Chapter 1: The Challenge of Grief

Experiencing loss is undeniably challenging, yet embracing a sense of oneness can provide solace.

About a year ago, I lost my father, and the memory of his passing still lingers vividly in my mind. Recently, a neighbor passed away unexpectedly while walking his dog—a sudden heart attack taking him without warning. During a solitary retreat, I encountered a dying seagull, and as I maintained gentle eye contact, I felt a deep compassion for its suffering. It was as if we shared an unspoken connection, and then, just like that, it was gone. Its eyes closed, and life slipped away—a stark reminder of death's inevitability.

After several days without meditation, I finally sat down today. My thoughts had been chaotic, especially with an upcoming university assignment looming over me, leaving me anxious about potential failure. Additionally, I grappled with remorse over past words that cost me friendships. It’s clear that our speech and thoughts hold immense power—essential elements of the path to realizing Buddhahood.

Thanks to a friend who joins me on Zoom for meditation twice a week, I managed to sit down and practice today, and I’m thankful I did.

Meditation is a vital practice. In moments of mental disarray, it becomes challenging to engage with the path. Mindfulness helps unify the mind by focusing on a meditation object. Once the mind steadies and finds stillness, one can transcend the object and experience the state of samadhi, or oneness.

After meditating with my friend for thirty minutes, I felt compelled to extend my practice, so I joined a Zen group I’m part of. This session was markedly different and more demanding. Grief surfaced, causing agitation within my mind.

To stabilize myself, I concentrated on the grounding nature of the Earth element. I felt the weight of my body, my right hand resting atop my left—solid and firm like two carved stones. I tuned into the sturdiness of my legs and my upright spine, which steadied my mind. As I sat still, I became aware of my breath filling my entire body, as if illuminating an inner cave. I let this energy flow and swirl, experiencing my body from within.

The Buddha illustrated this process with a simile of a bath attendant kneading soap flakes with water. The attendant carefully massages water into the soap without letting it seep out, similar to how I allowed my breath energy to fill my body while keeping it contained. This practice creates a healing momentum.

While grappling with my grief, memories of my father came rushing back—the final moments I spent holding his hand in the hospital, feeling powerless and fearful, wishing I knew what to say to comfort him. I miss him deeply. My sister sent me a heart emoji on the anniversary of his passing, a silent acknowledgment that she too was feeling the weight of loss.

During meditation, I noticed my mind’s tendency to reach out through the sense doors, grasping at sounds or thoughts—distractions that scatter the mind. In contrast, there's a type of thinking that directs the mind toward the meditation object, connecting it to the internal sensations of the body. This focused thinking, often called directed thought and evaluation, helps gather the mind together.

To unify the mind, it’s essential to withdraw from external distractions and maintain focus on a singular object. When the mind is collected and stable, a profound relief can emerge, leading naturally to a sense of oneness.

This morning, I reflected on the notion that craving is the source of suffering. Our tendencies to reach out and grasp at desires were illustrated well by a Buddhist monk's teachings, who likened clinging to feeding. In the Garden of Eden, it was craving that led to Eve and Adam reaching for the forbidden apple—knowledge of pleasure and pain. What we cling to shapes who we become, leading us to old age, illness, and ultimately death—along with sorrow and grief, all because of the transient nature of existence.

I contemplated how craving often underpins my struggles—whether it’s yearning for something I desire, wishing for a different reality, or aspiring to be someone else. The second noble truth teaches that to alleviate suffering, one must relinquish craving. However, letting go is not easy; cravings can be powerful and persistent, shaped by past experiences. The path of practice, known as the Noble Eightfold Path, offers gradual training that fosters wholeness, allowing us to release our attachment to worldly desires.

Craving can be a relentless burden, driving us to seek fulfillment in ways that ultimately lead to torment. True liberation, or Nibbana, brings inner stability, happiness, and lasting peace, freeing us from emotional turmoil.

I take refuge in the Buddha. As he faced death, he advised his followers to find refuge within themselves and make their own understanding their guiding light. He urged them to become their own teachers.

I often seek guidance from the Buddha within—my inner wisdom. I asked, "How does one truly let go when it feels so difficult?"

The response was clear: "Dispassion leads to release. Cultivate a lack of attachment to what you desire. Recognize their fleeting nature and how this recognition can foster disinterest. Through this dispassion, the mind naturally lets go, experiencing true freedom."

I expressed my concern: "But dispassion feels akin to depression; it doesn’t seem joyful."

The Buddha replied, "Dispassion isn’t meant to be depressing. It’s approached with serenity and a cheerful, unburdened mind. A scattered mind cannot achieve this. Gather your thoughts through meditation; only then can you let go. Samadhi is essential. You cannot relinquish desire when your intentions are disjointed. Focus your intentions through samadhi, and the rest will follow."

This is often the advice I resist. I sometimes feel a strong aversion to meditation, as my mind can be obstinate and hard to guide. Yet, every time I commit to sitting in meditation, I emerge feeling more whole. It’s easier to accomplish tasks when my mind is collected, as this sense of unity enhances my ability to engage with the other aspects of my practice.

I am grateful for my friend and the Zen group that meets online. Without their encouragement, I might have skipped meditation today. However, it was precisely what I needed during this tumultuous period. Engaging in an hour of meditation made a significant difference in my emotional state.

Finding companions to meditate with can be immensely beneficial. With just a Zoom connection, we can support each other across distances, ensuring we stay committed to our practice.

In the video titled "The Science & Process of Healing from Grief," the discussion focuses on understanding grief's emotional landscape and how to navigate it effectively. This insight can be invaluable for anyone dealing with loss.

Another enlightening video, "Why Knowing More About Grief Can Make It Suck Less," explores how knowledge and understanding can alleviate the pain of grief, providing viewers with tools to cope better.