My son, Jahnu, was eight years old, in third grade. We were in the car together and he was obviously in deep thought. I knew he had experienced a hassle at school. I waited and, sure enough, he opened up and told me he had something on his mind.
“Dad,” he asked, “you seem like you’re cool most of the time. How do you do it?”
I wanted to give him an honest answer, and I also wanted to play a bit so he might truly be receptive what I was going to say. I responded, “Well, I could tell you but you won’t like it.”
“I want to hear it, Dad, tell me,” he said.
I replied, “Nah, really, you won’t want this.”
“Yeah, I do. Tell me.” said Jahnu, more emphatically.
“I’d be happy to, but you won’t appreciate it.”
“Daaaaddd, c’mon. Tell me!”
“OK,” I said. “Here it is: forgiveness.”
Jahnu grew quiet for a few moments and then, bless his innocent and honest heart, he exclaimed, and this is an exact quote: “I don’t want forgiveness. I want revenge.”
This fairly well sums up the predicament all of us face. Few of us, though, are as honest or aware of the stark nature of the choice. We want the felicity that comes with forgiveness, but we demand it come through revenge. We want happiness, as long as it arrives packaged on our terms. Interestingly, our terms often take us in the opposite direction of what we claim we want.
Revenge seems like a reasonable response to the inequities we face in the world at the hands of others. We desire for them to suffer as they have caused us to hurt. Justice, as the mundane world defines it, means wishing that those who cause pain have it returned to them.
Although the majority hold this attitude, it is not universal. Nor is it effective. Nor does it bring about real justice. Nor healing, peace, or joy. The toxicity of resentment is a poison that must be ingested before it can be spat onto another.
Here in Vermont, you can always tell a farmer after they’ve been in the dairy barn. They smell like the barn and everything that came out of the cow. It’s just the price of doing business. Same with anger, no matter how supposedly righteous. You come away smelling like the emotional environment you’ve been in, not so great. It’s the price of doing business in the anger barn.
Please understand I recognize that bad things happen to people. We’ve all been hurt, and we’ve all done hurtful things. I am also not proposing how we might reform the judicial system or anything like that. What I am doing is setting forth some ideas based on teachings from the yoga tradition that will nurture inner peace and sanity, regardless of social constructs or circumstances.
Through honest introspection, it becomes apparent we are lugging around a sack of grievances that weigh us down. How to drop the sack of grievances? This is going to sound simple, and it is, but for some reason it doesn’t seem easy. The way to drop something is, well, let it go. It doesn’t matter how heavy the luggage seems, just release your grip. It doesn’t matter how long you’ve been dragging it around, set it free.
The sages say that no matter how long the room has been dark, as soon as you flick on the light switch, the darkness is gone. They actually said to light a candle, but you get the idea. There’s even a yogic story about someone asking the Sun, “What can I do about darkness?” The Sun answered, “What is darkness?”
There’s a notion circulating that we are living in unprecedented times because of a new virus. No, these are the same old times, and we are dealing with the same old problems. Sometimes these things just manifest in a collective or more pronounced form. Illness and death have been with human beings for all time, and they will be with us for all time. The honest, humble acceptance of this reality provides a perspective that ensures this one, little life will be experienced in its full, poignant, paradoxically significant, precious, and worthwhile measure.
What need not be with us for all time is fear, guilt, and shame. These viruses of consciousness are horribly contagious. The upaya, the skillful means, for dealing with these afflictions are compassion and a gentle sense of humor. In this way, your psychic immune system becomes healthy and vital enough that you don’t catch the bug. Additionally, the agitations of others won’t “bug” you.
To be healthy and free is the best service you can do for others. You become an island of sanity in a stormy ocean of fear. Not only will your life be charmed, but you’ll be someone that others can come to for support during their difficulties. Love and peace and joy are also contagious, and no vaccine in the world can stop their spread. But they are not powerful in the worldly sense because they cannot be forced, enforced, bought, or sold. They must be accepted.
The yogic sages have promised us that if we follow the spiritual path we will enjoy the four great boons: health, prosperity, harmony, and freedom. The gazillion-dollar question is: What is this path? It’s a crucial question that every sensitive person asks in some form during their lifetime. Difficulties arise, however, because we have a pre-determined idea of what the answer should be.
Our self-confirming answers include the value of anxiety, outrage, penance, and misperceiving the motivations of others. The yogic path isn’t a matter of attaining new treasures, it’s about recognizing the myriad ways we resist the ever-available divine riches and hang onto our fear-based tendencies. Buddha said we cling to the wheel of suffering from bloody hands and then complain we can’t get free.
The skillful means of yoga are designed to help us confront our own self-defeating desires and tendencies. It takes tremendous integrity to sit and look at our own foolishness, but the only way out is through. There is no magic pill. The hippies and pharmaceutical companies have proven this by now. Spiritual growth is a process that must be undertaken on your own two wings. The weeds in your consciousness must be plucked so the fertile garden of your heart has space for the flowers of the best version of you to blossom.
The way to receive the four great gifts is to open your hands and accept them graciously. Everyone will have their own unique experience of this, but the sense of abounding grace is quite universal. As a child at his birthday party, be happy for the gifts you have already received, and politely say “thank you.” Being grateful for what you presently have is like picking up the breadcrumb under your feet. You will become aware there are more crumbs in front of you on your path. Pick them up one-at-a-time, and go forth innocently into your life.
When I was a kid, I heard about this yoga thing. I decided I would perform an experiment to determine for myself if what the yogis teach is real, or not. I performed my spiritual practices and have concluded they are telling the truth. This stuff works! And to my delight, I have found I don’t need to be anywhere near perfect to enjoy the rewards of yoga. As a yoga teacher, the best teaching I can offer is to model. In my case, the teaching is basically, “If a knucklehead like Prem Prakash can do this, so can you.”
When a child believes something silly, we smile and say, “He’s just a kid.” When we believe something silly, the yogis smile and say, “He’s in need of healing.” In this divine world, there is no punishment, no retribution, no tribunal, no pound of flesh to be paid. There is a gentle correction of errors. Pure and simple, nothing more.
There is no onus on you to leave the world of revenge for the world of forgiveness. No one will force you. There is no demand. No yogi will put a gun to your head. We will, though, encourage you to at least consider coming into our world. We love you, and we hate seeing you suffer. We miss having you dance with us.
I propose this is an ideal time to commit yourself to your spiritual life. If you are on a disappointing and frustrating course, make a change. Quarantine yourself from fear, social distance from guilt, wash your hands of the burden of unresolved grievances, and at least experiment with dropping the desire for revenge. See for yourself — the yogis are laying it out: the desire for revenge is a never-ending hassle. Forgiveness will bring you peace, and the kids just might think you are cool.
