The Six Paramitas

 

To be whole before God means to stand before Him with all of our faults as well as all of our virtues, and to hear the message of our acceptability.  To be whole means to rise beyond the need to pretend that we are perfect, to rise above the fear that we will be rejected for not being perfect.  And it means having the integrity not to let the inevitable moments of weakness and selfishness become permanent parts of our character.  Know what is good and what is evil, and when you do wrong, realize that that was not the essential you.  It was because the challenge of being human is so great that no one gets it right every time.  God asks no more of us than that. –Rabbi Harold S. Kushner, How Good Do We Have to Be?

 

For the last seven months, I’ve focused on the six paramitas of Buddhism—generosity, discipline, patience, effort, meditation and wisdom—as not just a Buddhist practice, but as a way for you to deepen your spiritual life, no matter what tradition (if any) you practice within.  You have the opportunity to embrace these practices as “awareness practices,” as a way to be more present and appreciate every day of your life.  As you become more and more aware of your life as it manifests you may notice that you often contract as a way to protect yourself from every day demands and expectations, rushing from one task to another, barely breathing in your efforts to get things done.  When you become aware of these contracted states, you can slow down and breathe and allow a spacious moment to emerge and bring you present.  When you hold the paramitas in your heart as one way to live your life, you have the freedom to notice how you are functioning and can choose to allow the paramitas to manifest fully.

 

Let me share how the paramitas manifest in my every day life.  This morning I rose early to meditate (meditation).  I already meditate in the evenings, and I’ve decided that one way to deepen my practice is to meditate in the mornings, too.  This is a difficult decision for me, because I have all kinds of excuses for not doing morning meditation:  it means getting up earlier, I’m hungry when I wake up, I tend to get sleepy if I meditate before breakfast…the excuses go on and on.  But intuitively I know that putting my rear end on the cushion in the morning is going to be a way to ground myself for the day.  So I’m doing it (discipline).  Then of course I’m debating how much time should I spend—should I set my little clock that gongs or decide to let my body decide how long to sit?  No, no, I want to set the gong so I don’t wonder about the time.  I decide that 30 minutes feels like the right amount of time (effort).  As I meditate, I drift between sleepiness and fantasies and for a moment berate myself for my lack of attentiveness, but remember that resistance to a new pattern, and lack of sleep the night before might be affecting my state (patience).  I remind myself that beginning something new can often be a challenge, and I smile slightly as I watch the many ways that resistance can manifest itself, and I allow what is stirring to arise, and bring my focus back to the present moment, without further judgment or irritation (generosity).  When my little bell gongs, I realize that in these moments of practicing the paramita of medtation, I have had the opportunity to practice the other paramitas; I realize that when I practice the paramitas wholeheartedly, they naturally manifest and fill me with gratitude for being alive.  These thirty minutes have reminded me of why I practice (wisdom): to simply appreciate this life with which I’ve been blessed.

 

Did I recognize these paramitas and list them as they were completed, as I was meditating this morning?  Nope.  I was too busy trying to stay awake!  I wasn’t ticking off each paramita as I practiced it, but I held these paramitas, these perfections, in my heart, knowing that in one sense, my life is already whole and complete, whether I’m sleepy or awake on the cushion, whether I consciously practice the paramitas or not.  That in one sense, there’s nothing to do or accomplish.

 

From another perspective, being “awake” to my life allows me to be thankful for my life, to realize its unfolding, its difficulties and its joys.  By practicing with the paramitas I have guideposts that I can follow for living life fully.  When I embrace and practice with those guideposts, not as ways to judge myself but as reminders of how I can appreciate life, suffer less, and relieve the suffering of others, I am reminded that my life is rich and abundant, just as it is.