Merciless Teachers

Comfort and satisfaction are great for performative practice. Anger, fear, or stress are calls to self-mastery.

The seeker, empowered by Good Thought and steadfast in Righteousness, is promised a place in the immortal abode, reflecting the ultimate goal of unity with the divine… progressive serenity is born out of self-dominance and is in tune with radiant righteousness.
—The Gathas of Zarathustra

It’s easy to write about psychospiritual centeredness in times of calm. In the troubled times, we must turn more readily to the virtues. But to practice, we must calm the anxious impulses in our breasts, or mute the chatter in our minds. When rage rises to dominate one’s thoughts, or the lure of self-doubt becomes irresistible, returning oneself (or selves) to a state of equipoise can be difficult, exhausting, or hopeless.

Therein lies opportunity.

When the blood pressure rises to pump stress hormones around the body, such indicates one of your atavistic selves is trying to direct the others. Kill the predator. Run from danger. Vanquish the foe. Its vocabularity is limited. Though we fancy ourselves transcendent beings capable of handling stolen fire, we are still governed by the impulses of our primative forebears.

Finding the Space turns on that recognition.

Good Thoughts, Good Words, Good Deeds (Humata, Hukhta, Hvarshta)

To make an important decision with anxiety seizing the heart or anger risen in the temples is to miss an opportunity first to self-regulate. These are the circumstances in which centeredness counts most, after all. When all is well, aligning head, heart, and gut is simple enough to leave one with the impression that he or she is a Zen master. But mastery is finding centeredness on life’s more tumultuous seas.

Anger, fear, and stress represent the despite not the because.

I write this as one currently confronted by all three teachers. And I come up short sometimes—too often, perhaps. I am no Milarepa. And the demon change asks a lot of me, right now, as it may soon ask of you. So I know I must take the time to breathe better, to practice movements that ground me on the earth (outbreath) and raise me towards the heavens (inbreath)—thanks to Daymon P—and create a distance between my inner locus (eye) and those fearsome visitors who threaten and cajole to prevent my alignment. They are my merciless teachers.