Installment #2: Paradoxical # 1
Stop Caring
Last week, I shared what’s been on my mind regarding my current path—the Alchemy of my experiences and the practices I’m practicing to live a more meaningful life. I shared four (kind of) practices that at first are paradoxical and not something we typically practice or even hear about. DISCLAIMER: again, my path only. I seek not to give any advice to anybody. I’m just using this space to write “out loud,” loud enough for others to read, should they choose, but mainly for my own benefit. If you find benefit in any way, learning that from you would be humbling—but also gratifying in knowing we are never alone on our various paths, even though we travel unique ones that only we, alone, can travel. How’s THAT for paradoxical?
“You listening? I don’t care no more.”
(Lyrics to “I Don’t Care Anymore” by Phil Collins—the song, though, has nothing to do with this. Sort of.)
I also mentioned last week none of these practices are new to the world—in fact, they go back a couple of millennia—to the teachings of Buddha, Lao Tzu, Dogen, the Greeks and Romans (especially the Stoics), and other various, ancient mystics. Because I want to live a meaningful life of excellence, I know enough to know there is so much I don’t know. But I also know others have explored many of these same, existential questions that I love to consider and reflect upon. So, I read, and listen, and learn, and try, and make mistakes, and try again better. My path is not one leading toward a perfection which, by definition, can never exist. My path is one toward excellence—the two terms, excellence and perfection, are NOT synonymous. I also know enough about how these kinds of paths work that there really is no destination—the “destination” IS the path; it’s not a quaint cliché. The destination IS the journey itself.
We have no place to get to; we’re already here.
~ Ram Dass
So one’s ultimate purpose, as taught by our ancient mystic teachers, is to live with joy.
I’m learning how “not caring” gets me there.
Krishnamurti, the contemporary Indian mystic and philosopher, who died in 1986 at the age of 90, is one of my teachers on this paradoxical practice of not caring. Here, he echoes what Buddha and Zen masters teach about the practice of “non-attachment.” One of the ways we suffer is by being attached to things—by clinging to an ideal, by holding on to a preference, by needing to be right, by becoming emotional about consequences and outcomes; in short, by caring. I had gone far to internalize these teachings, as taught by the Buddha’s Four Noble Truths, but sometimes it takes a different teacher to “hit one squarely inter-ocularly” (ie “right between the eyes!”), in order for the teaching, the Truth, to firmly wake us up to it. For that, I credit the contemporary teacher Michael Singer (he of “The Untethered Soul” fame—great book! See link below.), for stating this Truth in the form of the paradox: “Stop caring about how anything turns out. You are NOT supposed to care!”
Like the ancient mystics, Singer teaches that the mind is the ultimate source of all our problems. ALL our problems. Every. Single. One.
Name a problem you have, and, perhaps with guidance, you will be able to trace it back to your own mind. I speak here from experience. I’ve done this. I still continue to do this. It’s making a HUGE difference! Singer’s teaching is thus:
The truth always sounds trite. You care about what happens in the different situations you interact with each day. If you're going to work you care if you get the raise, you care if you succeed, you care if somebody else does better than you, you care if you get recognized, you care if you get yelled at, you care about every single thing that takes place. You have a way you want it to be and you care if it turns out that way. That is why your mind is so active. If you will watch your mind, it's doing the following: it's telling you how you want it (your life) to be, it's telling you how to get it that way, it's worrying about whether it will be that way, it's judging who's on your side, who's not, what forces are helping, what forces are going to hurt you, it's plotting and planning what to say, what not to say, judging you because you said something stupid. It's just in there constantly talking about how it wants to be and whether it's going to be that way because you care about the outcome; it's all about caring about the outcome.
~ Michael Singer (I’ll disclose the source of this quote in installment #5 of these Paradoxical Practices)
If we are honest with ourselves, check that…when I am honest with myself, this is EXACTLY how my mind works. With anything. I used to golf, not often, but when I did I would get frustrated whenever a drive or a chip or a putt didn’t go where I wanted it to go (which, if I were real with you, I’d fess up that this occurred every other shot). I got frustrated because I cared how my shot ended up. I love the Seahawks—every play that doesn’t result in a first down; every drive that doesn’t result in a touchdown; every defensive stand that doesn’t result in a stop, turnover, or punt; every game that doesn’t result in a win (even Super Bowl games when a certain call for a pass at the one yard line at the end of the game results in an interception instead of the much desired touchdown) causes me frustration, still, because I care about the team’s success. I care about the outcome.
