While contemplative and mindfulness practices are often seen as solitary pursuits, Mindful founding editor Barry Boyce offers a case for why our search for peace and freedom is a group effort.
The principle of sangha is pretty well-known these days, especially for folks who’ve engaged in some meditation practice. While it originates in Buddhism, it can be a helpful principle for all of us to understand more about in a world that is rapidly creating more and more zones of isolation. The term is generally translated as community, and the companionship aspect of sangha is certainly a key element for any of us who choose to seek insight through mindfulness meditation practice.
Finding freedom and peace is also a group effort, not simply a tortured individual struggle.
When contemplative practice is reduced to a purely solitary pursuit, it’s easy to over-personalize our struggles and dramas. Companions help us realize we’re all in this together. Finding freedom and peace is also a group effort, not simply a tortured individual struggle.
The sangha principle, though, expands beyond camaraderie and mutual aid. It encourages us to support each other in ways that stretch us beyond our own frame of reference to a persistent curiosity about others, so that we can accommodate them and give them a sense of belonging, as well as challenge them when possible to go beyond limitations they may be imposing on themselves.
We all appreciate being accommodated by others, made to feel included, respected, understood, cared for. To accommodate others, though, requires taking the time to learn who they are. I know, for example, several people who’ve lost children early in life—to illness, to overdose, to fatal accidents. It’s common for them to find themselves in social situations where people spend a lot of time going on about their children’s achievements. These encounters can be alienating and painful. In the same vein, social media braggadocio, a.k.a “self-branding,” can be equally thoughtless.
Accommodating also includes appreciating other people’s limitations and leaning into those. I know someone with arthritis who finds it hard to walk on uneven ground. Nonetheless, friends continually insist that my friend walk on the beach with them. What they perceive as enjoyable is to her a one-time joy that has become excruciating. But how could they know?
Through curiosity. Real communication with others begins with listening deeply. Beyond simply hearing what people are saying, it’s truly getting to know them, whatever time and effort that takes. That’s how people become part of a genuine sangha that accommodates them as they are, with all their limitations.
Real critique, something that’s important in many walks of life, is best delivered with kindness and a strong motivation to truly help combined with a willingness to admit your perception may be flawed.
Really getting to know people as whole people allows us to open ourselves to what they may see about us that we can’t see as easily, and we may be able to do the same for them. When we challenge someone’s perceived weaknesses or faults, we have to dig deep to know why we’re doing it and also to see if there is indeed an opening. Giving “feedback” can be dangerous; a friend of mine calls it “feedbag” because the person giving it can often be simply gorging on the power of their words and indulging in superiority.
Real critique, something that’s important in many walks of life, is best delivered with kindness and a strong motivation to truly help combined with a willingness to admit your perception may be flawed. When it’s delivered with care, though, it can make a huge difference. And in the absence of critique, we all run the risk of losing the benefit of engaging with diverse perspectives.
We humans have an outstanding propensity for creating in-groups, and sanghas can easily slip into this. They can become chummy, clubby, and even culty. Ick. The sure sign is when newcomers have to break through a wall of codes and jargon to feel they belong. Naturally, there is language specific to a group. But we all know the difference between giving people a leg up by listening to them first, and talking amongst ourselves, forcing someone to be a social safecracker to feel they can enter the community.
When community becomes sangha—a group of people completely dedicated to mutual welfare—it’s a beautiful thing. A real sangha is not fixed. It’s an ecosystem whose inherent power comes from the ability to accommodate new blood that will alter its complexion. That’s what we call growth.