Free Living Beautifully with Uncertainty and Change by Pema Chödrön Page B

acknowledging that we broke it, that we hardened our heart and closed our mind, that we shut someone out. And then we can retake our vow. On the spot—or as a daily practice—we can reaffirm our intention to keep the door open to all sentient beings for the rest of our life. That’s the training of the spiritual warrior, the training of cultivating courage and empathy, the training of cultivating love. It would be impossible to count the number of beings in the world who are hurting, but still we aspire to not give up on any of them and to do whatever we can to alleviate their pain.
    Needless to say, we probably won’t do this perfectly. I once had the experience of sitting quietly on my bed, reading Shantideva and crying because I was so moved to be loving and compassionate. Then someone burst into the room, and I blew up at her for interrupting me.
    Experiences like that are definitely humbling. They can either cause us to spin off into self-criticism or inspire us to renew our intention to be there for others, no matter what they trigger. Right then, when we miss the mark, we can do the three-step practice. We can use it to catch the spark of irritation, impatience, or disappointment before it bursts into the flames of anger. This practice allows us to look at what’s happening around us while simultaneouslybeing aware of what’s happening inside us. To review the steps:

     
    First, come into the present. Flash on what’s happening with you right now. Be fully aware of your body, its energetic quality. Be aware of your thoughts and emotions.
    Next, feel your heart, literally placing your hand on your chest if you find that helpful. This is a way of accepting yourself just as you are in that moment, a way of saying, “This is my experience right now, and it’s okay.”
    Then go into the next moment without any agenda.

     
    This practice can open us to others at times when we tend to close down. It gives us a way to be awake rather than asleep, a way to look outward rather than withdraw. For example, we often go into a meeting so preoccupied with what we’re going to say that we tune out other people, not hearing what they’re saying or picking up clues about how they’re feeling. But if, before entering, we can ground ourselves by doing the three-step practice, bringing mind and body together right where we are, then we can enter the meeting with an open mind, an inquisitive “let’s see how this unfolds” attitude, rather than being fixated on achieving a specific outcome. We prepare, we know our topic, and then we leap. This was how I was taught to teach. I read, I take notes, I decide what I want to say. And then I go into the room and speak without any props.
    Many years ago, one of the monks at Gampo Abbey introduced me to the practice of saying to myself when Iwake up, “I wonder what will happen today.” That’s the spirit of taking a leap.
    As we continue to do this practice, whether as a formal meditation or on the spot throughout the day, we become more and more skilled at noticing when we’re activated. So we come into the present—“synchronizing body and mind,” as Chögyam Trungpa called it—then drop the story line and open to the person or situation at hand. This is the foundation for caring for one another, for extending ourselves to others with kindness and compassion. This is the practice of claiming our warriorship rather than being swept away by our thoughts and emotions.
    Granted, there’s a discrepancy between the inclusiveness of the second commitment and the reality that there are, for sure, people we have trouble liking. Boss, coworker, spouse, roommate, mother, father, child—who are the people you really dislike and wish would simply go away? Who’s on your list? Be grateful to them: they’re your own special gurus, showing up right on time to keep you honest. It’s the troublemakers in your life who cause you to see that you’ve shut down, that you’ve armored