Currently I’m studying Heart Treasure of the Enlightened Ones with a Dharma friend, the Venerable Tashi Nyima.

This is my contemplation on the third line of verse 17 of the root text of Heart Treasure of the Enlightened Ones. 

I thought it was interesting to see how much of a HUGE part speech plays in our life. I also think that in this case “hide” can be read as “guard”, as in having vigilance. That’s the point of view in this contemplation.

“Hide your body by staying alone in a mountain wilderness;

Hide your speech by cutting off contact and saying very little;

Hide your mind by being continuously aware of your own faults alone.

This is what it means to be a hidden yogi.”

 

 

Explain to someone else (making it my own)

We’re always talking. There’s a twenty-four hour Weather Channel, a twenty-four hour CNN channel, a twenty-four hour cooking channel. If you’re willing to, you can spend twenty-four hours a day watching sports on ESPN. And that’s just television. There are twenty-four hour radio stations. We are inundated by seas of words constantly, whether it’s television, radio, or a text message on our cell phone that of course, can’t wait.

Where does all this talk come from? Is it anything more than pointless chatter? Sadly, probably about ninety-eight percent of what we say is utterly pointless and doesn’t need to be said.

If we think about how the mind works, all talk originates in our mind. Our own words begin with our thoughts. The words of others can only be understood when we take them into our mind, pass them through the filters of our prejudices, our likes and dislikes, our life experience, our mood, our tendencies, then finally arrive at ‘understanding’. This happens so lightning-fast, that most times we’re not aware of it.

Unfortunately for us, these filters work both ways. Every word we say is an impromptu autobiography. We continually reveal ourselves in our speech. If we know this to be true, then it’s a good idea to constantly, relentlessly examine our mind, and become aware of our faults. This awareness will lead us to a skillful discrimination in what faults we reveal, and what faults we choose not to reveal.

If we ask ourselves before we speak, “what is the state of my mind?”, we will find many times that we want to speak out of envy, jealousy, resentment, anger, fear, or some other afflicted emotion. If we hide (or guard) our mind by being continually aware of our faults, then monkey-mind has less of a chance to gibber pointlessly.

***

Apply to a past situation (how would it have been different?)

There have been so many times when my speech has led to trouble in my life; it’s hard to point to just one situation.

I remember a fight I had with my mother when I was in my mid-twenties. I said something that made her cry and her tears infuriated me. Seeing her tears, I said something very like, “I don’t care if I make you cry. You’ve made me cry enough.” Then I stormed out the door to work.

Looking back at that unskillful speech, I can notice that I was so overwrought with emotion that it would have been better to super glue my tongue to the roof of my mouth than to utter a single word. I can notice that the state of my mind was frustration and anger. I can notice that my words were purposely chosen to inflict pain.

Having noticed this, I might have taken at least a half-step back, and before I spoke, I might have become aware of the faults of my mind in those moments. I could have breathed with the hot-prickly sensation of anger. Doing this would have given me a brief moment of clarity. In that moment I could have asked myself what choice I wanted to make. Did I want to continue my habitual actions, which would only lead to more suffering? Or did I want to guard my mind at that moment and move toward weakening my habitual tendency?

Having asked myself these questions, I could have taken another half-step back and breathed. Just one breath. The average rate of human speech is 225 words per minute. In that one breath, that one skillful act, I may have stopped my monkey-mind from pointlessly gibbering at least a hundred unskillful words, words that would have led to nothing but suffering.

***

Apply to an (ongoing) present situation (how does it matter today?)

Words are how I make a living. Throughout my work day, I resolve issues by answering questions either on the phone or via email. I process on average, about fifty email interactions a day. And every single email is a conversation in my mind. With over two hundred emails a week, sometimes over a thousand emails a month, my job could easily become monkey-mind’s playground. In fact, it has been exactly that in the past.

At times I catch monkey-mind up to its old tricks. Thoughts zing through my mind:

What a stupid question.

Seriously, are you telling me you have enough time in your day to sit down and type such a dumb question?

Good god lady, I told you that last week!

You need a friend. I’m not your pen pal.

Please. Go be stupid on your own time.

What I’ve noticed as I study the Dharma and get to know my mind, is that the emails don’t substantially change. It’s the same questions over and over, the same requests. What changes is my state of mind. These days when a thought like this comes up, I know I need to pause. I know I need to examine the state of my mind. And sure enough I’ll find I’m irritated because my back hurts, I have a headache, the test bread I baked over the weekend burned to charcoal on the bottom…whatever. The point is if I answer an email in that state of mind, I will show my faults. And since my faults of aggression and irritation and frustration are not unique to me, my faults will resonate with the person reading my words, and my email will in turn evoke their anger, their aggression, their frustration.

Instead, I choose to take a step back. I read most emails for tone before I send them out. This continuous awareness does not lead to a perfect work day, but it does lead me to do my job with a measure of compassion and empathy. Am I able to do it on every single email? Of course not. But, with awareness, by continually guarding my mind, continually being aware of my own faults, I keep monkey-mind’s gibbering to a minimum.

***

Apply to a potential situation (bringing it home to play)

The ongoing situation in my life is Salem. A few months ago, it felt like that situation was completely unworkable. I remember thinking something like ‘working with my mind is one thing, but I ain’t a freakin’ saint’. The situation with Salem remains unchanged. What has changed is the state of my mind.

In working with what I felt was an external ‘enemy’, it became clear to me that the ‘enemy’ was an internal representation that had very little to do with the person sitting next to me. After months and months of hard work, I can finally examine the state of my mind before I interact with Salem.

As this happens, I’m finding that I want to progress beyond simply not disliking her. I’m not sure what the next step is. On Thursday, she shared a recipe book with me. That felt really good, as if all my hard work had paid off.

This situation has gone from being very closed in, with both of us locked into adversarial roles to being very open-ended. But now, I feel like I’m at a stalemate. Salem is a drama-junkie. This isn’t maligning her. It’s based on observation. I don’t want to become part of that. It would just lead back to afflicted emotions.

On Tuesday when I go to work, perhaps I can bring her a King Arthur Flour recipe. Baking has become a big part of my life and doing that would be like reaching across a great divide. This is definitely an experiment with state of mind. I have never before gone from adversarial to truce with anyone in my life. In the past, it’s always reached an unbearable crisis where the only option was to walk away. This time I find that the only way to work with this is to be continually aware of my faults, lest monkey-mind spews words that will lead away from the Dharma, away from peace and clarity. With relentless vigilance, monkey-mind doesn’t get to be in charge. I have a choice.