The 30th lojong slogan says, “Don’t be so predictable.” And while it sounds straightforward, this one’s got some unpredictable depth to it. (See what I did there?!)
First and most directly, let’s talk about our hot buttons, those things that are sure to get us riled up. When someone pushes our buttons, we don’t have to be so predictable. We could just choose to respond differently, even when our whole body is already geared up to respond like we always do. Shunryu Suzuki said, “In the beginner’s mind there are many possibilities, in the expert’s mind few.” Beginners mind, that sense of being open and humble, allows us a LOT more room to move around. Experts think too highly of themselves and know too much to be open to being wrong.
Elizabeth Gilbert once said that all growth comes from just getting totally sick of our own B.S. We get so over it, this predictable way we do things or handle things or react to things. Gah, it’s just exhausting and boring and unhelpful. Don’t be so predictable.
We can choose differently. The next time we feel inflamed about an old story, we can remind ourselves that this story, the one happening right now as our cheeks feel flushed, is entirely new, and we can do with it what we want. It may or may not be linked to our older stories. But either way, we can do whatever we want in this moment to respond with new possibility. Maybe we can be brave enough to see something new happening instead of just the same old stuff, over and over again.
Predictability Isn’t Always A Dependable Friend
I mentioned that there’s some unpredictable depth to this slogan. That’s because the translation is a bit tricky. Some translate it as “Don’t rely on your good nature.” Others say “Don’t rely on a dependable friend.” The idea here is that we often use certain things- our sense of duty, our desire to be likable, our dislike of conflict- as a way of side-stepping the work. But mind-training isn’t about becoming a very predictable doormat. It’s about awakening to our true nature. We listen well to our emotions and reactions and the stories we tell in order to become more aware.
Traleg Kyabgon writes, “If we examine ourselves more closely, we may find that blindly showing good-naturedness is one of our most problematic impulses.” Whew, let’s put this on a sticky note as a daily reminder. Because culturally, we learn to respond, “I’m fine! It’s fine! No worries!” When we do that, we abandon ourselves.
For me, this has a very particular feeling. It’s like a slide into an outer shell of myself, and I can literally feel that I am being less authentic, less grounded in my true soul center. When I feel that now, I try to hit eject as quickly as possible. What I know for sure is that I don’t want to live at the outside edges of myself. So whatever it takes to dive back within, I go there. And then I try to forgive myself for being in automatic-good-natured-Danielle mode because she really does make life easier, and nobody can fault her for that. But I don’t have to be her, either. I can live here in the complex center, where, honestly? My good nature is a lot more robust anyway.
Where is your predictability dragging you down these days? How is your good-naturedness a problematic auto-drive? How can you practice coming back to yourself?
