Some years ago, a friend named Jeff was telling me about the time he was assigned the task of driving a Tibetan Buddhist teacher to a dharma center to give a talk. My friend made sure to leave in plenty of time–he did not want to make the teacher late. However about 15 minutes from their destination, he noticed that traffic was unusually heavy. He started to get a little anxious and peered over at the teacher. He seemed unperturbed. A few minutes later, they hit an enormous traffic jam and came to a near standstill. Now my friend was really anxious. He thought of all the students waiting for the talk to begin and the possible discomfort the teacher might feel at being late. He tried to peer around the traffic ahead to see the source of the snarl, tuned to the AM radio station for traffic updates, and generally wished that his car could fly. He glanced at the teacher again. Again, utterly unperturbed. “Jeff,” he said, “what do you expect? This is samsara. Nothing is going to work out.”

Far from being a bummer, the way the teacher said it suddenly cleared the air of anxiety. Jeff relaxed. And so did I, hearing the story. Maybe you could, too.

It’s true. This is samsara. Nothing is ever going to work out. Everything is impermanent, including traffic jams and feelings of anxiety. And also the times of smooth sailing and feelings of contentment–they too will go. Everything you love will dissolve, along with everything you hate. So if no battle can be won, no love secured, no safety created, no control exacted, what to do? Seen through one lens, this could be considered extremely bad news. You will never find security. But, just like hearing that the game you’re playing is not a contest after all, you can relax and enjoy the feeling of playing.

So how does this relate to the GDE? I realize that part of my motivation for wanting discipline is that I want things to work out. I think I can make that happen. In some very real ways, I can. I can give my all to my writing. I can think deeply and act respectfully in my relationships. I can push my boundaries, every day. However, it’s not going to work out. When I can remember that, I stand the chance of seeing that, as is also taught, samsara is inseparable from nirvana. It is very good to be alive, no matter what.

Now back to the drawing board.

PS. In the meantime, with the intention to be less rigid, I’m accomplishing more stuff…

Today I was driving down the road to get some papers notarized. My carefully planned schedule was officially off the rails because this thing had suddenly come up. The air was cool and cloudy. It was a two-lane street, but a busy one, with only a shoulder to walk on, no proper sidewalk. Two people were making their way along the road. One was a very bent old woman in a pink sweatshirt, walking quite slowly. The old man behind her was in a wheelchair and could not keep up, so they walked one in front of the other on the uneven surface, cars whizzing by, old lady shaky on her feet, wheelchair bumping along. Or maybe they just felt safer this way; two abreast would have put one of them uncomfortably close to the traffic.

Where were they going? Who were they to each other? When they got where they were going, would there be anyone to love them? Their fragility was unbearable and I wanted to stop the whole world, the cars rushing by, the people with their errands, the cold, damp air, and say: Please stop. Stop for these two people and cradle them somehow. This is how tender and breakable we all are, all of us. And if I can’t stick to my schedule, so fucking what. How could that possibly matter? Human beings are living and dying. Vulnerability is everywhere and what am I doing to be add to the store of kindness and care in this world? In the end the only thing that will matter is how loving I have been on any given day. I realized that today, instead of taking the time to call my mother and father, connect with my husband before his workday takes off, reach out to my sister, check in with friends, I thought only of what I needed to do for myself. These people love me and I love them, still I slot them in somewhere toward the bottom of my to do list (I’m so ashamed of this).

Trying to exact discipline certainly has its noble qualities, but in the end the spirit under which I have undertaken the Great Experiment is one of fear and self absorption. It has been an exercise in poverty thinking and an effort to control the uncontrollable, to push aside everything but my own reality. It makes me feel better and worse to realize this. I still want to give all I have to give to this world, but it’s going to have to be through a dialogue with reality and those I love, not a separation.

Wherein the Great Discipline Experiment goes utterly off the rails.

Why? I cannot say for sure.

