Near Enemies

Day Six Hundred & Six
Wednesday, February 1st 2012

Friend, hope for the truth while you are alive.
Jump into the experience while you are alive! . . .
If you don't break your ropes while you are alive,
do you think ghosts will do it after?
--Kabir, Indian mystic poet

Near Enemies excerpted from “A Path with Heart” by Jack Kornfield
“The near enemy of loving-kindness is attachment. We have all noticed how attachment can creep into our love relationships. True love is an expression of openness: 'I love you as you are without any expectations or demands.' At first, attachment may feel like love, but as it grows it becomes more clearly the opposite, characterized by clinging, controlling, & fear.

The near enemy of compassion is pity, & this also separates us. Pity feels sorry for 'that poor person over there,' as if he were somehow different from us, whereas true compassion, . . . is the resonance of our heart with the suffering of another. 'Yes, I, too, together with you, share in the sorrows of life.'

The near enemy of sympathetic joy (the joy in the happiness of others) is comparison, which looks to see if we have more of, the same as, or less than another. Instead of rejoicing with them, a subtle voice asks, 'Is mine as good as his?' 'When will it be my turn?' –again creating separation.”

I have found that the existence or lack of sympathetic joy is a profound way to reveal who my true friends are instinctively. With true friends, I find myself experiencing no jealousy or envy from either side, neither within myself nor from the other person. When, for example, Rachel, one of my extremely close friends & confidantes, accomplishes something or has a reason to be proud of herself, I find myself truly, genuinely happy for her. I can share in her joy, & I can share in her pride, free entirely from the stain of envy. I personally believe that this is because Rachel & I are equals and perceive ourselves & one another as such in our friendship.

Contrarily, there are times when I do find myself experiencing jealousy toward another. If my hypothesis is true, people in my life or friends with whom I share equality do not inspire this negative emotion. Thus, I can conclude that instances where I am wanting or find myself lacking in comparing myself to another person deem that other person to not be a close friend. Perhaps in such circumstances, little possibility actually exists for a true friendship to ever evolve. This logic works both ways. When I sense jealousy or envy from another person, likewise, that person is not a close friend & there is little hope of him or her ever becoming one. It is a sad truth in my life that I sometimes find myself sensing these negative emotions from certain individuals, particularly in light of my accomplishments, self-growth, or something else that warrants being coveted.

“The near enemy of equanimity is indifference. True equanimity is balance in the midst of experience, whereas indifference is a withdrawal & not caring, based on fear. It is a running away from life. Thus, with equanimity, the heart is open to touch all things, both the seasons of joy & sorrow. The voice of indifference withdraws, saying 'Who cares. I'm not going to let it affect me.'”

Though I do not personally struggle with indifference (perhaps because I am a very passionate & inspired person by nature), I do find myself challenged by this issue. Should I include some people in my life? No, particularly those who have hurt me & who continue to harm me. Am I afraid? Yes, & I admit that I do withdraw on a very physical level. I know that I cannot control others, I cannot force understanding up anyone, I cannot open a person's eyes to see my perspective, I cannot bludgeon another person with reason, & I cannot take responsibility for anyone else's reactions, emotions, beliefs, or anything else. I would rather distance myself from those who cause me pain by willfully misinterpreting my actions, who choose to think poorly of me in a given difficult situation, or who put me in the position of having to defend myself. Defending myself is something I simply will not do. A true friend is someone who believes the best in me, who does not put me “on the defensive” if there is a misunderstanding, but who comes to me from a place of love & gently asks me to open up, allowing me the chance to explain myself rather than forcing an explanation.

I cannot simply say “I'm not going to let it affect me,” as the voice of indifference would, but equanimity is difficult to attain when I believe that someone else feels they have been wronged, that another person feels justified in their anger or hatred toward me. Were I really that awful, spiteful, vindictive, evil, it would imply that the other person has not only the right to abhor me, but that he or she is flawed in some way for having engaged in my friendship at all. It is incredibly difficult for me to walk away, to create that distance between myself & another person, to protect myself by not responding or by ceasing contact altogether. But by no means am I indifferent. However, I can only hear screams directed at me from another person so many times before I find myself not wanting to speak.

“Each of these near enemies can masquerade as a spiritual quality, but when we call our indifference spiritual or respond to pain with pity, we only justify our separation & make 'spirituality' a defense. This is reinforced by our culture, which often teaches us that we can become strong & independent by denying our feelings, using ideals & a strength of mind to create safety for ourselves. . . . Even the Buddha had some relationships that were easier than others; the most difficult ones brought him enemies who tried to kill him, troublesome students, & problems with his parents when he went home to visit.”

I take comfort in knowing that I am not alone in this struggle. If the Buddha could weather stormy interpersonal situations with such grace as he is now remembered for, then it is my hope that so may I. In the words of Elizabeth Kübler-Ross, “I'm not okay, you're not okay, & that's okay.” I am thankful that Mongolia seems to have acted as a natural filter for people in my life, easily separating those who care from those who do not. The separation is easy only in its apparent nature, however. There is nothing easy about confronting the sense of abandonment & disregard I experience in thinking about friends in my life before I embarked upon this journey, ones who have not proverbially traveled with me, friends to whom I thought I mattered. There is nothing easy about discovering I mean very little to the very people who mattered very much to me.

Irregardless, I am thankful. I am thankful for this experience, as I am thankful for the revelation of who has fallen by the wayside, as I am thankful for the searing pain of separation, as I am thankful for the distance on this path, as I am thankful for the sometimes choking sorrow at the thought of those who I have lost along the way. I am thankful because for every person who is not in my life today, there are endless more individuals who have stepped into my heart to fill the void. There are countless more who took root in my heart long ago, only to blossom during the time I have been so far away from them. There are friends that I have found, uncovered, & rediscovered in the most obvious & most unexpected of places. There are people who genuinely believe in me, who hold the thought of me with tenderness, who enliven my life, who provide me with a beautiful vision of hope. To both the broken friends & the radiant friends whom I cherish beyond even my own ability to comprehend, I love you. I love you so much.

“If you had a limitless life, it would be a real problem for you.”
-Zen master Suzuki Roshi to his students as he lay dying