SWITCH (Talk 2): Working with Difficult Thoughts | Warning! Danger!
Photo by Gustavo Sanchez
One of the fundamental practices of zazen is to see our thoughts and let them go. But what do we do with a thought that's stubbornly compelling, one that we can’t—or don't want to—let go of?
Continuing her series on the Vitakkasanthana Sutta, Zuisei turns to the second of the five “SWITCH” tools for working with the mind: warning ourselves of the danger of pursuing unwholesome thoughts. Through everyday examples, teachings of modern masters, and a vivid metaphor from the Buddha, she explores how habits of mind form before we're even aware of them, and how, with discernment and practice, we can learn that we always have a choice in how we meet the moment.
This dharma talk on SWITCH, Part 2, was given by Zuisei Goddard. Scroll below for audio and transcript.
Transcript
This transcript is based on Zuisei's talk notes and may differ slightly from the final talk.
SWITCH (Talk 2):
Working with Difficult Thoughts | Warning! Danger!
Tonight I want to speak about the second of the wholesome signs (nimitta) in the Vitakkasanthana Sutta. The first was to replace an unwholesome sign with a wholesome one or, in my rendering, to switch it. The second is to warn yourself about the danger of pursuing unwholesome thoughts.
Just so it's clear, an unwholesome thought is any thought that creates suffering and falls under one of three categories: thoughts connected to desire or craving, thoughts connected to anger or ill will, and thoughts connected to delusion or ignorance. For example, I'm sitting quietly, following my breath, when I feel a little unease in my belly, a little restlessness, and suddenly I start thinking about potato chips. Trouble and anxiety begin not because I'm thinking about chips while I was focusing on my breath, but because I glom on to that thought, turn it into an object, and give it power and energy.
Fantasizing about having a bag of chips while sitting zazen seems innocuous enough. But what if our craving is for sexual pleasure and our fantasy becomes about having someone else? We know the sort of trouble this type of desire can lead to—not because desire is bad or even unwholesome in itself, but because we relate to this and most other desires largely without awareness, without clarity. There's a story about Freud asking a patient, "Are you ever troubled by lustful thoughts?" "Oh no," she replied. "I rather enjoy them." There's nothing wrong with enjoyment, if it is enjoyment and if it's good for all involved.
As you may recall, the first link in the chain of dependent origination, ignorance, leads to mental formations (samskaras). It's these mental formations that give birth to anxiety and trouble. They are the stories we tell ourselves about what we experience and the habits that predispose us to experience things in certain ways.
Why These Thoughts Now?: The Conditioned Mind
In his teaching on dependent origination, Thanissaro Bhikkhu points out something very interesting: the trouble comes before we even have contact. Contact is the sixth link in the chain, which means it's halfway down the sequence. Before that, ignorance creates the conditions for mental formations—the stories we tell ourselves—which condition consciousness, name and form, and the senses, all of which condition contact. This means that much of the trouble appears before we're even aware of it. It's not that I just happened to think of a bag of potato chips. Conditioned by my very strong habits and inclinations, my mind goes looking for that bag of chips without me even realizing it's doing so. I feel a little bored, a little restless, and looking for relief from those feelings, my mind zeroes in on what it so often returns to—chips.
Every time I return to them, I make that habit stronger. That's why Thich Nhat Hanh would say that when you choose a T-shirt to wear in the morning, you think you're choosing the T-shirt, but actually the T-shirt is choosing you. It's not me choosing the chips; it's the chips choosing me. There's a whole net of habits conditioning one another in the mind, and the moment I make contact with the feeling of restlessness, boom—the chips appear. The seed was planted and watered a long time ago. Now it's simply blossoming.
This is why we train the mind, as we're doing through this Vitakkasanthana Sutta, to cultivate more wholesome mental formations. We learn to discern: Is this the appropriate time to think about a bag of potato chips? To think about being intimate with another person? If it isn't, then it would benefit me to let go of this thought until such a time when it is appropriate and good to have it. In that way, I won't create suffering for myself or for others, nor will I treat those others—other things, other beings—with disrespect, objectifying them as if they were here simply to serve me or give me pleasure.
One translation of this sutra says that these five signs are for the “relaxation of distracting thoughts.” I like this phrasing because it points to the possibility of working gently with these types of thoughts. We don't have to fight them; we can relax into them and then let them go. But how do we let go when the thought we're having is compelling, when it feels much more attractive than sitting quietly with our breath?
With some types of thoughts, it's easy to see that continuing to think them is dangerous and will harm us. Sometimes, though, it's not so easy to know this. One way to approach the problem is to ask ourselves: If I were to follow this thought for another hour or two, where would it take me? Would I end up in a better place than I am now? What kind of habit would it build in me? What kind of person will I be, thinking it? Or we could ask, What's the payoff of this thought? Do I get more out of it than the trouble it will cause me? Is it worth it? When grappling with a thought or a behavior, I'll often ask myself, If this were the last hour of my life, is this what I'd want to be thinking or doing?
The purpose of this second tool is to make this process of discernment deliberate and to create the conditions that will make it easier to let go of a thought. How? By warning ourselves of the danger of these unwholesome signs.