I traveled to Tulsa this weekend to participate in the lovely Hawk Publishing Writers’ Workshop. I was so happy to be invited. I got to teach meditation and talk about writing. What more could I want? I was also going to get to stay in a hotel, normally a wonderfully productive setup for me. But although I loved the workshop, loved the participants, loved Bill, the organizer, and his wife, Marcia, and got to go shopping at the legendary Miss Jackson’s, the trip wreaked havoc on me. I am trying to learn from this. Here’s what I know:

No matter how short the slot or familiar the subject matter, I get nervous before presenting anything publicly. I’ve given enough talks to know my style of preparation and unfortunately, it’s a style that is nervous-making. The more I prepare in advance, the worse I do. This is not a happy situation. My best strategy is to think very deeply about what I’m about to do, not what I’m about to say. That’s it. Beyond that, I can’t plan what to say. I can’t plan how to begin. I can only summarize (to myself) what I hope to have communicated by the time my talk is over. So I think over my key points—what they mean, not how to express them—clip on the mic, and start talking. Further, I actually have to be in the room I’m going to speak in to prepare for the talk, so I just go sit there for awhile and it comes to me. It’s a completely kinesthetic, non-conceptual experience. I get into a zone and if anyone starts chit-chatting with me, the zone goes away. It’s a strange–and inconvenient–kind of concentration.

I’ve learned the hard way that if I prepare even one iota more than this, I freeze. Or worse, give my talk with no life, charm, or soul—in which case, even if I was communicating the cure for cancer, no one would even hear me. Authenticity and communication in-the-moment are what enable people to actually hear what you’re saying, to take it into themselves and make it their own. Everything else is just ponderous. So when I teach, I prepare the best I can, forget all my preparation, and just show up. Like I said, nervous-making.

When I’m nervous, I discovered, I bargain away my discipline. I try to find little treats to make myself feel better—any guilty pleasure will do. I completely let myself off the hook because I guess I feel sorry for myself.  Discipline goes away and this is reason #1.

Reason #2, oddly, is food. I was unable to secure chow that suited my palate and digestion. I am a fairly healthy eater and the room service in Tulsa was one from column fried and two from column cheesy. I didn’t have a car and nothing was in walking distance. So I ate crap. This made me feel awful, terrible, and also more sorry for myself. Ridiculous. Eating poorly leads to more eating poorly, leads to lethargy and mental stupidity. Apparently.

Reason #3 is simply the fact of talking to people in social settings. Even though I love to teach, I do not love to chat. It’s not that I find it boring or wasteful or anything, it just makes me tired. This is the #1 thing that gives me a headache: talking to strangers. Deep down, I am actually incredibly, ridonkulously, profoundly shy. I would much rather observe others talking than participate in conversation. More fatigue, less discipline.

Reason #4 is that once my discipline begins to deteriorate, some evil voice compels me to wreck whatever remains. In this case, flying home via Dallas on the heinous American Airlines, that meant stupid treats like more bad food and silly magazines. All my natural elegance and dignity were gone. But at least I wasn’t wearing a tracksuit. (If you ever see me wearing one, shoot me.)

Oh yes, and I had a migraine for two days. This made me even softer on myself. Not to mention all hopped up on Imitrex.

So today, I had a choice: immediately get back on the horse or…what? Not. I chose not. I chose instead to only do what I really, really felt like doing, the moment I felt like doing it. My husband is out of town, so this was actually possible because I’m home alone. I slept very late. I cooked healthy food for myself. I folded laundry and cleaned stuff up, which makes me happy. I traded in my old camera for a new one. I rode around with the top down. Watched a Barbara Stanwyck move. I feel much better.

As I was driving around today, I noticed something. The whole world was happening around me and I got to see it. I wasn’t looking at my schedule, I was looking up into the sky.

It has been a good day. Tomorrow, back on the horse.

Best. Day. Yet.

It’s 12:30A and I actually touched, filed, and/or tossed every single thing on my desk. Check out my empty inbox. It took all day and I feel so cheerful and refreshed right now. Good night.

A friend got all inspired about the Great Project (but she renamed it “The Great Intention Experiment), I guess because “discipline” sounded to harsh or something. Which is fine. Here is her tale.

Sooo, after we talked, I was so excited about what I call “the intention experiment”. It’s really bugging me how days pass.  When I got home I started to write out a schedule for the day. When I would actually get things done.  Like the Nanny does for mothers on the Super Nanny show. First morning of “the experiment” my friend Jim taps on the back door at 7:45, yes 7:45, he was returning a drill I had been looking for and lent them. We started to chat and then it was 8:30 and I missed my meditation and journaling time  forgot to drink water, say affirmations and take vitamins and barely made it out the door to catch a yoga class. I did make it to yoga though! The rest of the day was kind of like that and I didn’t get things done that I wanted???

xo
M

Well, it’s going about the same for me. Things happen, like my car needs service or I lost my keys or a conference call gets rescheduled…what then? How not to let the whole thing got to pot? This must remain a rhetorical question for now…

So, my analysis of week one is something like this:
Meditation: Good
Journaling: Pretty Good
Yoga: Good
Study: Not Good
Writing: Not Good
Diet: Great

The main thing I’ve learned is that if I don’t contemplate the day hour by hour first thing in the AM, the discipline project goes down the tubes. It has to be scheduled and planned for. When s*#t happens, I need to rearrange my schedule, but not let it fall apart. Just move time slots around.