But this is obviously more than insignificant games or experiences like sports or hobbies. For a Universal Truth to be a Universal Truth, it has to apply to all aspects of a life—the small ones, sure, but most importantly, the big ones. When I interviewed for a principal position, I cared about whether I got the job, whether those doing the interview “liked” me. When I didn’t get the job, I grew depressed which created self-doubt, disillusionment, and deep sadness. When I got the job, I experienced joy, satisfaction, affirmation, a feeling that “they liked me, they really liked me!” BOTH reactions following my getting the job and not getting the job were because I cared about the outcome.
When I was actively principalling, and let’s say I had to speak with an angry parent, I tended to worry and get anxious about the meeting, going so far as to even script out what I wanted to say all the while envisioning how I wanted the meeting to go—while at the same time fearing it wouldn’t. All because I cared about the outcome of that meeting. [Reality check: the meetings NEVER went the way of my ideal. Sometimes they went better than expected; other times not so much. Regardless, I was fortunate to be learning this “not caring” practice early enough in my career such that I was able, as I approached the end of my tenure, to feel how emancipating it is to let go of preconceptions, to let go of the worry, to not care about the outcome, and to just be fully in the moment trusting my skills and instincts to help manage and resolve issues. “Not caring works!”]
I’m invested heavily in the presidential election—why? Because I care about the outcome. I know I could either be extremely happy on November 5 (or whenever the results are known), or extremely upset. Because I care about the outcome.
The warning signs that this is happening, that I’m caring about how things turn out, is found in the emotions of frustration, anger, disappointment, worry, stress, tension, depression…in fact, maybe in every “negative” or unskillful emotion that a human can have. Remember, it IS a Truism that all problems are caused by mind. If I’m presented with any experience that causes anything other than joy or happiness or equanimity or contentment, then I’m in a place of caring which also means I’m in a place in which MY ideal hasn’t been met. Instead, reality is what is real right in front of me; reality is what happens or has happened—and when it’s not what I want, I experience anxiety of some sort. In other words, because I cared about an outcome, and my outcome didn’t happen, I suffer.
But shouldn’t we care?
Ah, there’s the rub. There’s the paradox. And therein lies the deepest teaching of all. This is why this teaching is counter-intuitive because we are conditioned to live our lives to have certain goals, desires, and outcomes. We are conditioned to care about how things turn out.
Singer would say, and I’m coming to see the value in it, that, no, we shouldn’t care. Unless I want to continue to cause myself unnecessary suffering, no, I shouldn’t care. I shouldn’t care about any outcome to any experience I’m having. The world doesn’t exist to serve me. The weather is not supposed to be sunny and warm, but not too warm, if I’ve planned an outdoor picnic for my family. People in my life don’t exist to make me happy. I should never feel entitled to have a preferred outcome to any experience. The reality of any given moment is ALWAYS independent of my desire to make that moment something selfish.
A quick distinction in case it’s not obvious: There is a bit of a difference, here, between caring (having a caring heart), and caring about how things turn out. I care about my family; I care about my livelihood; I care about my home and the environment; I care about education and students and teachers; I care about animals and my commitment to a Vegan lifestyle; I care about kindness. I aspire to have a caring and compassionate heart. THIS is different from caring about how the experiences of life, my actions and behavior, my lived reality moment after moment, turn out. Rather than the things themselves, this is about my expectations, desires, and ideals I lay upon them, and how dependent I might become on those things to “make me happy.”
Remember, all problems are caused by the mind. Remember as well, happiness should be our ultimate purpose. Life in this boundless and seemingly infinite Universe is beyond rare—we don’t have a word that appropriately describes just how rare life is. I am one who does believe life exists on other planetary bodies—I think it was Carl Sagan who said “if it doesn’t, it would be an awful waste of space.” But I also believe that that life would look different from the life inhabiting Earth. And there is nothing to suggest the inevitability of life’s evolution that all life would end, at its pinnacle, with the human form. So in addition to the rarity of life, we add to that the random happenstance that HUMAN life should evolve from the beginnings of life’s origins making our presence an even more rare occurrence. One has to “get spiritual” to approach the level of awe that life should spark within us—we should always call it what it is, a miracle. My point is that our life, short as it is in the grand scheme of things, with reality always as it will be regardless of our puny desires to want to control it, should be one of joy. Happiness is not something to attain (Jefferson, and the Committee of Five, didn’t quite capture it correctly when they wrote in the Declaration of Independence):
“We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.