Taking Responsibility:
Creating the Conditions for Wholesome Thoughts
First, we can be very practical. The more I feed this fantasy, the stronger it gets. The stronger it gets, the harder it is to concentrate and the more urgent the need to fulfill that desire. That energy, that momentum, isn't building by itself. I'm feeding it. That's what's important to understand. It's not our fault, as I said last week, but it is our responsibility. It's not my fault if I often turn to distraction or entertainment when I start to get a little quiet. Maybe, over time, I've learned to equate silence with danger because silence happened when one of my parents was angry. Silence meant there was something wrong, but I didn't know what. I learned to equate silence with a feeling of threat, and that now makes it hard for me to be with myself. It's not my fault I developed these habits, but it is my responsibility. If every time I feel uncomfortable I turn to distraction to soothe myself, that's going to have consequences in my life. Maybe I won't be able to be present for others or for my work, particularly when a situation is uncomfortable. It'll definitely be hard to meditate.
As I become more aware of these forces operating in me, and as I become better able to train my mind, I also realize that I'm not a victim of my thoughts. Once a thought has appeared, I have a choice about whether to feed it or let it lie. I have a choice. This may be the single most important statement we can bring to mind when we're struggling with our wild and wily minds. We have a choice about how to meet this moment, and this is what these tools are helping us to do.
We can also be expansive with this tool. We can remind ourselves that at the moment of our deaths, we'll have to let go of everything. If we're not building that ability now, when it's relatively easy, it's going to be very challenging to do it when it's hard.
Once a thought has appeared, I have a choice about whether to feed it or let it lie. I have a choice.
I've heard more than one teacher say recently that the last thought before your death is the most important because it's going to determine what happens next. One teacher said, "If you see death is close, bring to mind the good that you've done in your life. Don't worry about what you haven't done. Don't obsess about what you did wrong. Think about the things you did that were good and hold those in your mind." Which means we have to be able to bring them to mind.
Sati, the Pali word for mindfulness, also means remembering. We have to be able to remember, even under duress. One teacher I know made a list of those things and carries it with him wherever he goes. Periodically he reviews it and adds to it if need be. He doesn't want to be caught unawares, unable to remember what he needs to remember in that most important moment. So we can remind ourselves not only of the danger of feeding unwholesome thoughts in this moment, but also of the danger of having one of those thoughts be the last thought of our lives. The Buddha illustrated this practice with a vivid metaphor:
Just as someone, young, youthful, and fond of ornaments would be horrified, humiliated, and disgusted if the carcass of a snake or a dog or a human being were hung around their neck, so too... when a student examines the danger in those thoughts... their mind becomes steadied internally, quieted, brought to singleness, and concentrated.
At first it may sound as though this is a matter of vanity, as if this young person who likes jewelry only cares about how they look. But even if that's the case, I think the Buddha is astutely catering to that part of us that does care how we look, that wants so badly to fit in. If I gave a talk and realized afterward that I'd been sitting in front of my screen with a big peppercorn stuck in my teeth, I'd be horrified. Not because I'd done anything bad, but because I'd been inattentive enough not to make sure I was presentable before coming before you. It's that feeling of embarrassment the Buddha is trying to evoke. If you keep going with this thought, you'll be similarly embarrassed. This is not the type of person you want to be.
But we can also take the metaphor further. Damn right I'd be horrified if I had a corpse hanging around my neck, vanity or not. This unwholesome thought is like a corpse. It's like a carcass I'm dragging around, this dead thing that offers me nothing but anxiety and trouble. And these thoughts can run the whole gamut, from the irritating thought that's like a piece of hair in your collar—Was that the right thing to say, or did I sound stupid?—to the self-conscious thought that's like a toilet-paper tail stuck to your pants—I hope someone noticed how generous I was at that last fundraiser—to the excruciating thought that's like glass in your eye—No one cares about me. I'm not good enough.
Each has a different danger level, but they're all dangerous in their own way. Not wanting to come in harm's way, we become our own best mothers. We take our own hand and whisper in our own ear: "Don't drink the poison. It is poison, though it may look like candy to you. It's poison, and it will hurt you, so just walk away." As you can see, this tool requires a little more discernment than the first one and a little more effort. With "switch," you have your array of unwholesome thoughts and all the matching antidotes, so you don't have to think too much about what to do. You see anger and offer loving-kindness. You see greed or possessiveness and turn toward generosity.
You have to engage the thought, engage your mind, and convince it to go in another direction.
With the second sign, however, you do have to think. You have to engage the thought, engage your mind, and convince it to go in another direction. Sometimes you let go of a thought and make space for the unconditioned. Sometimes you look at the conditioned first so that you can work with it and then be free.
Having to be more involved with the thought, more focused and deliberate, is actually a good thing, because this is yet another way you're learning to be wholehearted. You're learning not to dismiss any thing, any thought, any detail as unimportant, because in the details is the whole of our lives.
Explore further
01 : SWITCH (Talk 1): Working with Difficult Thoughts with Zuisei Goddard
02 : Instructions on Not Giving Up (aka SWITCH) with Zuisei Goddard
03 : When No Thing Works | Buddhist Practice During Crisis with Zuisei Goddard
Working with Difficult Thoughts | Warning! Danger!, a dharma talk by Zen Buddhist teacher Zuisei Goddard. Audio podcast and transcript available.