In my Eastern Religions class, we recently had the unique experience of spending time with a Buddhist priest. I don’t know exactly what I was expecting, but I was surprised.
The reverend was dressed in traditional garb, but didn’t give off the impression of someone who was floating 24/7 on a cloud of Zen. He was refreshingly human, with many stories of everyday human experience and a slightly foul mouth. It was a wonderful afternoon.
The whole class was filled with questions—mine was about the Buddhist belief in non-attachments and how heavy emotion fits into that. How does one let go of the very natural human emotions of grief, loss, or anger? How can one possibly remain stoic when these very real feelings are raw and alive and part of the human experience?
The reverend told me that it actually is not necessary to let go of these emotions. Instead, one has to honour them as being part of life, to acknowledge them when they’re happening to you, and that rather than letting them hook you in (he used a fishing metaphor of a hook caught in the cheek), one has to learn not be hooked—to feel freely without allowing the feelings to take over to the point of not being able to function.
I have sat with these answers for the last few days. I can very easily have my emotional boat rocked. Being able to be calm when the waters are not seems a completely foreign concept to me. I was once told by a partner that “You shouldn’t freak out over things you have no control over.” That was not helpful to me, as feeling a lack of control is what makes me freak out in the first place.
However, the way it was explained last week—to honour these feelings before they consume me—seems to make a bit of sense. I’m going to seriously try to apply this in my life the next time I feel overwrought with stress (probably tomorrow), and see if I can gain a bit of Zen.