Storm of Uncertainty Brings Flooding Emotions

by Kenn Duncan
A dharma talk given December 3, 2024

As we fast approach the end of yet another year, there is a lot of contentiousness, and division in our world. And along with that, a lot of worry or insecurity about our future, depending on your outlook. Politically, socially, environmentally, many of us find the direction of our world filled with uncertainty.

This storm, this deluge, can flood us with emotions. I have many friends who are questioning everything, and really want to know answers now. It’s said that when asked questions about enlightenment, or what happens after death, or, or, or… Ajahn Chah would smile and say “It’s uncertain, isn’t it?”

I was remembering the uncertainty we all faced just a few years back with the pandemic and how it became an opportunity for us to befriend our fears, be compassionate with them, and radiate this compassion to those around us. And many people did just that, and many of us have this opportunity once more.

We can only work with and make decisions in this moment, only with the information that we know and understand. We have to let go of the worry of what could be or what might happen. The world is changing around us, always has been, always will be and it can be a little scary for us all.

The Taoist Farmer
There was once a farmer in ancient China who owned a horse. “You are so lucky!” his neighbors told him, “to have a horse to pull the cart for you.” “Maybe,” the farmer replied.
One day he didn’t latch the gate properly and the horse ran away. “Oh no! That is terrible news!” his neighbors cried. “Such bad luck!” “Maybe,” the farmer replied.

A few days later the horse returned, bringing with it six wild horses. “How fantastic! You are so lucky,” his neighbors told him. “Maybe,” the farmer replied.

The following week the farmer’s son was breaking-in one of the wild horses when it threw him to the ground, breaking his leg. “Oh no!” the neighbors cried. “Such bad luck, all over again!” “Maybe,” the farmer replied.

The next day soldiers came and took away all the young men to fight in the army. The farmer’s son was left behind. “You are so lucky!” his neighbors cried. “Maybe,” the farmer replied.

When we interpret a situation as an ‘opportunity’ or a ‘disaster’ it shapes the way that we respond. But the farmer knows that we can never truly know how a situation is going to turn out. There are no inherent ‘opportunities’ or ‘threats’ — there is only what actually happens and how we choose to respond.

The Buddha:
"Those who see something to fear where there is nothing to fear, and see nothing to fear where there is something to fear, are upholding false views, they go to states of woe."

How do we recognize and work with our own fears and understand fear in others? Ask ourselves: Where does it arise? What is the sensation when you feel afraid? What kind of thoughts race through your mind when you are fearful? Do you panic? Do you freeze? Do you get really busy and try to fix everything? Do you get angry? At this stage in the path, you try to understand your experience, try to break it down.

To do this, it helps to see things as they arise—before they get blown up and you are caught up in them. If we get to that point it can be much harder to control or work with them. In meditation practice we slow things down, and that allows us to see the subtle arisings. Understanding, examining, knowing, slowing down—those are the first steps in working with fear, or any feelings really, and it’s the beginning of the path to equanimity, calm, peace and compassion.

Fear arises the moment you ask yourself, What is this all about? Many times it has nothing to do with right now. It has to do with the future, but the future doesn’t exist. It hasn’t happened yet. The past doesn’t exist. It has already happened. The only thing you’ve got is what’s right here, right now. And being in the moment makes all the difference in how you deal with fear.

Under normal circumstances fear is not a problem, which is why it’s not listed among the afflictions. Fear is a healthy thing, in general. It is awareness of danger or causing harm.

Reverend Zensho Susan O’Connell:
“…there are some fears that seem wholesome — the fear of hurting others, the fear of death or injury that encourages us to put on our seat belts, etc. — I believe that it is hardly ever helpful to dwell in fear or to spend more that an initial few moments breathing into it. However, to deny all fears is just another way of providing distance from fears. Am I really fearless if I am not intimate with my fear?”

With fear of future uncertainties about work, paying bills, our security, our loved ones' security, our social lives, our beliefs — day and night, people are suffering from immense fear to achieve goals or a level of something grand, or just some sort of certainty.

If the situation can’t be changed, nothing may be done but coming to the present moment to understand the situation mindfully and to face it more positively. This can change our reaction to it.

It’s easy to have faith when things are going well—many people celebrate when they feel things are going their way. When they aren’t, we seem to be less likely to throw a party. Buddhism, however, is not about faith. It is a discipline practiced at all times, regardless of outcome.

We perceive the world to be a certain way. When we find out it is not the way we expect it to be, we suffer. Here’s the challenging part: we think we’re right. We hold our views as divine, and those contradicting us as misguided. When we discover that might not be the case, we have a decision: keep fighting and likely suffer further, or accept and learn.  Now may be a good time to be learning, gathering, reflecting.

Perhaps most importantly in all of this, when you recognize your own suffering you develop empathy toward others. There is a realization that we all suffer. This is easy to forget in a world connected by clicks, trolls, and social media posts. By cultivating an honest relationship with personal suffering, you usually desire to alleviate the pain of others. In these times, this lesson from Buddhism could be very important to practice.

What The Buddha discovered was peace of mind in the midst of chaos. Not an escape. In times of uncertainty and contempt, this path is applicable in the here and now.

It may seem counterintuitive to turn toward pain. Our instincts are to avoid or to run as fast as we can away from it.  But mindfully seeing, acknowledging and accepting these feelings is a start to supporting ourselves with kindness and compassion. Accepting our pain means being willing to be present with it, not pushing it away or reacting to it.

Once we accept them, we can approach these feelings in a spirit that’s warm, supportive, and loving. In practicing self-compassion, we recognize that there is a part of us that is suffering, and give it our support and our love.

Something that can help us to practice acceptance of our pain or fear is to recognize that our feelings are only and always, pleasant or unpleasant or neither, and never right or wrong.

The feelings that arise for us are often not voluntary and are typically ethically neutral; they are not choices we make and so they don’t have any moral weight. Only how we think, speak, and act in response to them is ethically important. Shame is not something we should have around any of the feelings we experience. We feel what we feel. But just accepting them, this is a deep act of self-compassion. This is our shelter from the storm, and the flood of emotions brought by the storm.

Jack Kornfield:
"One day my teacher Ajahn Chah held up a beautiful tea cup, 'To me this cup is already broken. Because I know its fate, I can enjoy it fully here and now. And when it’s gone, it’s gone.' When we understand the truth of uncertainty, we become free."

The broken cup helps us see beyond our illusion of control. When we commit ourselves to raising a child, building a business, creating a work of art, or righting an injustice, some measure of failure as well as success will be ours.

There is always much beyond our control. If we only focus on the results, we will be devastated. But if we know the cup is broken, we can give our best to the process, create what we can, and trust the larger process of life itself. We can plan, we can care for, tend and respond. But we cannot control. Instead we take a breath, and open to what is unfolding where we are. This is a profound shift, from holding on, to letting go.