5 Courage

Courage is not about changing anything or grasping for some better state.
It’s the valor of truly being present.

— JOSEPH GOLDSTEIN

The Fifth Parami: Courage

The Pali word viriya, which we translate as courage, is used to designate the fifth parami in the Buddhist texts. It means exertion in mental development, energy, strength, vigor, perseverance, vitality. More commonly, we recognize courage as an attitude of facing what is dangerous, difficult, or painful with valor, the courage to do what one thinks is right.

Instructions: Warrior Work

“So, Joseph, a quick question before we begin this month. Viriya. I don’t know why, but I just love that word. I see it often translated as ‘energy’ but that word is just too vague and wimpy, uninspiring. I have also seen ‘courage.’ Is that also a good translation?”

“Well, the Pali word viriya, pronounced veer-ee-ya, is most often translated as ‘energy,’ but it can also be defined as perseverance, strength, courage, vigor, and vitality. The opposite of viriya is what Buddhists call ‘sloth and torpor,’ the mind that retreats from difficulties. So viriya has many connotations, and I would just include them all.”

“I did write down several, but as I go through the month and use a word, I would use . . . ?”

“Well, you could select and use different words, depending on the context.”

“Oh! It’s not either/or! There it is again. Gosh darn it,” I say, laughing. “Maybe by the end of this whole study I will finally remember that. It doesn’t have to be either/or. If I just learn that one thing, it would be profound for me! That’s a very good idea, calling up different aspects of that viriya energy as needed.”

“And right here,” Joseph speaks slowly, chuckling, “is an example of wisdom.”

“No, it’s not wisdom. It’s the other. The evil twin.”

“No. It’s the investigation of the limitation of thinking either/or, forgetting that often we don’t have to be limited by that. It can be both.”

I take a big, audible breath and then release it. “I understand. In fact it’s mostly both, if I take the time to really investigate more deeply.”

Really, I’m thinking, How long is it going to take for me to master not categorizing everything as “either/or,” as either one option or point of view versus another opposing one? Actually, there are numerous influences at play in every moment. Recognizing, understanding, and investigating the complexity as opposed to quickly categorizing a thought, feeling, or observation as either this or that, useful or misguided, is a significantly different response. And just remembering that our target here is recognition, then clear seeing, then an open-minded investigation that can lead to enhanced wisdom. Intentions and reactions are mixed and often hidden, in need of a deeper investigation, unlayering. There may be a prominent first response, but there may also be several underlying motives or responses that need a gentle hand, an open mind, to be recognized. Approaching the investigation with a curt dismissal — if it is not skillful behavior or thinking, then it must be unskillful — is so limiting. How much richer to dig a bit deeper. Perhaps there is a misconception or an old, outdated habit fueling the initial response that, with just a few moments of waiting to see what else pops up, could open entirely new understandings. The image I begin using this month, as a reminder, is that of a ninja warrior, creeping into and around with stealth and sterling purpose. This feels groundbreaking, enticing, and fun. I also make a silent promise to myself to focus on this new “What else might also be happening here?” response so that Joseph will never have to remind me of this ever again! And so this is my first successful challenge working with viriya: uncovering and banishing the old habit of either/or thinking. The aspect of viriya being utilized here: perseverance.

Joseph says that the Buddha talked about the four great instructions, which call for viriya:

  1. Avoiding or preventing the arising of unwholesome states.

  2. Letting go of unwholesome states that have already arisen.

  3. Cultivating wholesome states that have already arisen.

  4. Giving energy to arouse wholesome states that have not yet arisen.

Joseph’s Instructions: Working with Courage

Viriya is the willingness to stay with what is. When we use it, wisdom grows. The more we use it, the stronger it becomes. As we use it, we are developing strength of mind. It is a powerful force that also needs a gentle touch. When we are strong in this way, we are living the practice instead of doing it. As with the previous paramis, challenge yourself to play outside your comfort zone.

  1. We begin by exploring distractions:

• Investigate all the different times in the day and the different ways you do something that distracts the mind.

• You might try making a list of these distractions. Look to see if there are habits at work just beneath the surface.

• What is it you are wanting to distract yourself from? Investigate to see how the distraction might be a retreat from boredom or unpleasant body sensations, restlessness, or fear.

