Although meditation and mindfulness practices are often seen as solitary pursuits, Mindfulness founding editor Barry Boyce makes a case for why our search for peace and freedom is a group effort.
The principle of Sangha It is especially popular these days for those who are engaged in some meditation practice. Although it originates in Buddhism, it can be a helpful principle for all of us to further understand in a world that is increasingly creating more and more zones of isolation. This term is usually translated as communityand the companionship aspect of the sangha is certainly an important factor for any of us who choose to gain insight through the practice of mindfulness meditation.
Achieving freedom and peace is also a group effort, not just an agonizing individual struggle.
When the thought process is reduced to a purely solitary pursuit, it is easy to over-personalize our struggles and dramas. Companions help us realize that we are all in this together. Achieving freedom and peace is also a group effort, not just an agonizing individual struggle.
The Sangha principle, though, goes beyond camaraderie and mutual aid. It encourages us to help each other in ways that push us beyond our frame of constant curiosity about others, so that we can accommodate them and feel a sense of belonging, as well as challenging them when they may push beyond the limits they may impose on themselves.
We all appreciate being accommodated by others, feeling included, respected, understood, cared for. Adjusting to others, though, requires taking the time to get to know who they are. I know, for example, several people who have lost children early in life – to disease, overdoses, fatal accidents. It is common for them to find themselves in social situations where people spend a lot of time talking about their children’s achievements. It can be isolating and painful to compete with. In the same vein, social media braggadocio, aka “self-branding,” can be just as deliberate.
Adjusting involves appreciating other people’s boundaries and leaning into them. I know someone with arthritis who finds it difficult to walk on uneven ground. After all, friends constantly insist that my friend walk with them on the beach. What they enjoy is the joy of a time that has turned out to be amazing. But how could they know?
True communication with others through curiosity begins with deep listening. Beyond just listening to what people are saying, it’s really getting to know them, which takes time and effort. In this way people become part of a real Sangha that lives like them, with all their limitations.
Genuine criticism, which is important in many areas of life, is best delivered with compassion and a willingness to acknowledge your point of view is a strong incentive to truly help.
Really getting to know people as whole people allows us to open ourselves up to what they can see about us that we can’t easily see, and we can do the same for them. When we challenge someone’s perceived weaknesses or faults, we have to dig deep to find out why we’re doing it and see if there really is an opening. Giving “opinion” can be dangerous. A friend of mine calls it a “feed bag” because the person who gives it can often feel overwhelmed and overwhelmed by the power of their words.
Genuine criticism, which is important in many areas of life, is best delivered with compassion and a willingness to acknowledge your point of view is a strong incentive to truly help. When it’s taken care of, though, it can make a big difference. And in the absence of critique, we all risk losing the benefit of engaging with diverse perspectives.
We humans have a great affinity for forming groups, and Sanghas can easily slip into this. They can be kissy, clubby, and even plural. ick. This is sure to happen when newcomers have to break through a wall of codes and jargon to make sense of it. Naturally, there is language specific to a group. But all we do is by listening to people first, and talking to each other, forcing someone to become a social safecracker that they can enter into society.
When a community becomes a sangha — a group of people completely devoted to mutual well-being — it is a beautiful thing. A true sangha is not fixed. It is an ecosystem whose inherent strength comes from its ability to accommodate new blood that will change its color. This is what we call progress.
