The following reflection originally appeared in the newsletter I sent out on March 8th, 2025.
Feel free to read just the bold words and skip the rest.
Introduction
I just returned from a monthlong retreat at the Spirit Rock Meditation Center in California.
On the opening night, we engaged in a community ritual where we all resolved to release judging, comparing, and fixing for the month.
A few days later, one of the teachers shared an amusing story about their time practicing in Myanmar in over 100° weather. The ceiling of the room they were meditating in was filled with shiny new fans. However, none of them were turned on!
In a group practice interview with the abbot, one of the meditators asked, “can we turn the fans on?” The abbot replied, “You westerners! You want to find your happiness by plugging into the power grid, rather than through the power of your mind!”
Really, the pointer was a radical invitation into letting go of judging, comparing, and fixing. To finding peace right here, right now, regardless of how things are.
And when that gets difficult….
A Difficulty Arises
On the retreat, I was sitting about six inches away from another meditator who during a 45-minute meditation would make random noises somewhere between 25 and 300 times, though usually in the 100-150 time range. There was a lot of knuckle cracking, posture adjusting, yawning, heavy sighing, and as they wore clothing similar to the texture of a potato chip bag, lots of rustling the hands along the clothes.
All these noises were nothing new for me. During my own time in Myanmar, I spent many months of intensive meditation next door to construction sites.
At that point, I was doing more of an open awareness style of practice that really invited the full range of experience, both externally and internally. Eventually, I found a genuine peace with all the construction sounds.
However, on this retreat, I was attempting something a little less familiar for me — a concentration practice centered around the breath.
In turn, when the random noises from this meditator were on the lower side, like no more than every 30 seconds, I was able to maintain calm and center. However, I had a breaking point, and when it became more like every 5 to 10 seconds, my mind would be filled with agitation, annoyance, and scattered thoughts.
From this place, it was very difficult to stay with something subtle like the breath!
Teacher Meeting #1
In one of my practice interviews with one of the teachers, I reported that I was experiencing a lot of agitation due to the sound. She quickly corrected me, “it’s not the sound that’s making you agitated; it’s your own mind!”
“Fair enough – but still I’m just struggling to stay with the breath at the level of continuity needed with the sound as it is.”
She replied, “well, you could just move your seat or put in earplugs. However, we want a concentration that isn’t fragile and that can withstand any number of sounds or unpleasant physical sensations. You could think of it like resistance training. Use those sounds as like the added weights that will actually make your concentration stronger.”
I first noted to myself how two other people next to him had already moved seats, but I was resolved to stick it out. I liked that resolution to release judging, comparing, and fixing.
However, the agitation was still coming often enough that it didn’t seem like the concentration practice was really “working.”
I began alternating practices, doing concentration when the mind was more settled, and otherwise, doing my more familiar Vipassana practice, where I opened attention and studied the experience of reactivity and how the mind interacted with its environment, as well as just relaxing more deeply into “the way things are.”
Some Learnings
In studying how my mind was becoming aversive, one mini-insight that came was how the flip side of the aversion was a strong craving for quiet. There was a preference in the mind; an idea that quiet was better than sound.
Sitting with the sounds and the agitated mind, feeling it all, being with it all, noticing the moment it began and ended over and over, I could sense this disenchantment coming in with the reactivity process — that sense of enough already that proceeds letting go.
Simultaneously, I noted that I actually had a lot of compassion towards the meditator. As someone who came to meditation with a very restless, ADHD mind, I remembered some of my initial retreats where I was very fidgety amidst the chaos of my own mind.
In fact, on my second retreat, I was so fidgety that the teacher called me in for a special meeting to make sure I was okay. I had been so lost in my thoughts, I didn’t even realize I was squirming in my seat so much! I don’t know if it’s the same specific thing with this person, but I intimately understand what it is to be restless.
In turn, whenever I saw this meditator or they came to mind, there wasn’t any animosity, but rather a lot of fondness, affinity, and compassion.
Finding our shared humanity is perhaps the most powerful entrance into compassion.
All this being said, while some developments were happening, the aversion was still there to the sharp sound waves lunging at my attention.
Teacher Meeting #2
I began my next practice interview by saying, “with the hundreds of random sounds from that meditator, there’s improvement and some little insights, but it’s not like the annoyance is completely gone.”
She said, “why are you still sitting there?”
