Once I found myself in a monastery filled with a burning motivation to practice meditation and be silent. Contrary to my expectation, the monastery was no oasis of peace and serenity but a construction site. The sounds of saws and hammers, scaffolding being erected, and trucks arriving with building materials permeated every corner. Radios played, dogs barked: clearly the value I placed on silence was not shared by others. In despair and frustration I found myself demanding of the abbot how I was supposed to meditate in the midst of this chaos. His answer was, “How can you not?”
We gladly turn our attention to those most significant of questions, “What is truly important to us in our lives? What do we truly value in this moment?” Holding these questions clearly, we discover that we want to be happy, to be free from struggle and separation. They are questions that return us to this moment, to ask ourselves, “Where is peace, where is freedom, where is simplicity in this moment?” Patient not just outwardly with the circumstances of our lives, but with the friends and enemies within ourselves, we learn the happiness and simplicity of being with what is.
Compassion is another essential companion on the journey to simplicity. Simplicity is not only a gift of compassion for ourselves, but also for the world. Deprivation, poverty, and hardship will not be eased by ever more strategies, councils, or prescriptions. As Gandhi once said, “There is enough in the world for everyone’s needs, but not enough for everyone’s greed.” Each moment we lay down the burden of endless need, we become a conscious participant in easing the sorrow of the world. When we are no longer guided by the inexhaustible thirst of wanting, our relationship to life is guided by integrity. Compassion for ourselves is found in letting go of the stress of separation from the possibilities of richness, harmony, and freedom that lie within. Thomas Merton once said:
Of what avail is it if we can travel to the moon,
If we cannot cross the abyss that separates us from ourselves, This is the most important of all journeys And without it all of the rest are useless.
In Japan there is a monastic tradition whose practice is not only composed of traditional meditation but also the service of cleaning the local villages and public conveniences. Each morning the monks and nuns board their buses with buckets and mops to begin another day of cleaning toilets, streets, and waiting rooms. It is held as a sacred task, an act of thanksgiving, of caring for the world. When questioned on the spiritual value they found in such work, one of the nuns answered, “We are learning to live a simple life with great affluence.”
Simplicity can be found nowhere else but the life we are in and the path we walk within it. It lives in our hearts and minds, awaiting our commitment and wholehearted attention. We do not create simplicity but rediscover its availability and possibility. We begin by being present, turning our attention to our lives and ourselves, and availing ourselves of the invitation offered in each moment to discover peace and freedom. It may be one of the most challenging journeys we make; we only travel it one step at a time. Responding to one of his ardent admirers, standing beneath the roof of the Sistine Chapel, Michaelangelo reportedly said, “If you only knew how much effort it took to get here, you wouldn’t be so amazed.”
GUIDED MEDITATION
Take a few moments in your day to be still. Relax your body, close your eyes, and listen inwardly. Bring a calm, gentle awareness to whatever appears in your mind. Be aware of what your thoughts revolve around and dwell upon most frequently. It might be the memory of an event or conversation that has been disturbing. It might be rehearsals or plans for the future. You might be aware of your mind obsessing about or judging yourself or another. You might be aware of a tension in your mind or body; a restless energy that is wanting something more than the simplicity of this moment.
The sticky, repetitive places our thoughts return to are messengers asking for our attention. What is being asked of us to release us from the complexity or confusion of this moment? Where does peace and calmness lie? Is there someone we need to forgive. Is there something we are being asked to let go of? Can we nurture a greater generosity of heart or compassion for ourselves or another? Ask yourself,
“Where does simplicity lie in this moment?”
Hold this question with a patient receptivity but without demanding an answer. Listen to the responses that arise within you. The release from complexity, the peace and calmness we seek for, will be found within those responses.
When my house burned down I gainedan unobstructed view of the moonlit sky ZEN
RENUNCIATION is the unwavering companion of simplicity. A life dedicated to depth and compassion invites us to let go of the layers of relentless need and thirst to accumulate that can govern our lives, and to understand the insecurities and anxieties that separate us from ourselves and others. Renunciation is the greatest of all kindnesses—it teaches us not to lean upon anything that can crumble; it teaches us about genuine richness and freedom.
Some years ago I went into a Thai monastery for a period of retreat. The first morning I took my seat in the meditation hall and waited for the teacher to arrive with instructions on how to meditate. I waited and waited. On the third day I summoned up the courage to ask the abbot, “What should I be doing when I sit on a cushion?” expecting to receive a complex formula of meditation instructions. He looked at me with a puzzled expression on his face before answering, “Sit down and let go.”
Can the heart of a meditative path be so simple—to sit down and let go? The lessons of simplicity teach us to love deeply and to let go; to savor each sound, taste, sight, and smell and to let go; to cherish each moment as a precious gift and to let go; to appreciate with profound sensitivity each connection with others, every thought and feeling, every birth and death, and to be a calm presence and conscious participant in their natural unfolding and passing. The path of simplicity is learning to live in harmony with the rhythms of life and each moment. It is a path of joy and freedom.
Hearing the word “renunciation” we may find our hearts quivering with fear and resistance. Images of ourselves as homeless and bereft, deprived of comfort and drowning in loneliness, pass through our minds. Renunciation may be equated with vulnerability and loss, a life of passivity and meaninglessness. We are faced with one of our deepest anxieties, of not knowing how we would define ourselves or find meaning without our array of possessions, opinions, beliefs, roles, and achievements. Culturally, we are encouraged to believe that possession, attainment, and achievement are the pathways to happiness. In the quest for simplicity we are invited to entertain another paradigm: that it is this very craving, holding, and possessiveness which brings complexity, confusion, and sorrow, and that renunciation