Into your discomfort zone

The Dalai Lama had a warm and contagious laugh that spliced all 10,000
of us that attended his talk at the beginning of Louisville’s
Kentucky-fried summer. He was cloaked in eloquence and was
effortlessly collected, humorous, and brilliant. The ceremony was held
to celebrate the inauguration of a Buddhist temple in town by
convocating religious leaders from Islamic, Christian, Jewish and
Hindu affiliations to speak about compassion through the lenses of
their respective faiths. As if the Dalai Lama had scripted it all
himself, one-by-one, each leader stood up and spoke with the same
grace that I’m sure they convey when hosting temple, mass, or any
call to prayer in their own communities about a singular commonality
that transcends religion. Compassion is how it’s referred to in
English, though as an aside, I would have loved to be able to
understand the Dalai Lama and all of the guest presenters in their
mother tongues. We’re all just interpreting everything anyways, mostly
falling short. Compasión. That port inside all of us that harbors
empathy and a general concern for the well-being of others; the
maternal instinct to provide care, the shoulder, forgiveness. Not just
human well-being, but that of all those who share ‘being’ with us.
Well-being’s well-being, too.

We care, or at least we did. We were born and raised with it and then,
as with creativity, we are prone to losing it as an adult. Maybe we
don’t lose it. Maybe it just gets burried under our own agendas and
self-fulfillment strategies that we care more about. We knock off the
first three letters of the word as we enter adulthood and squeeze in the walls of
our communities snugly so we feel comfortable. Then we find these
magnanimous ways to compensate for our selfishness and refute our
guilt, like joining the Peace Corps, running a marathon or donating a
million dollars.

The truth is that we don’t have to reach very far. Even introducing ourselves to everyone in arms-reach at the auditorium (as per his Holiness’ request) was discomforting and challenging for some of us (adults). What’s happened? I can imagine that His Holiness felt a bit out of his comfort zone in Louisville, with all due respect. It’s not about getting out of your comfort zone, it’s about getting into you discomfort zone and finding comfort there. We all know where that place is. Get into it…

Peppered with a sprinkle or two of placebo, by the end of the program
you could sense that something had changed. The messages about
compassion resonated and were resounding. People walked out of their
sections in the upper bleachers or from the lower level glowing. There
was something very noninvasive about the whole experience. You couldn’t deny that. Enjoying eye-contact with nearly everyone I passed as I
walked towards the exit, I wondered how long it would take for me and
everyone else to let our ears pop. How long would we surf this buzz
before we got back to paddling out to sea? I tried to share that
sensation and some of the message with family and some friends,
however I ended up having to keep the best part for myself. You know
which part I’m talking about. We all do.