Be Nobody (23 page)

But if we examine the notion of “compassion fatigue” from the karmic point of view, it turns out to be an oxymoron. One of the invariable principles of karma is that nothing bad can come from something good. Assuming that “fatigue” is not a welcome feeling, and that “compassion” is indeed a virtuous state of mind, the former cannot actually derive from the latter.

Any “fatigue” we experience when engaged in helping others comes from self-concern, not from self-forgetfulness. Once we have truly lost ourselves in service to others, we tap into a source of energy and strength far beyond what the “somebody self” is capable of. Like the mother who lifts the car under which her child is trapped, when we give ourselves over completely to others we gain access to a tremendous reservoir of power—the power that comes from
being nobody
.

It is not often, however, that we are able to be so completely self-effacing in our relationships. The demands of the hungry ego are very, very compelling. It is an extremely self-assured, self-confident person who can summon the courage and daring to willfully and completely set aside the imperatives of the “somebody self.”

In the next chapter we'll discuss the nature of selfless action—activity that encompasses a kind of relaxed presence and playfulness quite different from what we think of as “work.” If we experience “fatigue” or “burnout” from our compassionate actions toward others, it ceases to be truly compassionate and truly selfless. It's no longer a choice but a chore.

And so, with the understanding that it's not the compassion that fatigues you, when you feel the need, you must rest. When your charitable service to others threatens to subvert the virtuous inclination that led to it, it's time to take a break . . . before
you
break! Go ahead and grab some “me time” so that you can return later, refreshed, to the aid of those who need you.

Many of the world's religions share the tradition of regularly observing holidays (“holy days”) in order to rest and revitalize. In the Western religions, this is the purpose of the “Sabbath,” one day of vacation every week. And in the Eastern traditions, we find similar injunctions to nurture and protect our altruistic inclinations from burnout. Here's one such admonition:

The forces for helping us accomplish the goals of other living beings are willpower, steadfastness, joy, and taking a break when needed.
⁹

The text lays out the “forces” that keep us going even when the temptations to quit are great. Willpower—the determination to overcome the stifling limitations of selfish egoism by “finding someone to love.” Steadfastness—sticking with our resolution to pursue our
enlightened
self-interest through cultivating empathetic love and altruistic behavior. Joy—being happy to have the opportunity to create the causes for our own true happiness by promoting the welfare of others.

Finally, “taking a break.” The word I've translated as “taking a break” is
mukti
, which means “freedom, release, deliverance from”—here in the sense of “leaving off” or “releasing” oneself from the task. This means taking a holiday—or at least some “down time”—in order to safeguard our charitable, altruistic inclinations from the self-preoccupation that can undermine them, and to restore ourselves such that we can think more clearly about the value of service to others.

Losing the self in service to others is a time-honored spiritual method for overcoming our innate egoism. An opposing inborn predisposition is called up: the desire to connect and identify with other people and rise above and beyond the arbitrary limitations through which we imprison ourselves.

It is because of the fact of interdependence, the truth that we are inextricably bound to others, that we can acknowledge and make use of interdependence to improve the quality of the relationships that,
in their turn, define us. One of the two formulas of transformation is employed—
change the world, change you
, the twin of the equally potent recipe:
change you, change the world
—and we work the magic.

We think about others with the empathy that evolves from an assumption of basic equality. We wish that others be free from suffering and that they find happiness, just as we wish it for ourselves; and we interact with others with that kind of intention rather than with the more egoistic and injurious desires our mental afflictions motivate. And we also recognize that others, like us, are fallible and don't always live up to their highest ideals—an exercise in empathy that invokes in us compassion rather than anger or judgment, forgiveness rather than resentment and a thirst for revenge.

Overcoming our preoccupation with the self and its perverse misunderstanding of “love,” we realize that our love
for
another is the karmic cause of feeling loved
by
another—for what goes around
will
come around. And we are wise enough to understand that empathy sometimes requires tough love and tough choices toward others (to avoid the “doormat syndrome”) and the careful preservation and maintenance of our own efforts (to avoid associating “compassion” with “fatigue”).

In the next chapter, we will see how our activities in general can be pursued more selflessly—and joyously! Losing the self in the ongoing flow of life itself—in our solitude as well as in our interactions with others—provides us with another opportunity to
be nobody
in our everyday lives.

But let's conclude here with what has been called the greatest secret, the most esoteric and powerful practice, when it comes to our relationships with others:

Hear once more My highest words, the most secret of all, for you are surely dear to Me so I will tell you for your own good. Keep your
mind on Me, be devoted to Me, sacrifice to Me, prostrate to Me. I promise that you will come to Me, for you are dear to Me.
¹⁰

These verses are from one of the world's religious classics, the Bhagavad Gita. Krishna is speaking to his friend and student Arjuna at the very end of the long dialogue that comprises the text. At one level, the “highest words, the most secret of all,” that Krishna communicates relate to the transcendence of the lower self and the realization of the Divine, the Great Unity that lies beneath all diversity that is the ultimate experience of
being nobody
.

But another dimension of Krishna's supreme teaching offers us a formidable strategy when dealing with others. It is one that we all can utilize in order to improve—
radically
improve—our relationships. In the Eastern traditions, this practice is called “guru yoga”—seeing another person as a divine manifestation in your life, an emissary sent from HQ and assigned specifically to your case.

There's a lot of misunderstanding about the nature and function of the “guru”—the Sanskrit term for the spiritual teacher—so it is important to be clear about what this practice really entails before we can benefit from it.

