If it’s true that what goes on in our mind is the main source of our happiness and suffering, and that we can change our mind – as Lama Zopa Rinpoche says, “We can mold our mind into any shape we like” – then we need to understand the relationship between thoughts and emotions.
What we experience when we say “anger” is what we call an emotion: the body’s involved, it’s intense, the feeling is horrible, the mind, the thoughts are berserk. So we think, “What do you mean change it? How can I do that?” We simply can’t see how we change an emotion.
In our lives we can see that we either vomit everything out or we completely suppress and deny – this is not the Buddhist approach at all. So we need to understand that the emotions are just the tip of the iceberg.
Our trouble is that we only notice what’s happening in our mind when the body feels it, when it’s emotional – and then it seems impossible: “What do you mean, change it? It’s impossible.” Of course at that point it is impossible. People say, “When I’m having a fight with my boyfriend, what can I do?” Well, it’s too late at that point – this is the whole thing.
I always use this silly example, but it’s a really good one. Let’s say you have a beautiful new car and you’ve never heard of mechanics, and you drive it and drive it and you never pay attention to the wheels wobbling, you never pay attention to oil or petrol or anything – well, okay, petrol, you’d run out of gas and so you put gas in, but you never pay attention to anything else – and then one day, at a hundred miles an hour on the freeway, suddenly the wheels are falling off and you say, “Oh, what will I do?” Well, it’s too late, isn’t it?
That’s exactly the same as when we’re in the middle of a fight and we say, “I’m so angry. What can I do?” It’s a bit late, isn’t it?
We all know if you pay attention to the wobbles of the wheels and you go to the mechanic regularly, you would never have a wheel fall off. Well, here, emotionally, it is exactly the same: we can learn to pay attention to what the hell is going on in our mind before it rises to the surface as intense emotion. That’s all the Buddhist approach is saying.
This ability to see our mind goes to very subtle levels, but even ordinary people like us – forget about getting single-pointed concentration, achieving nirvana, all this stuff: forget that! – we can do some kind of disciplined practice every morning, like watching the boring old breath, training our mind to stay on one thing, training ourselves not to be emotionally unconscious of what’s happening in our head until it vomits out the mouth, training ourselves every day, and then we can bring that skill to bear off our cushion when we go down to the kitchen, and whereas once we would have blurted out our anger to the hubby because there he is slurping his coffee again, but now – start with the small things! – now we catch our thoughts before they vomit out of the mouth.
Okay, on the cushion you’re paying attention to your breath – you’re developing the skill to step back and focus the mind: it’s training, it’s a practical skill – but now, because now you’re paying attention to your mind, you’re able to notice the angry thoughts before they get to the mouth.
Because all the emotions – and this is surprising to us – are rooted in, underpinned by, are coming from conceptual thoughts deep in our mind: “How dare this! How dare he do this! She this! You should not do that! I want this!” – all the emotional thoughts of attachment and aversion, you know: so subtle, underneath, underneath. When we begin to pay attention, that’s when we can begin to change.
You can’t do much when the wheels are falling off at a hundred miles an hour – it’s just too late – but that’s the only time we notice what’s happening in our lives. And then of course we sneak off guiltily to a therapist – to the mechanic – a bit late.
The point is to change our mind, but we’ve got to have the wish to do this, and this takes a lot of humility – instead of thinking, “What do you mean I should change? It’s my husband who should change!” Then it’s a disaster: you can’t do a thing if you think that.
In other words, it takes a lot of courage to even recognize that our mind plays a role in our lives: we’re totally convinced that the problems are coming from the outside. I mean, one time Lama Zopa said – and I was so shocked, you almost can’t believe it, but you listen, it’s true: “The vast majority of all humans on the planet” – all the dumb ones, all the intelligent ones, all the intellectual ones, all the artistic ones, you think about it, all the good ones, all the bad ones, think about it – “have absolutely no idea that what goes on in their mind plays any role at all in their lives.” Meaning: we are all completely focused on the outside world – we are completely focused on the outside world: that’s where happiness is and that’s where suffering is, so all our attention goes there.
He’s right – because we don’t notice what’s in the mind until it comes to the surface and vomits out or until we get so depressed we can’t get out of bed one morning. That’s the problem.
Don’t hear this like it’s religion, please: this is psychological, it’s a practical way to live life. Buddha didn’t invent this approach – he’s just good at it, that’s all: it’s his expertise.
But the first step is having the will to do it, and, as I said, that takes a lot of humility, not the victim mind: “What do you mean I should change!” Having the will to do it is the big first step. Once you do that, you’re on the way, you’ll be fine.
It’s such common sense, isn’t it? But it’s the hardest job we’ll ever do because we’re not used to it. So don’t wait until the wheels fall off – deal with the hubby’s coffee, deal with stubbing your toe, deal with the baby events. And then practice, practice, practice.