OK, Week Two. Bring it on.

How’s it going for you?

Yesterday–OK. Today–have got it into my head that I have to forgo all responsibilities until I completely clean up and organize my office. This happens occasionally. Hours are spent in finding the perfect inbox, organizer, software, whatever. Sometimes it really helps, even if only for a few days. And it’s not like my office doesn’t need help. Gaze upon this:

So I’m going to spend the day really getting organized, from top to bottom. For real. (And also journal, meditate, and eat healthy. And get the title for my new car transfered to my name. And get a hair cut. Yikes. This is hard.)

My inspiration.

(A killer series from UK paper The Guardian on writer’s rooms.)

Will post “after” pic.

click on image to read entire article.

Wherein everything fell apart, came back together, and looked somewhat different.

OK. Yesterday was pretty OK. I did everything on my “I must do these things every day ” list. Except one thing: journaling. I felt awful about that. It was just day 2!! However. Yesterday was also the deadline for completing all the revisions on the copy edited version of the MS for my new book, The Wisdom of a Broken Heart. Which is a big deal. The deadline is the deadline. It had to come first and there was nothing in second place.

BTW, the steps for getting a book into production are: 1. Write the book (without much input from editor; this is normal, not a diss) 2. Send the book (which is considered the rough draft) to the editor. 3. Get back her comments, which could be extensive or not. 4. Revise and return, which could be a nightmare. Or not. In this case, not. 5. Editor passes it along to a copy editor, who edits line by line for grammar, typos, consistency, etc. They usually have a bunch of questions along the lines of “did you mean to say ‘nerve wracking’ which means destroy or ‘nerve racking’ which means torture?” 6. Get copy edited manuscript back, check over all copy editor corrections, clarifications, and questions. This is the last chance to do any substantial rewrites. 7. Send back to publisher. 8. Author receives a galley, or a copy of the book as it will be designed and laid out in its final form. 9. Last, last, LAST chance to make any slight, teeny changes (i.e. change a word here or there). 10. Book is published.

Yesterday was my deadline for step 6. The very last chance to make any significant changes. Getting through this stage is like really, really reaching the point of completion. It’s like the house is built to specifications but before you move in , you could change the drawer pulls on the kitchen cabinets or something. But no more moving walls around or anything like that. So, as of yesterday, the book is DONE. The reason I go into all this detail on that topic is because the moment I dropped it in Fedex, two things happened:

1. I felt a tremendous rush of energy and relief and also exhaustion. (I hadn’t anticipated this.)
2. I wanted some snacks and treats. (I could have predicted this.)

Today began with a lot of bargaining with myself. “Hey! You just finished writing a book! Take a load off! Hang out, eat cupcakes, give yourself a break. You don’t have to stick with your schedule today. You deserve a rest!” But another part of me was going, “What about the Great Discipline Experiment? What about all those vows you made lo these many THREE DAYS ago?”Also, the check engine light in my (old) car came on and since I’m trying to sell it and had the chance to bring it in for service this morning, I took it, throwing off my whole schedule. To top it off, Duncan and I had a mini-fight last night before we went to sleep so I didn’t get a great rest.

Blah, blah, is this incredibly boring and silly? I keep thinking it is. I also kept thinking, if I was a stand-up person, a commited person, a person fated for greatness, I would so not let this stuff get in the way. However, when I checked inside, I had no energy. None. So this morning, I went off the rails, meaning I didn’t stick to my schedule. Also, I was exhausted so I drank a cup of coffee.

