Taking Refuge - Seeking Shelter in the Storm

When I go to a meditation retreat, one of the most meaningful parts of the retreat for me happens on the first evening - the ritual of Taking Refuge. After some opening remarks and instruction from the teachers in preparation for going into silence, the group chants together: 

Buddhaṃ śaraṇaṃ gacchāmi

Dhammaṃ śaraṇaṃ gacchāmi

Sanghaṃ śaraṇaṃ gacchāmi

I take refuge in the Buddha

I take refuge in the Dharma

I take refuge in the Sangha

The reciting of this vow always brings such a sense of peace to me, such a sense of being safe and at home. Since my very first retreat, these words have been my silent prayer as I take my seat and prepare for my daily sit.  

In these past few weeks, as the separation and violence in the world seem to be escalating to a fever pitch, I am finding myself in deep reflection about how taking refuge in the three jewels of Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha became a lifeboat for me, and how it continues to carry me to shore when the waves seem to crash too hard and fast for me to keep my head above the water.

I came to the dharma as a refugee. Devastated by a lifetime of trauma, loss, and addiction, I wandered around - lost, alone, and pretty hopeless - for years. My soul was completely unanchored and disconnected in an emotional landscape where I felt alien and unwelcome. I spent every waking minute trying to outrun the demons of my past that seemed to lurk around every corner, just waiting to devour me with the first misstep. My whole life revolved around a desperate and endless search for safety…a place to hide away my heart, rest my exhausted mind, and maybe catch my breath a little.

The door to the dharma opened to me on the internet…yes, on the internet. During a particularly rough period, I began seeing a new therapist. I had been making a few attempts at beginning a meditation practice, but was having difficulty sustaining it for very long. As soon as my body and/or mind would begin to relax, huge waves of panic and fear and, often, traumatic memory would rise up in the place of the constant protective tension that was my “normal.” I was not sleeping, was nearly disabled by depression and anxiety and, frankly, was having some pretty dark thoughts about just giving up entirely. One day, my new therapist recommended that I listen to a guided Metta meditation each day and sent me to Tara Brach’s website. That night, I followed along with the guided practice, which began with the image of the smile of the Buddha, as I whispered to myself, “May I be filled with loving presence, held in loving presence…”  

For the first time in nearly 20 years, I felt a deep sense of love and safety. Refuge in the Buddha.

I held onto those talks and guided meditations for dear life. They became my life raft in a stormy sea. While I was very tired, and very wet…I was not drowning. There were moments of rest. I was learning not to fight the waves.

Suddenly, my reading list turned from mysteries, thrillers, and true crime stories to Buddhist psychology and teachings. I spent time reflecting on the 4 Noble Truths, impermanence, and the places where craving, clinging, and aversion had created suffering in my life. I began to really  understand how this is true for every human being and that there is a way out. There can be an end to the suffering, and there is a plan for that - the Eight Fold Path. 

As I delved deeper into my studies in that first year or so, I listened to many teachers - I listened to talks nearly every day. I developed a special interest in the heart practices of lovingkindness, joy, forgiveness, and equanimity. My courage was bolstered by stories from the Buddha’s life and the difficulties he encountered. I learned about welcoming Mara as a friend, and bringing a kind attention to everything that arises and skillful ways to sit with strong emotions like fear and panic and how to challenge the thoughts and beliefs that are at the core of suffering. I learned about RAIN and inquiry: What is this?  Can I be with it? The wings of awareness and compassion. Skillful means and open awareness.

I have to admit, I sucked at all of it in the beginning (not a judgment, just a factual observation). There were many moments of frustration and thoughts about how I could not do it…how I was too fucked up to ever be completely free (Admittedly, I sometimes still feel that, but it is, slowly but surely, losing its grip). But, for every one of those moments, there was another moment where, through these teachings, I came into direct contact with growing love and compassion in my heart…and with the peace and calm that were right at the center of that. I began to have a tiny seed of confidence that my soul had not, in fact, been burned to ashes in the destructive fires of my past as I so feared that it had.  

