By Ian Sneath
One of the senior nuns, Sister Tu Nghiem, encouraged me to take the Five Mindfulness Trainings as Master Thay’s vision of a global ethic on 27th March 2014. I agreed to do it, even though I felt some unease. I knew that keeping to all of the teachings would be a steep challenge.
By Ian Sneath
One of the senior nuns, Sister Tu Nghiem, encouraged me to take the Five Mindfulness Trainings as Master Thay's vision of a global ethic on 27th March 2014. I agreed to do it, even though I felt some unease. I knew that keeping to all of the teachings would be a steep challenge. She reassured me that as long I was aware of the trainings, changes would come. She was so right. I am on the path now, and I am so grateful to her for the encouragement.
The road is a long and winding one. Sometimes I wander off and get lost. Then, with the help and support of many wonderful people I have met through Plum Village, I get back on the path again to continue my journey. I am so grateful to all the people who have helped me along the path.
THIS IS MY STORY
My suffering is nothing compared to the suffering of many on this planet who live with hardship, want, and even war every day of their lives. I count my blessings every day. But, when all is said and done, this is my story. If my experience can help one other person, or relieve suffering even the slightest bit, then it is worth telling.
When I was four years of age my mother left me, without explanation. Thank goodness she left me with grandparents who looked after me with love and kindness. I felt abandoned and hurt, and full of questions. Why did my mother leave me but take my brother with her? I developed inferiority complexes inside, along with fear and anxiety. I longed for a mother’s love. I believe that, as a protective mechanism, my mind stepped in to shield me from this pain. I began to plan a future where I would not be abandoned or powerless anymore.
I had always felt a strong energy in me, a real spirit. As I was growing up, although I didn't realise it, I started to run. At school—which seemed to reinforce the idea that society is a hard, violent place for boys—I sought solace in sports, studies, and friendships. My best friend Nick and I would conjure up ways to get rich one day. In my mind, money meant protection, safety, control, and esteem. As I projected into the future, I saw a more successful self-entity emerge based on the acquisition of wealth.
In many ways these childhood schemes became a reality. By the time I reached my late thirties, I'd “made it”: I had acquired wealth and success in the ways I'd set out to do. I had outer riches, businesses, status, and the illusion of control over my life. It should have felt great and wonderful…. But it just didn't ring true. None of this brought my mother back or answered my questions or made me happy. Still, you might say, “You’re rich! You made it! Enjoy your achievements!”
Ah, but what price had I paid? I was divorced. Though inhabiting a man’s body, I was basically a four-year-old boy craving love and protection. When my romantic partners excluded me, I felt abandoned; I shut down and stopped communicating. When communication broke down, so did love and understanding. I had missed out on parts of my two wonderful children’s formative years. I had let good friendships go. I had let time slip through my fingers, not living in the moment but in a future that wasn't real, and I started to feel there was something I was missing.
My strategy was now to use wealth to buy freedom. I met a new partner and had a new exciting romantic relationship. I travelled and partied; everything should have been rosy. So why was I not entirely happy? Why was my mind so active that I couldn't switch it off? Why did I need noise, a TV, Bloomberg News as soon as I awoke, and a phone that was always ringing? I seemed to need to be moving and planning all the time. Why couldn't I just relax?
When alone, I was not happy with myself at all. I felt that things couldn't go on this way. There was a battle going on inside between my ego and my true self. I wasn't sure how or what I was doing, but I know something had to change—and fast.
FINDING THAY
My restlessness led me to read many books on peace and happiness. As if by chance, I discovered Thay’s teachings early on. There is a saying that goes something like “If you are searching for water and it’s ten feet down, why keep digging five-foot wells?” My busy lifestyle appeared to be just that: a five-foot well that could never quench my thirst. I’d found the water and nourishment in Thay, so I stopped digging. I was immensely touched by Thay’s teachings and, for once, didn't feel preached to. A seed had been planted. My inner child was waking up.
Just as I'd found Thay, my earthly success started to fade (as it always does). In one of my businesses, a man I trusted was caught doing illegal trades. He was convicted and sent to prison, and we had to sell the business at a loss. My reputation had been hit, and I felt extremely vulnerable. At the same time my romantic relationship was also in tatters. I realised I had been making lots of wrong decisions driven by my mind and ego, and I was juggling too many things and ignoring my inner voice. This prompted me to seek more help and to deepen my practice.
HEALING MY INNER CHILD
I enlisted the help of Wendy, a psychotherapist. She suggested EMDR (eye movement desensitization and reprocessing) treatment, a therapy usually prescribed for post-traumatic stress disorder. She explained it as sorting out the jumbled-up filing cabinet that is the brain and placing everything in order. This sounded good to me, and I was eager to try.
During my sessions, I kept having visions of a nightmare I used to have as a child. In the dream, I was locked in a bedroom with my baby brother. I lay curled up on my bed under the covers, so frightened I could not move. I could hear violence all around me. I was completely helpless and terrified. I asked Wendy why this nightmare kept coming up, and she said she strongly suspected this had actually happened.
After one session, I went to my mother’s home and asked her if anything like this had occurred. She looked at me in disbelief and replied, “I can't believe you can remember this.” I was stunned. She went on to tell me that my stepfather used to come home drunk and beat her. As a child, I couldn't defend my mother, my brother, or myself. Click. Everything fell into place.
I could see where lots of my habit energy was coming from: the desire to be in control, to be free, to protect, to grasp, and to live free from fear. Now I had all the pieces to heal my inner child. With Thay’s mindfulness practice, and with Wendy's support and guidance, I was able to let go of many of the grasping tendencies and insecurities, and to release myself from running constantly into the future and losing myself in busyness.
I went back into my childhood bedroom, pulled back the covers, and held my four-year-old self. I told him we are safe, we are grown up, and there is no more need to be scared. All the answers were inside us. Filled with compassion for my inner child, I was able to radiate love and compassion outwardly to the world.
A SIMPLE LIFE WITH PEACE AND FREEDOM
Now I have a simple life largely free of craving. I have moved from a seventeen-room house to a seventeen-meter narrow boat and from a Range Rover to a camper van. I have made peace in my heart with my ex-wife, my grandmother, my mother and father, romantic partners, and many business associates. They all had their own suffering. Thay says love is impossible without understanding. Unfortunately, I often haven't taken the time to truly understand another’s suffering. It's something I'm practicing with. How many loved ones do we really understand deeply?
I am currently utilising my skill sets by venturing into a transparent, not-for-profit ethical investment fund. The profits generated will help build mindful communities around the world. I am also writing a book on the subject of money and mindfulness, and how to balance the two. I've a long way to go, but I am taking baby steps.
I wish to leave you with a simple mantra I repeat often: “The only thing we leave behind are our actions.” I invite all of us to reflect on this question: What actions are we leaving behind?
Ian Sneath, Deep Understanding of the Heart, practices with the Leicestershire Sangha in the United Kingdom. He can be reached at ian@iplanconsulting.co.uk.