Learning to Fly
Sometimes flying feels like falling for a little while
Greetings everyone,
I’ve returned to Boulder with the family and getting settled back in with friends and the Eon Zen sangha. (We have a two-day retreat starting on Friday night. Registration still open for in-person and online participation.)
A couple things before I get into today’s newsletter:
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The second thing is I would like to say a big Happy Birthday to my mom, Blanche Agostinelli, still going strong at 82. My mom does not call herself a Buddhist, but is one of my best dharma teachers. A few years ago, she said, “You have to make friends with your confusion.” That was one of the best things I had ever heard. Love you, Mom.
The bad news is you’re falling through the air, nothing to hang on to, no parachute. The good news is, there’s no ground.
― Chögyam Trungpa
I never meant to hurt no one, I just had to have my way,
If there's such a thing as too much fun, this must be the price to pay
It's funny how fallin feels like flyin, for a little while.
― “Fallin’ and Flyin’,” Crazy Heart soundtrack
When I first heard the words of the Tibetan Buddhist teacher Chögyam Trungpa, the image he painted struck me as essentially true. That while there were plenty of things in my life that I could rely on — my internal skills and capacities, as well as people and resources and situations — ultimately they were all shifting and impermanent. I could only rely on them for now.
There was nothing that I could “hang on to” to alter the fundamental transience, openness and unknowability of this human life, nothing that would allow me to establish a deep existential stability that would keep me from being hurt, scared, ill or ultimately dead.
This was the “bad news.” The “good news” is that there is no fixed ground that we are going to crash in to at some point.
What a liberating vision. If we can really get on board with this reality, then we can actually see that the “bad news” isn’t even necessarily bad.
I shared Trungpa’s teaching with a recent coaching client, and he came back to our next session with the image above. It’s a great template for working with our condition of openness. Each of the statements surrounding the falling person represents a certain mental posture.
The statements in green are positive and constructive postures:
What can I learn from this situation?
How can I leverage this situation?
How can I make the most of this situation?
The statements in yellow are more neutral and reflective inquiries:
Why am I in this situation?
What can I do about this situation?
How will this situation impact my future?
The statements in red are anxious and protective:
How can I escape from the uncomfortable aspects of this situation?
How can I control this situation?
What if this situation never ends?
We could say that the green postures are driven by inspiration, the yellow postures by curiosity and the red by fear and aversion.
When you find yourself in a transitional place — such as being between jobs or relationships — these thoughts come up inescapably. Since we are genetically programmed to overweigh threats AND we register negative negative signals four times stronger than positive signals …. well, it is no surprise that most of us hang out in the red zone a lot.
When we are aware of what our minds are doing, we can change our posture. It might only take a few moments of self-reflection to see where the emphasis of your emotions lies, and then we can consciously focus on the green zone (and lightly on the yellow zone) to chart a path forward.
That’s learning to fly.
You might remember the great movie Crazy Heart from 2009. Jeff Bridges won an Oscar for his portrayal of a grizzled old country singer coming to terms with his past and his art. (Jeff is a great dharma teacher in his own right, having worked with my lineage elder Bernie Glassman on several projects, including the The Dude and The Zen Master, which draws deep and funny insights from the movie The Big Lebowski.)
The lyric from the Crazy Heart song actually exhibits the reverse of the process I’ve sketched out here: it focuses on the fundamental condition of falling (and failing), and suggests that we experience this as flying only when we are “having fun,” without responsibilities.
The key is in the phrase “I just had to have my way.” If that’s the emotional posture you take in your life, you will be constantly in the red zone.
If you find yourself in transition or a growth phase, I may be able help you with insight, practices and simple reflection to help you leap forward with clarity, purpose and heart. Sign up for a free 30-minute Discovery session to explore how I might help.
Finally, here’s an early bird look at episode 3 of the Game of Zen podcast, titled “The Hot Mess and the Fray” Scott and I chat with Geoff O’Keeffe about getting clear in difficult business situations.