First of all, a guru is not essentially or objectively a guru, any more than the aggravating person is. A guru
becomes
a guru when a student voluntarily enters into this special relationship with him or her—and not until. The guru-disciple bond, like all other relationships, functions interdependently: for the guru to act as a guru, he or she must have a student; and for a student to be a student, he or she must have a teacher.

A second important point about the guru follows from the first.
Your guru could literally be anyone
. There's no factory that produces gurus, and there's no “Gurus R Us” website from which you could order yours. The guru comes into being
when we designate someone
to act in that capacity for us
. And in a sense, that choice is arbitrary. Your guru could be a minister, rabbi, priest, imam, monk, or nun; but he or she could also be your wife or husband, boyfriend or girlfriend, son or daughter, father or mother, friend or relative—or even (maybe especially!) whoever that aggravating person is in your life.

And so it is that we can put into practice this most esoteric, secret technique for making our relationships extraordinary. We begin with the admission that we really don't know who other people are. We know how they
appear
to us, but we also acknowledge that
we don't see others as they are, but rather as we are
.

And who we are is a complex bundle of possibilities. We alternate, even moment to moment, among a vast array of potential identities. We stick our faces into all kinds of carnival cutouts, and as we've observed in this chapter, we also define ourselves through our relationships with others.

The core of guru yoga involves
intentionally deciding to see another as the reflection of our Highest Self
. “I am seated in the hearts of everyone,” says Krishna.
¹¹
God is within us as well as without, a notion that is common to many of the world's spiritual traditions, especially in their more mystical strands.

And so guru yoga can be understood as a mechanism for using another person as a mirror for catching a glimpse of what is best in us. By tapping into the truth of interdependence, we connect with our innate divinity by working to see the divine in another. Perceive it without, and you will recognize it within.

But now for a third crucial observation about guru yoga: Constituting someone as your guru does not mean that everything they say or do will automatically be “good” or “right,” and that the student's job is just to agree and obey. This is a dangerous misunderstanding of the practice and has gotten a lot of people into a lot of trouble!

The essence of guru yoga is to be constantly learning; the guru is the teacher and teachings can come in many forms. Sometimes teachings are easy, but sometimes they're hard. Sometimes teachings make us feel better about ourselves, but perhaps the most beneficial lessons are those that challenge us to look at what we need to change. Sometimes teachings make it easy for us to like the teacher, but sometimes they are presented in the form of a negative exposure—cautionary examples about what we need to avoid in our own lives. There are even instances when the teaching the guru gives is that it's time to find someone else to fulfill that function—a lesson in detachment that can be particularly hard.

But in every case, a teacher can only teach if a student learns. The proper practice of guru yoga always requires the student to take personal responsibility for the relationship and to think for him- or herself. One reflects on whatever the guru says or does and struggles to come to his or her own determination:

What am I to learn from this?

•  •  •

Some of us may choose to formally enter into a relationship with an “official” guru—someone who represents a spiritual lineage and teaches us what has been handed down in a particular tradition. But all of us have the opportunity to avail ourselves of the power inherent in the practice of guru yoga. Whether one works with an “authorized” spiritual teacher or chooses to remain a “none,” guru yoga is the most efficacious way to transform our relationships and make quick progress in our spiritual journey.

We often have this somewhat naïve notion that a
real
spiritual teacher should look and act in a particular way. They should,
perhaps, wear certain clothing, adorn themselves with religious artifacts, or have a distinctive hairstyle (or lack thereof). They should, we might think, be capable of miracles, or at least have all kinds of charisma and charm. They should, we may assume, have some sort of signature “spiritual” demeanor, only speak softly and significantly, and (here's what we really hope!) always be nice to us.

But with the understanding that the guru could be anyone, what if we decided to bring the personage who occupies that special role for us a little closer to home? What if we took the guru off the pedestal and put him or her inside our living room? What if we tried to imagine that a divine being had moved in with us in order to help us improve ourselves?

What if God were one of us, trying to help us see the divine that is in all of us?

Here's the way it works—and kids, do try this at home! Just make a decision that from now on someone in your life will serve as your guru. Just decide that your husband or wife, your flatmate, your son or daughter, your best friend, or even a very difficult person with whom you have a close relationship will function in this special way for you. From now on, you assume that this person is a divine being, working undercover (sometimes it will seem that they are
deeply
undercover!), trying to help you.

From now on, everything this newly appointed guru says or does
will be interpreted as a teaching meant especially for you
.

And then let the games begin! Occasionally things will indeed seem magical. Words and actions that you once paid little or no attention to will take on deep meaning. The relationship will assume the enchanted quality of our dreams:

Wow! I can't believe what she just said to me! Amazing!

But far more often, the practice will be a lot more challenging:

Why did he leave his dirty underwear on the floor?

Why did she forget my birthday?

And why oh why did my guru just insult me?

In fact, it probably won't be but a few minutes into this practice that your newly appointed guru will do and say what will seem to be very “un-guru-like” things!

Then it's up to you to think, “What's the lesson here? What is this divine being trying to teach me?” Maybe it's to be more like him or her, to imitate the positive qualities you have become keenly aware of while engaging in this practice of seeing the other as divine. But maybe it's to learn patience from a teacher posing as an irritating person; to learn to be more thoughtful of others as the teacher displays what it looks like to be selfish; to be careful that you're not doing to others what the teacher is now doing to you.