So, today has been The Great Shame and Disappointment Experiment. At least for a few hours. Then a few things happened:

1. I jiggered my schedule to put the things I missed back on, but at different times. I managed to journal. I remembered that I’m giving a talk tonight at the Shambhala Center and will get to practice meditation there before the talk. So even though it’s not my regular practice, it is definitely meditation practice. I am doing some writing. (This is it.) I did do some study–I prepared for my talk by reading Sakyong Mipham’s Ruling Your World, Chapter 14, “The Confidence of Delight in Helping Others.” (The talk is based on this chapter.) So: Meditation, check. Journaling: check. Writing: check. Study: check. (Attempting to benefit sentient beings: check.) Perfect dietary discipline: X. OK,  so that’s not too terrible.

2. I remembered that I wrote a book called How Not to Be Afraid of Your Own Life and it has a chapter on discipline for goodness sake. In it, I said that discipline is not about being all willful and strict–it is simply the ability to come back. Period. I forgot that I knew this. Then I remembered, and did it.

3. I remembered what I’d been taught about taking the 5 precepts, which are what you commit to when you formally become a Buddhist (not stealing, killing, lying, being sexually inappropriate, drinking/drugging.) But you don’t just take the precepts once, you can take them everyday. It’s like there’s a 24-hour clock on the precepts and when you take them, the commitment is for that time period. If you think you’re going to reneg on one of them (like you know you’re going to have sex with someone you shouldn’t or you’re going to have a cocktail with dinner), you can sort of return that precept. (Of course you never want to return it when it comes to taking life…but even that is not so clear cut. What if your house is infested with termites and you must have them exterminated or else the house will come crashing down? You would have to return that precept for the day.) So it’s enormously freeing to think that whatever you swear you want to do, you only have to swear to do it for a 24-hour period, and you can return what you’ve sworn to if you need to. So today I “gave back” my vow to abstain from certain foods that I know are bad for me. But tomorrow I’ll reinstate it.

So Day 3 has been a bit of a ride, but I felt better once I let go of shaming myself, being super strict, and, most important, figured out how I was still going to honor as many of the commitments I could in some way I had not imagined when the day began. I.E., I didn’t give up, even though I almost did.

Onward.

It’s 6A and I’m heading to yoga class because I SAID I WOULD DO THIS.

Day 1 went well. Got a lot done and felt very cheerful. Thankful for support and encouragement from you all! Very, very helpful. A little scared of Day 2. Don’t want to blow it. One day at a time.

I hate it. I already completely  hate it.

However. I’m doing it. I’m making a very concerted effort to do all the things I want/know I should do and avoid all the things I don’t want/know I shouldn’t do. For example:

Things I Want to Do Every Day (in addition to regular stuff like answering emails, keeping up with administrative work, doing laundry, petting the cats, etc)
Journal.
Write every day at the same time.
Practice meditation (daily).
Study some aspect of the dharma (daily).
Exercise (3x per week).
Be incredibly organized; write everything down.
Drink water (at least 1 liter per day).
Take vitamins (it’s ridiculous how much I hate doing this).

Things I Want to NOT Do Every Day
Caffeine
Sugar
Wheat
Be lazy.
Watch TV excessively.
Play word games on my iPhone. For several hours at a pop. (Fie on Wordle…)
Have headaches/medicate for headaches.
Spend too much $$.

OK. There it is. That doesn’t sound crazy, right? Still, I struggle every single day with these things, making bargains with myself, slacking off, ramping up, beating myself up, feeling smug, on and on in an endless, ridiculous cycle. Hey!! Times a-wasting! I’m not getting any younger. If I want to do all the things I long to, order must be instituted. I command it.

Some things I’ve noticed already, even though it’s only 11A on Day One
IT SUCKS!! Also, it’s hard. I have absolutely no idea why.

Yet it also makes me very, very cheerful every time I complete a task.

I keep wanting to give myself treats like snacks or TV every time I finish a task. What’s up with that?!

I’m tempted to ridicule myself for trying this. Little irritating voices keep saying things like “who do you think you are” and “your life isn’t important enough to warrant this kind of seriousness.” What a bunch of BS. Effective, but BS nonetheless.

It’s all about precision: not just saying I want to do x and y and z, but actually scheduling a time to do x and y and z on my calendar. AND THEN DOING X AND Y AND Z at the appointed time. It takes forethought. This is the most significant pre-requisite for being organized.

OK, I’m going to be late for my next appointment with myself if I don’t stop writing, right now. Have already journaled, meditated, studied, and done some writing. Next: proofing MS for upcoming book which is due back at the publisher on Wednesday. So I have today and tomorrow, until the last fedex pickup…

If you want to help me, you can. You can shout encouragement and/or try to take your life seriously and report back.