Sunday, February 19, 2012


As I teach more and more, the question of technique inevitably arises.  What technique should I follow to achieve peace of mind?  What approach should I use to experience a more gentle heart.  What should my practice be?

And I am a bit at a loss, because this isn't about doing something, it's about being something, and I don't know how to tell someone that.  There are countless religions, practices, philosophies, concepts, books, organizations and speakers dedicated to telling people how to do something.

And from what I can see, they mostly draw from the same ancient wisdom we've had access to for thousands of years, and re-package it in the language of the day, communicating truth and understanding as old as the earth with new words and images, trying to convey meaning and connection, giving new form to familiar content.

I don't know about technique.  I've tried so many, being disciplined and obedient, and felt always the hollow shell the technique confining me and stifling me, giving me access to one thing at the expense of every other thing.

I'm not looking for a quick trick to share, a set of steps to follow.  I don't know the technique to being more fully one's truest, deepest, most powerful self, and I'm pretty sure it's a lot bigger than that. Disillusioned practitioners reach the outer limits of the benefits of technique all the time, and then are faulted for failing the technique.

Direction is good.  Awareness and attention are good.  Acceptance and compassion are good.  But they are not magic tricks to master.  They require effort of the most intimate and fearless nature.

For those needing technique, I say go and find the one that suits you best.  There is no shortage of them.  But don't confuse the technique with the real work, don't confuse mastering technique with becoming a master.