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Where Do We Take Refuge?

kloncke

I’d been working on some posts for today, but right now I think I’d just like to take a moment to acknowledge and honor the pain that a lot of us are feeling as a result of some recent threads here. Now that trigger warnings have been added and the harm has been addressed, maybe we can take some time to heal the suffering, and to take refuge.

“Taking refuge” in dhammic praxis has a specific meaning, and refers to the “Triple Gem”:

>> Buddha – taking inspiration from the qualities of the historical Buddha, and all enlightened teachers;

>> Dhamma – taking inspiration from the teachings of the buddha;

>> Sangha – taking inspiration from a community of dhamma practitioners.

For me, this practice (including mindfulness, everyday compassion, and Vipassana meditation) is kind of the ultimate refuge, that provides a foundation for the way I understand and participate in reality. But as the teachers at East Bay Meditation Center recently reminded me, whether or not we practice dhamma, we all have places and ways we take refuge. Could be taking a walk outside. Having a good cry. Writing in a journal. Practicing some yoga. Wilin’ out on our drum kit. Talking to a best friend. Spending time with an animal companion. Singing. Dancing. Praying. Going to therapy. Getting a good night’s sleep. Closing our eyes and breathing for one whole minute. Bringing awareness to what’s going on in our body.

Hopefully, our refuge will not be a means of escaping our suffering, but of engaging it from a different angle, which aids the process of letting go. Sue Nhim described this release beautifully just today on an earlier thread here:

this states so clearly what I have been feeling for the past few months, where before I denied that harm was done to me and yet I suffered, and then I accepted that I was harmed and still suffered, and now I understand that just because I was harmed/ damaged doesn’t mean that I have to suffer and hold on to my anxiety and anger, I can just let that go. It doesn’t negate the fact that I was harmed or mean that I should just ignore it, but it happened and what I can do to win is to not suffer and go on, wiser happier better. My mom calls it a state of grace, all I know is that it doesn’t hurt to go outside anymore.

So where do you take refuge? What are your best tools for letting go of suffering?

Wishing wellness to everyone,

katie

18 thoughts on Where Do We Take Refuge?

  1. I take refuge in mundane routine, or rather, the routine that becomes ritual: walking the same route in the park with my dog; making a pot of French press coffee (slow-coffee movement for me); reading an article or two a day that has nothing to do with my work; texting friends when I think of them; writing one long email every Sunday; and for today (although this isn’t a daily routine, and it won’t jive with everyone), bathing my dog, which necessitates the ritual of setting up the bath, giving the bath, drying the dog, and cleaning the bathroom after the bath. Thank goodness for a livelihood that allows me to do all these things–a precious gift, for sure.

  2. I read and comment on blogs.
    When blogs get too much for me, I read fanfic.
    When the world of fanfic gets too much for me, I make bread.
    Making bread never stales.

    I’m being fliply serious, if that makes sense.

  3. I have a lot of different ways to channel my hurt in constructive ways. Music is a big one. If I can lose myself in my guitar playing and my singing, then I know I’ll feel better. Writing usually helps me process and get it all out. I’m the sort of person that can’t keep it all inside. I have to do something to process it and get it out of me so that it won’t torment me.

  4. I spent a 18 months in the desert, completely miserable, tracing the fine line between my mental well-being and the oft tempting psychic break that kept trying to bridge the gap. I can’t even convey how lost I got in my own mind and in my own suffering.

    I am “home” now, settling in, employed again, socializing, etc. The truly rare gift that I was given inside all of my suffering is the ability to find refuge in just listening to (or watching) another human being — seeing their vulnerabilities, their pride, their pitfalls, their glory, etc. It is deeply restive to sense our shared sufferings (perhaps most so because the act of listening heals both parties). My goal in the next 12 months is to find a formal community to nourish my badly scarred psyche (compost it, if you will!) 🙂

  5. I do yoga, go inward, and remember my own spiritual vows and center, and start from there and walk outward again.

  6. I cook or dance. Nothing is more satisfying than being twirled around the dance floor or pounding on chicken breasts for a nice chicken cordon bleu. It reminds me that there are good things in life and that life can be meaningful and fulfilling even on the worst of days

  7. I like to take a moment to really pay attention to Mama Nature and admire her beauty. It could be the trees swaying in the wind, the sound of the birds or tree frogs, or the slow, steady movement of the clouds. It slows me down and reminds that I am really only very small. Life flows on within me and without me, as the Beatles say.

