Blame No One

In November, 2011, Amma came to visit the US.  She comes every November and just makes a couple stops (not like her huge summer tour), but as 9/11 had just happened, we weren’t sure she would be able to come.  But she did.  During the retreat’s Q&A, I think someone asked about the situation and she said, among other things, “Blame no one.”  I have remembered that sentence clearly ever since.  Blame no one.

At 6pm this past Sunday, I was standing at the Snohomish Little League field.  It took me an hour to get there (including the time I spent lost) and, much to my dismay, when I looked around, I saw no purple uniforms anywhere.  Which means my nephew’s all-star team wasn’t there.  I called my mom only to find out not only was at this field at the wrong time, I had missed another game that was actually closer to home.  There was a wave of sadness followed by a wave of anger.  I was very frustrated.  But somehow, I didn’t go to blame.  I didn’t blame my mom, myself or anybody else.

I could see quite clearly what my part in it was.  I had completely misinterpreted the text message my mom had sent by making assumptions and I didn’t reply.  In that moment, I saw how I often don’t respond to others’ communications in a timely way or at all and how that causes difficulty (always easier to see when it causes difficulty for me).  But it didn’t need to be my “fault.” 

There is a difference between blame and responsibility.  Not blaming doesn’t eliminate responsibility; it’s just that there are usually so many factors involved in any one thing happening that it just doesn’t really make sense for it to be all somebody’s fault.  It makes it seems like we have more control than we do.  But I can see my part—I can see how I contributed.  And in a weird way, that actually feels good (as opposed to blame, which pretty much always feels bad).  When something happens and I ask “What’s my part in this?” I can learn something.  So not blaming seems like one of the many ways to practice ahimsa (non-violence), which allows us to practice svadhyaya (self-study) because it is so much easier to look at myself when I'm not going to get hit with blame, shame and judgment.

Delusional

Sometimes I can hardly bear being at the gym.  There are lots of things there that might cause this reaction, but the thing that drives me nuts is seeing all the crazy things people do thinking that they are getting a better workout.  Putting extra weight on the machine, more resistance on the stairmaster, more incline on the treadmill, then contorting themselves into weird positions to make it work.  It just seems delusional.  And, sadly, it seems so darn representative of the general delusional nature of our society—just a giant disconnect in the quest for results.

So the question this brings up for me is “where am I delusional?”  I too have blindspots where I am contorting myself into false realities—where are they?  When I start looking, I feel like I see them everywhere.  Virtually all the time, I am thinking that something should be different than it is.  It is quite incredible how little time I spend in the reality of the present moment.  I should be happier, I should have more clients, I should write more, my marriage should be different, I should wake up earlier, I should have gone for a bike ride instead of coming to the gym.  This is delusion—I just looked it up in the dictionary.  Delude means to deceive the mind.  Delusion means a false belief or opinion.  Since the Buddha and the ancient yogis talk about delusion, we can know that it something that we humans do, but it does seem like perhaps Americans have taken it to a whole new level (watch the movie Inside Job about the 2008 financial fiasco if you’re not sure).

I do like having a visual though.  When I catch myself shoulding, I can picture those folks at the gym and remember how ridiculous it is to deny reality.