Happiness isn’t something to pursue. That’s exactly where we err. To pursue something means we desire it—sometimes we’ll achieve what we desire, sometimes we won’t. That’s life; that’s simply reality. We only need look around to see this phenomenon in virtually every other person we see. Unfortunately, that’s the default setting culture and society has laid upon us. But look closer at some people—some, you will see, seem to always carry themselves with a sense of grace and equanimity, no matter their circumstance. They always seem to be cheerful and happy. You may become curious about them, so curious you ask them why, given everything going on in the world, everything that may have happened to them, “why is it possible they can be happy?” Most will say something to the effect: “Life’s too short to not make my journey a happy one. I simply choose to be happy regardless of what happens.”
Those people exist. I’ve met some.
Happiness and joy are states of Being. They cannot be attained from without; they must be cultivated from within. Each one of us has the capacity to choose that way of existence. We have been taught many practices that should help us get to that state of equanimity—meditation, ritual, self-care strategies, mindfulness, and yoga are but a few. But we have forgotten them, or simply do not apply them when times are tough, so we suffer as a result. “In life, there is suffering.” This means suffering as well is a choice. It is. When I’m honest with myself, I know this to be true—sometimes I want to stay there, in that dark space of depression, maybe to gain another’s sympathy; maybe to avoid something I really don’t want to face; maybe to simply take a break from the chaos and noise; maybe because I need “deep rest.” But it is undeniable now, to me, that I choose to be there. I always have the choice to be elsewhere.
Along these exact lines, that suffering is a choice, it becomes tantalizing to consider that suffering, actually, does not exist. It is not a real thing. You can’t bring me suffering as something physical, that I can touch and hold. Suffering has no material form—so a good argument can be had that it isn’t real. Only our minds make it so. “Every problem, even the problem of suffering, exists only in mind.”
Because he attached the last two Noble Truths to the first two, that there is an end to suffering and that the way to end it is to follow eight specific practices, perhaps the Buddha was really saying: “In life, suffering exists, but only in our minds. Get out of your mind, and you’ll get out of your suffering. With no mind, in life, there is no suffering.”
I’m learning, when I am there in those dark suffering places, it’s because I cared about the way reality happened. Like Singer says, it is my mind that causes me to care. When my emotional climate turns dark, turns out it was because things didn’t fit my preconceived notions of how I wanted them to be. So, I’m trying to fully realize this paradoxical practice of “not caring” to short circuit that human propensity.
Perhaps this sounds rather callous, to “not care” about anything as a way of living. What about all the people who lost their entire homes and life’s savings from the recent hurricanes? What about the wars that are killing thousands of children and mothers? What about the 34 count felon Donald Trump being a major party’s candidate for president?
What if that was my home in Florida destroyed by Hurricane Milton? What if that was my child or grandchild in Gaza or Ukraine? What if Trump wins? [Spoiler alert: it was, it has, it did, he is…. We are not as separate as reality paints us to be.]
No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of they friends`s or of thine own were. Any man`s death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind. And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.
~ John Donne
If it’s hard to buy into this right now, maybe because it is a new concept or it is too radical a paradox, please hold judgment because there’s more to the story, more to the practice. I myself needed to hear it repeatedly, in different forms, then apply it to my own life’s experience to begin to see the Truth of it. In installment five of these “Paradoxicals,” I aim to bring everything full circle—not necessarily for anyone else but me. I don’t pretend to be an expert or guru, and I’m not looking to convert anyone or become a retreat leader. Not caring doesn’t mean I’ve become callous, or lazy, or lackadaisical, or hard-hearted, or non-compassionate. Quite the opposite as a matter of fact. But I know it might not yet make sense. I’m trying, here, to make sense of it for me. If you’re still with me, I trust you’ll discover some benefit for yourself.
Have I mentioned these are paradoxes? If “stop caring” is a big step, wait until you read the next two! These paradoxicals do not stand in isolation from each other—each depends upon one, final, unifying practice that brings it all together.
That’s installment five. Next up though, next week: installment three.
Live, Laugh, and Love—with Clear Eyes and a Full Heart.
Always and Ubuntu,
~ kert
Ahimsa!
🙏🏼
Michael Singer’s works that have impacted me include:
A good primer on Jiddu Krishnamurti’s philosophy include:
I relate wholeheartedly, Kert.
Caring too much has been an ongoing source of sorrow and a compelling inquiry into freedom for many years. The challenge has been learning to care less and trust more.
But it’s not easy because to be human is to care deeply about our lives and the world around us. “Teach us to care and not to care,” wrote T.S. Eliot, one of my favorite lines.
Thank you for this valuable exploration.
I’m loving these explorations. I’ve been practicing not caring too. Which, as you say, doesn’t mean what it sounds like. I feel much steadier for the practice!