    And, of course, there’s always dancing to reggae music when I just have to get the energy out.

  9. Work (when it’s not being the thing I need refuge from). 🙂 And the hour or so I’m lying in bed before falling asleep or fully waking up, perfectly alone and contemplative. (Admittedly, sometimes I’m just contemplating the hotness of my latest actor crush.) In reasonable doses, being online.

    I appreciate this post and its intention very much. Thank you.

  10. Fanfic or fantasy about fanfic, or fandom roleplaying with a friend over instant messenger, always involving a truly devoted-to-each-other, loving, caring couple, and I’m one or the other of them, or both at once, in my imagining, and giving love and recieving it, and it’s as real as real.

    Driving, petting a cat, getting up close and personal with flowers (my hibiscus plant is the best), or simply curling up on the bed and calling up the feelings from the afore-mentioned imaginings—I am some Transformer or another, nestled in a lover’s arms, loving and loved.

  11. For me, it’s always been my faith; “Let go and let God.” It’s gotten me through some very dark times. “State of grace” is another phrase I’ve heard a lot, and I think that’s a very good way to put it.

  12. One of the things I realized in response to a death in the family is that my doubts and uncertainties are part of what makes me human, and once I realized that, the ability to question and doubt became somewhat liberating.

  13. I go out and look at the flowers in my backyard and do something to take care of them. I exercise. I turn off the computer altogether and read something on paper.

    I like this thread but I wonder if it will grow.

  14. My daily routine (like Lori, sometimes I fall back on just doing the things that must be done in a mindful way that reminds me that life goes on), exercise/the gym (I call the weight room my “iron therapy”…it burns off the irritation and anxiety and leaves tired and more serene), music (like Comrade Kevin, though I have to be careful with this one b/c I find music extremely evocative and have to make sure it doesn’t amplify my emotional overload sometimes), dance (the focus and exertion of dance class is an oasis and being able to physically work out my emotional state is big for me), cooking (I share that with rebekah; the step-by-step assembly of a dessert or dinner is a mindful exercise and I have more equilibrium with a stable blood sugar), reading a good book that transports me, petting a cat or dog. 🙂

  15. People exhaust me. I’m a performer, constantly seeking the validation and entertainment of others, and what I crave most in my daily life is anonymity. When I need to take refuge, I go to church (sit in the back on the far side and talk to no one) or find a very quiet spot full of trees and lacking in people (difficult in Atlanta). I also love to stare at the ocean, but again, difficult in Atlanta. If all that is unavailable, I retreat behind a wall of music, whether in my car or headphones, that becomes the silence I crave. The last bit is destroying my hearing, I’m sure.

  16. I take refuge in music, in reading a good book, drinking something hot and relaxing (coffee, tea, Irish coffee…), sitting in front of the fireplace lazily watching the flames jump, lying on my back watching clouds move across the sky, walking, running, working out on the heavy bag, skimming blogs, sometimes writing, petting my cats (what they think humans exist for), cooking, sitting on my front porch watching the world go by, taking a hot bath, and lately—meditating. I’ve only recently started meditating, and it has made a tremendous difference in my life. Think I’m gonna deepen that practice!

    I did notice with this list, that just about everything on it consists of pointedly getting away from people and grasping some solitude like fresh air….

    Kinda sad that this is the only post on spirituality. Wonder why that is…..

  17. Well, Lubu, you did say that a lot of your work is organizing, which by definition involves managing personalities and interests. And you’re a parent.

    My list tends to shift with my circumstances–right now I’m holed up with artwork, so I need to relax with friends. When my work is more people-oriented, I start fantasizing about therapeutic loneliness.

  18. I take “getting away from” something as a meaning to the word refuge, so maybe that is why most of the posts have been about “getting away from” people. Sometimes I need to take refuge from myself and my own thoughts which can at times be damaging so I need to surround myself with friends. Meditating and chanting are methods that work very well for me but lately I’ve been having trouble turning off my brain.

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