I replied, “I guess I’d feel like a failure. Isn’t the idea of meditation to meet whatever arises?”
She said, “No – there is no failing. You spent half the retreat now working with that mundane irritation. You gave it a good go and now it’s time to put it down. Your whole life is going to be filled with practice opportunities towards that sort of disturbance. Retreat offers the special environment to probe more deeply into the mind and work on more refined afflictions. Of course, if you move your seat, and you still get irritated about something else, you’ll know the problem was always just your mind, and that’s some good data.”
After that meeting, I promptly moved my seat and resumed just doing breath concentration all day. The irritation dropped away and I proceeded to have some of the better concentration I’ve ever had and a very fruitful & insightful retreat.
Some Thoughts on Fixing Problems
As I reflected upon what unfolded, the key takeaway I had was that with Buddhist practice, it’s not that we stop “fixing problems,” but that we learn to do so from wisdom, as opposed to reactivity. We train ourselves so that “fixing it” is not the first reflex.
One of the keys to this training is to wait.
More specifically, whenever there is a sense that we want to make something unpleasant go away, or to add in something more pleasant, can we first pause and relax. Take a moment. Ask ourselves, “can I be with this? Can I learn from this? Can I find compassion amidst this?” Genuinely surrender with patience.
Often, when I engage in this process, it turns out I’m just fine with how things are. And when, like in the story I’m sharing today, the “weight resistance” is beyond my skill level, at some point, I can make a change out of a deeper move of discernment, rather than an immediate reaction.
As a relatable example, if we are meditating and our back starts hurting, rather than immediately shifting our posture, can we just wait. In giving ourself some time to work with it, maybe we can just remain as-is, or maybe we do end up shifting the posture — however, even here, by lingering in the discomfort first, we’re training our capacity for patience, resilience and discernment.
I also note this is very relevant in relationships. Rather than addressing every issue or dislike we have with another person, when we can patiently wait, often our own objections and reactivity just clear on their own. And when they don’t, we can initiate a compassionate conversation at an appropriate time, rather than lunging into a reactive one in a heated moment.
Of course, often times there is literally is nothing we can do. Chronic pain or people in our life that are just plain disagreeable are two easy examples.
This is where the Vipassana practice is so powerful — to train ourselves in understanding suffering & its end on the deepest level. Every time you “practice with” a removable discomfort, spending time with it, you’re increasing your capacity to meet anything.
Just wait a moment.
What About Bigger Issues?
We can talk about dealing with small annoyances, like loud noises, minor physical discomfort, or relational hiccups, but what about the bigger stuff? What about social injustices like racism, oppression, climate change, houselessness, economic inequality, or personal hardships, like cancer diagnoses, addiction, mental health struggles, poverty or severe health conditions?
In a nutshell, it comes back to operating our life from wisdom rather than reactivity.
Another one of the teachers on the retreat described that in 2019, in a span of only weeks, her mother died by suicide, her father was diagnosed with terminal cancer and given months to live, and her husband revealed he was deeply addicted to heroin and crystal meth.
Clearly, the teaching here isn’t to “do nothing.” There is a space for lots of proactive action, like arranging affairs, grieving, caretaking, moving, and so on.
However, as she described, rather than initiating all that from some frantic fix-it mode, can she initiate those actions from a place of center? Can she do so without expectations, just being willing to continue applying herself and meeting whatever happens next, whether she likes it or not? Can she do so with great tenderness & love rather than annoyed-until-it-improves?
In Buddhist practice, whether the issue is tiny or huge, we start by training ourselves in how to find center, and conduct our life from that place. How to find center? To put it simply, just wait a moment. Breathe.
In times when we are really struggling to make it work, is there an easy solution like changing our seat or accepting help? When there isn’t an easy solution, can we wholeheartedly embrace this moment as our life practice — to live into that intersection of surrender and steady effort
Conclusion
There is a time for “fixing” or “addressing” issues in our life and in the world; however, the Buddhist training is to undo “fixing-it” as an immediate, primary reaction to life.
In turn, maybe you want to try out the ritual we took on for the retreat — to spend even the rest of today resolving to release judging, comparing and fixing.
However, rather than being rigid and perfectionist about it, incline yourself towards the deeper principle of living your life from wisdom as opposed to reactivity, and if/when the time comes where it’s appropriate to apply some fixing energy, you can do so from a more centered place.
When in doubt, just wait a moment.
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