For the first time in nearly 20 years, I felt hope. Refuge in the Dharma.

Over a handful of years, my practice and this path became the very foundation that I build my life upon. I began going to retreats, where my commitment to the path deepened and my heart stretched and grew and I met like minded people that were equally committed to a path of compassion and awakening. The ground beneath me shifted as so much of what I believed about the world around me began to fall away in the context of my own developing compassion and understanding. A circle of spiritual friends was growing around me, and I began to feel such a sense of ease and care when we came together to meditate. I began to engage in local groups, online groups, and I traveled to Washington DC as much as I could to visit my parents and to sit with the folks I shared retreats with...and quickly came to know that sangha as "home."

For the first time in, really, my whole life, I felt a sense of belonging. Refuge in Sangha.

A year and a half ago, my practice was tested in a way that I wasn’t entirely sure it would survive. Unexpectedly, my mother became gravely ill just before a retreat was about to begin. I knew in my gut that she would not leave the hospital. In my deep and desperate understanding that I was completely helpless to change what I knew would be the outcome, and the fear that was nearly squeezing the breath out of my chest, I went on retreat. It is a decision that I occasionally think about and wonder if I did the right thing, but it is one that I do not regret. It was the single most compassionate decision that I could make for my own well being. In one of the most terrifying and vulnerable times in my life, the silence of the sangha both held me close and gave me the space to prepare my heart to face this painful lesson on impermanence.

A few days after the retreat had ended, I stood by her bedside holding her hand and stroking her hair as my beloved mother drew her last breaths. It took every skill I have learned to be able to let go of her hand and walk out of that hospital room that day without falling to my knees and shaking my fist at the universe. It was a little after 6pm on a Wednesday when my mother passed away, and at 7 o’clock I walked, once again, into the arms of my sangha, where I was held, supported, and loved through those first few hours. 

In the upcoming months, I would return again and again to this family. And whenever I did, love, kindness, and healing were always waiting for me there - refuge. I returned again and again to the guided meditations that had become less a part of my practice over time but, during this time of deep pain and grief, became a crucial support…again a life raft as I navigated the crashing waves. And, again and again, I would return to the basic teachings…others feel this too, there is a way through this suffering. There would be days and days that I would lean on the essential teachings around metta and resourcing as I struggled to stay grounded, hand on my heart, turning toward love in the moments when it felt like the grief was going to rip me apart or swallow me up.

Buddha. Dharma. Sangha. It's a daily practice.

Shelter. Protection. Safety. Relief.

And so, in these scary, crazy, uncertain times when the world seems to be spinning off of its axis and so many people feel separate and alone and are feeling that longing for safety, and shelter, and belonging…where is the refuge?

Today, I took my seat under the gaze of my mother’s laughing Buddha statue to meditate and could feel the warmth and love of my own being flowing through this heart that is breaking for the world as I rested in the awareness of only the present, happening moment. When the ending bell rang, I offered a deep bow of gratitude to this supreme, enlightened teacher and the beauty I find on this path.

Buddhaṃ śaraṇaṃ gacchāmi. I take refuge in the Buddha. 

Love.

Today, I listened to my teacher talk about Fear as a Pathway to Loving Presence. Through this teaching, I understand that a fearless heart is not a heart without fear, but a heart that remains open and spacious even in the face of it and that darkness can be a portal to deep healing. That's right, the darkness that is happening right now may be the very catalyst that moves us into action for change and profound healing in the world.

Dhammaṃ śaraṇaṃ gacchāmi. I take refuge in the Dharma. 

Hope.

Today, I spent time with a friend talking about meditation practice and how it can be both a refuge and a challenge.  We sat together and talked about things we are grateful for in our lives and how even one person’s compassion has the potential to change the hearts and minds far and wide. Community…connection…

Saṃghaṃ śaraṇaṃ gacchāmi. I take refuge in the Sangha. 

Belonging.

May all beings everywhere find a place of refuge…

May all beings come to understand that we are all one…

May all beings feel valued and safe….

May the world know peace…may we know peace

May all beings everywhere awaken and be free.