Last year was what I call The Best Worst Year, or The Worst Best Year, of my life. The highs were extreme highs of joyous joy. The lows were stuck-in-bed unbearable. I did my best to find a place between those extremes; working out, practicing yoga and meditating all ranked at the top of the list. However, meditation through grief and crisis is such a challenge.
Right above those three pathways, therapy won out. I was lucky enough to find a therapist who understood immediately that grief feels like death, that I was breathing only because breathing is involuntary, and even then, I was holding my breath.
My entire life, I’ve wanted to help others. I’ve wanted to take care. Part of my grief came from a loss I suffered in taking care. I learned that taking care can also be an extreme. Ah, codependency. This explains a lot. And by “a lot,” I mean “my entire life.” Giving works only if I also receive.
So I tell you that story to tell you this one.
Five hours of silence
A silent meditation retreat had also been lingering near the top of my list, since the other methods had proven to help over time. I found a retreat that would last five hours. That seemed like the best way to ease into this new world. At 10 a.m. on a Saturday, I excitedly sat in a room with others seeking happiness through hours of silent meditation.
The first contemplation the leader discussed was giving. We each feel as if we are the center of the universe. Since everyone feels that, no one can be right. Therefore, to find happiness, we need to give. The Buddha says that giving love is the path to joy.
Okay, hold up. I had just spent almost a year crawling out of the depths of codependent despair, and now I was learning that I simply needed to give? No. This was not happening.
I grew really angry. I now knew this silent meditation retreat was a waste of time. I also knew that the Buddha was codependent.
The Buddha understands balance
Then I thought about what I’ve learned about codependency: at the heart of all that giving is the need to be wanted, to be the savior, maybe the martyr. That’s the same as feeling like we’re the center of the universe.
Then the talk turned to finding equilibrium. Part of giving is directing love toward ourselves. Self-care is as important as caring for others.
The Buddha is not codependent after all. The Buddha understands balance.
In self-care lies self-worth. From self-worth comes the power and energy to offer happiness to others. If others don’t return that love, we can still be joyful. If we don’t receive the same energy back, we can take inventory, evaluate the cost, and decide whether it’s worth it to keep giving, and for how long.
If we decide to direct our energy elsewhere, the work we already put in is not lost. This is karma: working toward equilibrium for love and happiness. Through this delicate balance, we can breathe and find peace.
