posted 8 Apr 2012, 23:16 by Akasharaja Bruton [ updated 8 Apr 2012, 23:20 ]
I recently had to deal with some disturbing news: one of the translation agencies I work for gave me some negative feedback about my work and announced a scaling-back, for the time being at least, of the type and amount of work I can do for them. The e-mail came on a Friday afternoon, which rather put a damper on my weekend!
This wasn’t very nice, as anyone who has been criticised will know! But, as I reflected on the implications of the news, I came to realise that, oddly enough, my discomfort wasn’t so much about the possible loss of livelihood. No, what caused me pain was much more the challenge this presented to my self-view. Bear with me, and I’ll explain.
Buddhism tells us that all unenlightened people are subject to suffering in various forms. This isn’t of course to say that we suffer all the time – life for most of us is a mix of pleasurable and painful experience - but what it does mean is that a thread of suffering is woven right through the tapestry of individual lives: bodily pain, the loss of a relationship, fear of future unhappiness and a basic sense of lack are all forms of suffering that we will all encounter at some time or other. The tradition goes on to say that all emotional and mental suffering is due to our inability to see that everything is subject to change and nothing mundane can be relied on to make us happy. This goes in particular for our own individual self, which is no more than an ever-changing flux of passing physical, emotional and mental events which arise and pass away. But we believe that this self is somehow fixed and unchanging, fundamentally separate from the world around it – and the only way to bridge the gap - to be happy - is through things like material possessions, relationships, membership of groups of one kind or another - and status. And when they let us down - which they inevitably do - we suffer.
Which brings us back to my uncomfortable experience. As I discovered so painfully, my sense of identity revolves, among other things, around status: around the fact that I am a capable, professional translator, good with words, with a shrewd understanding of how language works. But to be told out of the blue that I might not be as capable and professional as I thought delivered a stiff challenge to this sense of self, and I was able to observe how my ego started thrashing about like a landed fish trying to hold on to certainty – they must be wrong, I must defend myself, how dare they…? This was very painful. Yet, objectively speaking, the facts were simple: if they were wrong, and I was as good as I thought I was, then there was no problem. If I wasn’t, I could learn from the experience and improve – again, no problem. Being criticised didn’t suddenly make me a bad or worthless person. But because this sense of self is so strong – and we invest so much in defending it – it was very difficult to be rational.
What I tried to do was observe the suffering brought about by the gyrations of my mind and see that the cause of my own suffering was – and is - my fixed sense of self. Not easy, but it kept things in perspective. Freedom from suffering isn’t to be found in blaming others for our unhappiness. The only way to be free is to see your habit patterns, acknowledge their hold on you, and work, time and again, on letting go of them.
So, the next time someone criticises you, consider this: either they have a point, which will provide an opportunity for you to grow and develop, or they don’t, so why get upset about it?
I recently had to deal with some disturbing news: one of the translation agencies I work for gave me some negative feedback about my work and announced a scaling-back, for the time being at least, of the type and amount of work I can do for them. The e-mail came on a Friday afternoon, which rather put a damper on my weekend!
This wasn’t very nice, as anyone who has been criticised will know! But, as I reflected on the implications of the news, I came to realise that, oddly enough, my discomfort wasn’t so much about the possible loss of livelihood. No, what caused me pain was much more the challenge this presented to my self-view. Bear with me, and I’ll explain.
Buddhism tells us that all unenlightened people are subject to suffering in various forms. This isn’t of course to say that we suffer all the time – life for most of us is a mix of pleasurable and painful experience - but what it does mean is that a thread of suffering is woven right through the tapestry of individual lives: bodily pain, the loss of a relationship, fear of future unhappiness and a basic sense of lack are all forms of suffering that we will all encounter at some time or other. The tradition goes on to say that all emotional and mental suffering is due to our inability to see that everything is subject to change and nothing mundane can be relied on to make us happy. This goes in particular for our own individual self, which is no more than an ever-changing flux of passing physical, emotional and mental events which arise and pass away. But we believe that this self is somehow fixed and unchanging, fundamentally separate from the world around it – and the only way to bridge the gap - to be happy - is through things like material possessions, relationships, membership of groups of one kind or another - and status. And when they let us down - which they inevitably do - we suffer.
Which brings us back to my uncomfortable experience. As I discovered so painfully, my sense of identity revolves, among other things, around status: around the fact that I am a capable, professional translator, good with words, with a shrewd understanding of how language works. But to be told out of the blue that I might not be as capable and professional as I thought delivered a stiff challenge to this sense of self, and I was able to observe how my ego started thrashing about like a landed fish trying to hold on to certainty – they must be wrong, I must defend myself, how dare they…? This was very painful. Yet, objectively speaking, the facts were simple: if they were wrong, and I was as good as I thought I was, then there was no problem. If I wasn’t, I could learn from the experience and improve – again, no problem. Being criticised didn’t suddenly make me a bad or worthless person. But because this sense of self is so strong – and we invest so much in defending it – it was very difficult to be rational.
What I tried to do was observe the suffering brought about by the gyrations of my mind and see that the cause of my own suffering was – and is - my fixed sense of self. Not easy, but it kept things in perspective. Freedom from suffering isn’t to be found in blaming others for our unhappiness. The only way to be free is to see your habit patterns, acknowledge their hold on you, and work, time and again, on letting go of them.
So, the next time someone criticises you, consider this: either they have a point, which will provide an opportunity for you to grow and develop, or they don’t, so why get upset about it?