Question sent to the teachers: “I’m struggling with self-compassion. I have a deep-seated sense of self-blame when I’m hurt. I’m African American and female and, culturally, my family and friends value focusing on what you can control and not using the ‘isms,’ such as racism and sexism, as a crutch. I believe this is where my self-blame comes from. How can I develop self-compassion in the midst of a coping mechanism that has helped my family survive poverty, racism and sexism? In other words, self-blame has been both empowering and a large source of suffering. How can I better sit through the pain of social injustice?”
Tara Brach: I really loved this question. I thought it was a really powerful question. It has a wisdom in it that recognizes what I sometimes call a false refuge in that we in blaming — blaming the culture, blaming those that are representatives and leaders of that culture — are blaming ourselves. There is a kind of temporary sense of that’s how we can control things. So there’s a temporary sense of power or coping by blaming. So there’s kind of a recognition in that. And yet not blaming doesn’t mean passivity. So that the inquiry to me is how to not blame myself and not blame the culture and yet really open with compassion to the pain that’s here. So the first step for all of us — and this is one particular circumstance — but for any one who has somehow turned it inward — “I am bad, I am failing, I’m wrong” — the first real piece of this is to pause and open to the actual vulnerability of that to where that feels terrible. It takes a lot of forgiveness and a lot of courage. …
Jack Kornfield: To add to that, much of the suffering that we cause to one another — individually or collectively — is because we haven’t learned how to be with our particular measure of sorrows and difficulties. James Baldwin wrote, “I believe that one of the reasons that people cling to their hate and ignorance so stubbornly is because hey sense that once hate is gone, they will be forced to deal with their own pain.” So whether we place it on another race or gender or orientation or culture, as we do, it’s because we haven’t learned to be with the ten thousand joys and sorrows that make up our human life. We haven’t somehow discovered the buddha nature of ourselves, the great heart of compassion and wisdom that is our birthright. When we do discover it, we become more like Nelson Mandela walking out of Robin Island Prison after twenty-seven years with such dignity and magnanimity and graciousness and wakefulness that he became luminous — transformative energy — for Africa and the world. Or Aung San Suu Syi — I just got back from Burma …
My thoughts on this exchange: I identify with, feel compassion for, and love the question asked. It makes me think about the sense of survival across generations and the awareness of surviving in a new way but honoring the survival strategies that have allowed her to exist and chart that new way — honoring even the price that our ancestors and family have paid to survive as they have. This question invokes a very skillful love and recognition.
The answers are disappointing. They are stock answers. I transcribe them here not to tear down the answers but to find my own. I do love the stock phrases in the answers — “buddha nature,” “great heart of compassion,” “refuge.” I do take inspiration from James Baldwin, Aung San Suu Syi, and Nelson Mandela. But I don’t want to settle with these phrases and these figures, exemplary as they are.
Like all my fellow yogis testifying to their ancestors and descendants at Vallecitos, I want to continue to look honestly at the true nature of our lives as people of color, our realities shaped by not just “isms” but by our collective memories of living with “the pain of social injustice.” Honoring the brokenness of our selves and our spirits as we live in this broken world. Intending to chart a new path of survival that respects, honors and heals that brokenness, rather than breaking away completely from the ways that you have learned to hurt yourself, the ways that your ancestors have learned to hurt themselves, and the ways that parents and siblings and aunts and uncles and cousins and grandparents have hurt you in the process of surviving. Grieving all of that.
Source: Tara Brach and Jack Kornfield, Questions and Responses, Insight Meditation Community of Washington DC, May 13, 2009. http://www.dharmaseed.org/teacher/175/talk/6381/
Oct 28th