follow in my teacher’s footsteps. I had always carried a certain awe that he got to bodyguard for the Dalai Lama, a man I considered one of the greatest spiritual leaders of our time. The adventure, the behind-the-scenes access, and the secret agent power of such a role was a fantasy right out of a movie, and I thought I would never get to have that experience. Suddenly the opportunity had come to me, and I wanted to live a piece of my teacher’s story.
Of course, he knew that. Before I could say anything, he continued. “You can’t live Stephen Hayes’ life. I was the only one who could live the life of Stephen Hayes. Many people try to go back and do what I did, but they can’t, because it was a moment in time and space. That moment is gone, replaced with the moment we have now. But you can live your life, and it can be just as big or bigger. So now you have this chance. What are you going to do with it? What does it mean to you?”
His statement was a tremendous gift of acknowledgment and freedom. I was inspired by his life, but I would have to find meaning, contribution, and adventure in my own. I closed my eyes right there at the table and took a deep breath. We had been meditating together for years by now, so he knew what I was doing and I felt comfortable taking a moment.
I tried to clear away all the fantasies and hopes and focus on what felt important about this chance to provide security for the 17th Karmapa. I felt a real connection to Tibetan Buddhism, based on my studies with An-Shu Hayes and the vows I had taken in that lineage. Deep down, it wasn’t the celebrity of the Karmapa that was important to me. I knew that I could make a difference in bringing our spiritually-intelligent martial tradition to the scene of His Holiness’ teachings. I knew that the world would be a better place if I got involved, because I had the advanced dignitary protection training and real-life experience from my teacher backing me up.
I opened my eyes and found that his eyes were opening at the same moment, seamlessly emerging from meditation with me. “I want to do it because I can make it a better experience for everyone. The Karmapa will teach more easily, the people will learn more easily, and if there are troublemakers, they will be dealt with both more effectively and more compassionately if I am leading the team.”
Though I was certain of my answer, I enjoyed the validation of the warm smile that spread across his face. “That‘s right. That’s the motivation that can hold fast. Maybe you can do it.”
CHAPTER 5
Mental Strength
Hombu Dojo, Dayton, OH, 2002: “The mind is very responsive to what it perceives,” An-Shu told us. “In fact, that’s its job, to respond to and make sense of your perceptions.”
I remembered detailed studies we had done in the past on how the mind analyzes perceptions and experiences, creating an inner truth to interpret the world.
“One of the things your mind experiences is what comes out of your own mouth,” An-Shu continued. “Think about what you say. What worldview does it reinforce?”
“That reminds me of a child who says ‘I can’t’ and proves it true,” I commented.
“Yes,” said An-Shu, “and when that child turns into an adult, sometimes the story doesn’t change. The language may get more complex, but after all the tales of flat tires, dogs that ran away, and factory layoffs, it comes down to the same thing. By focusing on the problems of life, a grown adult can convince themselves of their own inability.”
“But there are real problems in life,” said another student in the group. “If I lose my job, there are real consequences that may interfere with my ability to do certain things.”
“Absolutely!” said the An-Shu. “That is so important to acknowledge. By changing our language, we are not denying cause and effect. We are not pretending that nothing is wrong or that we are unaffected by change. That would be stupid. But there is a difference in how you phrase it.”
He changed his voice into a whiny, apologetic character. “See, I lost my job at the factory, and now my ex-wife took all my money in the divorce, and I can’t find no work ‘cause my back is out…” Several of us smiled at the incongruity of this powerful man taking on the posture and voice of a person struggling with life. We definitely recognized the archetype.
He took on his normal posture and voice again. “Or how about this? I’m searching for work and building my health right now, so I need to delay any major expenditure until I establish my employment. Same core content, but radically different message.”
The contrast between the two characters he portrayed was shocking to me. Many times when encountering a person struggling with life, their condition seemed so objectively true. Their slumped posture and sad voice seemed like the only possibility for that person. I could imagine change over time, of course, but it seemed like it would take years. The An-Shu’s rapid shift between the two characters made it clear to me that there was nothing physically stopping a person from dropping their defeat in a single instant. They would still have their troubles and ailments, but the defeat could fall away with a mental shift.
Of course, I recognized that the mental shift would be profound, and that may take years if a person is not already a master of their mind.
“An-Shu,” I asked, “is there anything we can do to break through the habits of how we describe our lives?”
“There are several things you can do. The first is to become aware of what your habits are. How many of you would agree that you listen to what you would call unhappy or sad music?” Several hands went up. “Okay, so given that, how many of you like being sad?”
No one put their hand up, but there was a hesitation in the room.
“When I’m sad, I like listening to sad music,” said one person.
“Why do you think that is?” An-Shu Hayes asked.
“Well… it feels good to sort of indulge the feeling, I guess.”
“I think that’s true,” he replied, “and that’s why some people spend time reinforcing a feeling that they don’t really want.”
I thought about my own tendency to seek out music that reflected my feelings, and then indulge in amplifying those feelings. I recognized a sense of justification in the process. It felt good to validate, celebrate, and intensify whatever I was feeling. An-Shu’s comment raised the question of whether that was strategically intelligent.
An-Shu smiled as we thought it over, and then set us on an exercise to experience our own habitual stories.
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Exercise Four – Noticing Your Story |
Get a trusted training partner who will hear your story and reflect back what they heard. Explain the exercise to your partner before you begin.
Sit down a few feet apart, facing each other. You are going to tell a story about a difficulty you encountered in life. It’s best if it was disruptive but somewhat trivial, on the scale of a flat tire, a missed airplane connection, or an awkward job interview. The point is to find a story where you cared about the results, but it was not deeply traumatic.
You have approximately two minutes to tell the story. Do your best to
