DEN FØRSTE OG DEN ANDEN PIL
Hvordan forholder vi os til, at livet kan være svært?
Livets smerte
Når vi har fokus på, hvad vi kan gøre ved en tilværelse med udfordringer, er det vigtigt at forholde os til, hvordan vi forholder os til vores sorger, vanskeligheder og bekymringer.
Som jeg plejer at sige det: (hvilket muligvis er et lånt citat, jeg har blot ikke kunne finde ud af hvorfra)
“En ting er, hvordan vi har det, noget andet er, hvordan vi tager det.”
Vi kan ikke undgå smerte i livet. Hvis vi har en livskritisk sygdom, bliver skilt, er pårørende, psykisk sårbar, er hjemløs, har tandpine eller ondt i ryggen – du kan selv fortsætte listen – gør det ondt. Det er en naturlig del af livet. Og det, som Buddha kalder den første pil.
Den anden pil er, hvordan vi reagerer på denne uundgåelige smerte i livet. Forholder vi os til den, prøver vi på at fikse den, fortrænger vi den eller bruger vi den til at slå os selv oven i hovedet med? Hvis vi har modstand på at forholde os på en sund måde til det i livet, der gør ondt, gør vi det kun sværere for os selv. Dermed bliver smerte forandret til lidelse og deri består den anden pil.
Eller som Buddha sagde det: Den første pil gør ondt, måske meget ondt. Når endnu en pil rammer oveni den første pil, gør det mere end dobbelt ondt.
No Mud, No Lotus
Jeg kan ikke nok anbefale at læse Thich Nhat Hahns bog No Mud, No Lotus.
Det er en lille tynd bog, der er fuld af Thays poetiske ord, når han er bedst. Bogen handler om, hvordan der ikke kan eksistere mørke uden lys, sorg uden glæde, kærlighed uden afsked.
Hele bogens omdrejningspunkt er ”How to suffer well?”.
Jeg har læst bogen af flere omgange og har hver gang forstået dybden af Thich Nhat Hanhs visdom på nye måder. Den er en af de bøger, der har lært mig mest om, at livet både er svært og godt og om, hvordan vi netop ved at forholde os til, at livet er svært, kan begynde at omfavne de gode sider af livet også.
Releasing the Arrow
“There is a Buddhist teaching found in the Sallatha Sutta, known as The Arrow. It says if an arrow hits you, you will feel pain in that part of your body where the arrow hit; and then if a second arrow comes and strikes exactly at the same spot, the pain will not be only double, it will become at least ten times more intense.
The unwelcome things that sometimes happen in life—being rejected, losing a valuable object, failing a test, getting injured in an accident—are analogous to the first arrow. They cause some pain. The second arrow, fired by our own selves, is our reaction, our storyline, and our anxiety. All these things magnify the suffering. Many times, the ultimate disaster we’re ruminating upon hasn’t even happened. We may worry, for example, that we have cancer and that we’re going to die soon. We don’t know, and our fear of the unknown makes the pain grow even bigger.
The second arrow may take the form of judgment (“how could I have been so stupid?”), fear (“what if the pain doesn’t go away?”), or anger (“I hate that I’m in pain. I don’t deserve this!”). We can quickly conjure up a hell realm of negativity in our minds that multiplies the stress of the actual event, by ten times or even more. Part of the art of suffering well is learning not to magnify our pain by getting carried away in fear, anger, and despair. We build and maintain our energy reserves to handle the big sufferings; the little sufferings we can let go.
If you lose your job, of course it’s a normal response to feel fear and anxiety. It is true that in most cases to be out of work is a suffering; and there is real danger attached if you don’t have enough to eat or can’t afford necessary medicine. But you don’t need to make this suffering worse by spinning stories in your head that are much worse than the reality. Some people in this situation may think “I’m no good at this or that,” or ‘I’ll never get another job,” or ‘I failed my family.” It’s important to remember that everything is impermanent. A suffering can arise—or can work itself out—for anyone at any moment.
Instead of throwing good energy away on condemning yourself or obsessing over what catastrophes might be lurking around the corner, you can simply be present with the real suffering that is right in front of you, with what is happening right now. Mindfulness is recognizing what is there in the present moment. Suffering is there, yes; but what is also there is that you are still alive: “Breathing in, I know I’m alive.” Your eyes still work: “Breathing in, I’m aware of my eyes. Breathing out, I smile to my eyes.”
To have eyes in good condition is a wonderful thing. Because you have eyes in good condition, there’s a paradise of shapes and colors available to you at every moment.”
(c) uddrag fra Thich Nhat Hanh: No Mud, No Lotus: The Art of Transforming Suffering.