing that this was one more moment not fully lived, a delaying of the cultivation of real happiness. The hour turned into a reflection on The Dart sutta:

"When an untaught worldling is touched by a painful (bodily) feeling, he worries and grieves, he laments, beats his breast, weeps and is distraught. He thus experiences two kinds of feelings, a bodily and a mental feeling. It is as if a man were pierced by a dart and, following the first piercing, he is hit by a second dart [...]

"Having been touched by that painful feeling, he resists (and resents) it. Then in him who so resists (and resents) that painful feeling, an underlying tendency of resistance against that painful feeling comes to underlie (his mind). Under the impact of that painful feeling he then proceeds to enjoy sensual happiness. And why does he do so? An untaught worldling, O monks, does not know of any other escape from painful feelings except the enjoyment of sensual happiness. Then in him who enjoys sensual happiness, an underlying tendency to lust for pleasant feelings comes to underlie (his mind). He does not know, according to facts, the arising and ending of these feelings, nor the gratification, the danger and the escape, connected with these feelings. In him who lacks that knowledge, an underlying tendency to ignorance as to neutral feelings comes to underlie (his mind). When he experiences a pleasant feeling, a painful feeling or a neutral feeling, he feels it as one fettered by it. Such a one, O monks, is called an untaught worldling who is fettered by birth, by old age, by death, by sorrow, lamentation, pain, grief and despair. He is fettered by suffering, this I declare.

"But in the case of a well-taught noble disciple, O monks, when he is touched by a painful feeling, he will not worry nor grieve and lament, he will not beat his breast and weep, nor will he be distraught. It is one kind of feeling he experiences, a bodily one, but not a mental feeling. It is as if a man were pierced by a dart, but was not hit by a second dart following the first one [...]

"Having been touched by that painful feeling, he does not resist (and resent) it. Hence, in him no underlying tendency of resistance against that painful feeling comes to underlie (his mind). Under the impact of that painful feeling he does not proceed to enjoy sensual happiness. And why not? As a well-taught noble disciple he knows of an escape from painful feelings other than by enjoying sensual happiness. Then in him who does not proceed to enjoy sensual happiness, no underlying tendency to lust for pleasant feelings comes to underlie (his mind). He knows, according to facts, the arising and ending of those feelings, and the gratification, the danger and the escape connected with these feelings. In him who knows thus, no underlying tendency to ignorance as to neutral feelings comes to underlie (his mind). When he experiences a pleasant feeling, a painful feeling or a neutral feeling, he feels it as one who is not fettered by it. Such a one, O monks, is called a well-taught noble disciple who is not fettered by birth, by old age, by death, by sorrow, lamentation, pain, grief and despair. He is not fettered to suffering, this I declare.

Turning towards the pain in the shoulder, watching it dissolve eventually . . . and being replaced by a myriad of sensations as  I walked down Stanford avenue. Some pleasant, some not so pleasant, some without a known quality. Pain eventually moved to the other side. The body's got its own ideas. Nothing to do but watch, and make the best of each moment. I thought of the Buddha's last moments, ridden with physical pain. I need to guard against the confusion in my mind, between pain and unhappiness, and pleasure and happiness. Not worrying about what the next moment may bring in terms of pain, also allows one to relax. 

How do you deal with pain, both physical and emotional pain? 

Uppers and Downers for the Heart

Twice lately, I came across stories that uplifted my heart.

The first one is about SOIL, a nonprofit organization led by a young Stanford grad, Sasha Kramer who  is helping solve some of the most pressing problems facing the people of Haiti, with one simple initiative: compostable toilets.

The second one features Dan Sudran, the founder of the Mission Science Workshop in San Francisco. Moved by his love of science and the will to make a difference, Dan developed a grassroot science education organization now serving over 250 city children every week. 

Each time, same expansion felt in the heart, and a great gladness that steadies me in my resolution to continue with my own work.

Uppers for the heart, I call them.

The heart, such a fragile organ . . . It does not take much for the tide to turn either way, up or down.

Down my heart goes whenever I let mind linger into stories that do me no good. 

Several times during the day, I catch myself thinking of a man whose repeated misdeeds continue to run havoc in a community. Although I have removed myself from the situation, there are still ripples to be felt from that person's actions. And each time, the danger of heart contracting in anger and fear. The mind has this malicious tendency of wanting to linger in filth. 

If not that man, another one also triggers me to go down a downward path despite all my good intentions. It does not take much. The mind grabs on to a few words, and off it goes. Once down, it takes a lot of mindfulness and will power to extract oneself from the pit. 

Up or down, which way do you want your heart to go?