Co-habitating with Cobras & Other Common Human Experiences.

In her celebrated book, When Things Fall Apart, American Buddhist nun and master, Pema Chodrin, provided an accessible way for novices like me, to understand Buddhist beliefs and methodologies.  It would actually make for some pretty good reading in the new year for those seeking to deepen their contemplative practice. 

When I read it, years ago, I accessed it on two channels.  First, I heard it with the ears of a counselor who’s made common cause with innumerable clients who have found themselves shouldering heavy loads of anxiety or depression.  In Chodrin’s Tibetan Buddhist teachings, I was looking for tips or practices that could help lighten their loads…even just a little.  The second way I received it, was through the ears of a fellow wayfarer who travels through life with the weight of anxiety in my own psycho-spiritual backpack.  In the course of my reading, an anecdote—more parable than story—stood out for me.  As with any good story, its facticity is less important than its meaning.  I’ll paraphrase it.    

A Buddhist Novice Spends the Night with a Cobra

A novice, who aspired to be a full-fledged Buddhist monk, was sent to a meditation hut by his teacher.  His task?  To spend an entire night in that tiny space, meditating.  After an hour or so, he comes to the dreadful realization that he’s sharing his little chapel with a king cobra snake!  Too scared to fight, too scared to flee, the novice sits frozen.  All he can really do is breathe, and hope that this incredibly lethal predator won’t attack him.  He cries.  He suffers.  He agonizes.  

By-and-by, the novice’s almost certain death causes him to take stock of his life.  All through the night, he sits thinking about the preciousness of the life he has had, praising all the wonders of his existence.  In the morning, all in tears, he finally gets up and bows before the snake as he leaves the hut changed forever.  

What Happened During My Personal Novitiate

Many years ago, I was fortunate enough to undergo my own personal novitiate, under the wise direction of a spiritual giant, Vince Hovley, SJ.  For thirty days, I remained in silence, except for a once-a-day spiritual conference with my master.  During each session, I would spool out my experience of the previous twenty-four hours.   He would listen with a discerning ear.  At the end of each session, he would present me with directions for my next twenty-four hour journey.  

I had originally come to that retreat house to put myself through the paces of Ignatius Loyola’s five hundred year-old recipe for enlightenment:  The Spiritual Exercises.  I came into that retreat the way a Sixteenth Century knight, like Ignatius, would have gone into battle.  I was ready to take on the powers of hell with fasting, self-denial, or for that matter, meditating all night with a venomous snake.  My theme song could have been Dianna Ross’s, “ain’t no mountain high enough; ain’t no valley low enough!”

To make a long story short, Father Vince wasn’t having it!  I recall his wise and gentle smile as he deftly redirected my adolescent energy.  “The discipline you’ll be practicing on this retreat, will most certainly be harsh and rigorous.”  He had discerned, unbeknownst to me, that I was called to this retreat in order to practice the “harsh and rigorous discipline of self-compassion.”  Thankfully, I resisted the immediate impulse to switch spiritual directors.  The pathway he showed me over the course of that month, led to a subtle, but powerful experience of an individuated intimacy with God.  In many ways, I’m still uncovering the fruit of that retreat—for example, two nights ago, here’s what happened.    

When a Snake Showed up During My Meditation

Exactly twice, over the course of the last fifteen years, my usual pesky companion, Anxiety, burst its boundaries and metastasized into panic attacks.  If you’ve ever had one of these, you’re not soon to forget it.  Two nights ago, while doing my evening contemplation, I felt the beginnings of a third one coming on!  Immediately, I remembered Pema Chodrin’s heroic parable of the novice monk sitting through his panic until the morning light, when he ended his ordeal with a graceful bow.  

My resolution to emulate this monk, and sit with the king cobra of a panic attack lasted exactly thirty seconds.  Instead, I got up and did what I recommend my clients do.  I shared my ordeal with my trusty friend, Lisa.  Together we launched ourselves into a rigorous walk.  Once the stress hormones had sufficiently burned away, I was able to recall the mediate and immediate causal factors leading to this unwelcomed intrusion into my psycho-spiritual hut.  

A Reflection

Who would have thought that I could still be tempted by the spiritual perfectionism that Vince Hovley spotted in me decades ago?  Again, and again, I am trying to absorb what he tried to teach me.  The spiritual life is not designed to make me super-human like a monk who can face down a cobra.  The goal of my spiritual life is intimacy with the ground and horizon of my being:  God.  I am slowly learning that the royal road to intimacy with God (and for that matter resilience) has to do with a compassionate acceptance of myself…just the way I am.  

Looking for a New Year’s resolution?  How’s ‘bout a rigorous daily practice of self-compassion?

A Spiritual Exercise for You

Below, I have provided a link to that familiar old classical piece, “Pachelbel’s Cannon.”  From time-to-time, I’ve found that this piece has a way of transporting me to a higher or deeper place.  As you listen to it, ask for the gift of a kind of sacred free-association to see yourself over the course of your life as God sees you—delighting in every part of yourself.