  2. Viriya is meeting the difficulty. Viriya seeks out difficult situations. It is energized by challenges. It is inspired by difficulties and faces them with courage. Now we investigate further:

• Begin noticing when in life you tend to retreat from difficulties.

• What would it look like to meet a common moment of suffering with viriya?

• Challenge yourself to play outside your comfort zone.

• Pay particular attention to the quality of your effort. Again, this is a powerful force that also needs a gentle touch.

  3. Finally, go deeper. When resistance arises as you work with viriya, use the moment as an opportunity to more deeply investigate the nature and power of the resistance.

• When do you keep at it?

• Why do you keep pushing?

• When is there a moment of release, and why?

• What happens next?

Joseph’s instructions seem poignantly applicable to the current world situation — for example, the ever-changing landscape of world politics. Will there be enough viriya to overcome the obstacles? Is it mere naivety to hope for things to be otherwise and not wallow in despair or anger or apathy? Something more, someone new — how to know, to discern? A shining moment that becomes a turning point — or not? So much viriya needed. I think of Nelson Mandela in prison for so much of his life. How many times did he re-choose and renew that courage? The battleground lies within. Sometimes the viriya needed is more than we think we have. This month, perhaps, we will discover we are capable of much more, which is also viriya. And we have only just begun. We all are more capable, and we know it. Will we be wise and courageous when called upon? Unknown. Can we sow the proper seeds? We already have.

In these challenging times, may we all have the courage to pursue the way of life we value in our hearts.

— ALAIN DE BOTTON

We each need to find what is onward-leading, rather than what is simply habitual or agreeable.

— JOSEPH GOLDSTEIN

Working with Courage: Exploring Our Distractions

I am thinking the viriya instructions, with all their action-packed words — perseverance, strength, courage, vigor, and vitality — sound invigorating. A rally call to action. Time to ramp up. Ron and I call a difficult endeavor that is worth the effort “warrior work.” Attending a ten-day silent meditation retreat, we agree, is warrior work. Continuing daily to investigate and commit to living with more integrity is clearly warrior work. To do this takes courage, perseverance, vigor. After focusing on what I know, and don’t know, while working with the wisdom parami, I am now enrolled in learning how to generate the wholesome energy needed to support all the wisdom insights. I am especially fond of the word “courage.” I like thinking of myself as courageous.

So I begin with a list, as suggested, of all the ways I distract myself. While at work: rising to get a snack, continually checking email, taking a call, wandering the office and chatting with other agents and staff. I am chagrined to discover I engage in similar behavior when working from home, which I always thought was a more productive setting. Daydreaming and planning are also familiar distractions to the task at hand. No surprise there. Gazing out the window. If I stop for a moment to think, my eyes automatically shift from the desk to the distraction of view. Strong habit.

As I drive home I am mentally reviewing a transaction I struggled with today that involved an agent notoriously difficult to work with. I stop to pick up something for dinner, and there in the nearby window of our local optician shop is the perfect pair of sunglasses. I am still honoring my commitment of not purchasing anything other than replacements and I am already in the store, trying on the sunglasses. My current old ones are, well, old. Is this replenishment? I leave the store without the new glasses, but as I do, a flood of emotion washes over me regarding the unsatisfactory communication with the agent. I suddenly understand how that desire for new sunglasses arose as a distraction, first masking and then at least attempting to placate my previous discomfort. Buying things: clearly another distraction habit.

This insight sheds more light on the instruction to investigate what I am trying to distract myself from, which in this case were unpleasant thoughts and feelings. Aha. Vigor is called for here. I do not want to ignore or push away every nastiness that arises. I also do not want to obsess about it because that would be like falling into the tar pit, sucked down and stuck there. I don’t want to deny turbulent emotions are having an impact. But I want to see them clearly as just a natural response to what occurred, a response that is light enough to float into and then out of the mind naturally, if I don’t grasp and invite it to stay. Instead of the distraction of buying a new pair of sunglasses, or getting enticed by the story I create around the incident, or rehearsing endless dialogue responses, what other choices might I have here?

I could focus on the quality of a response. Although I felt dishonored by this individual, I am clear I do not wish to respond in kind. And poof! That’s it. The entire interaction, rehearsing for a second round, and even the urge to respond at all to the unkindness immediately dissipates, as does the urge to placate the discomfort with the distraction of buying or eating my way back to ease. Where and why the communication with this person went awry isn’t the issue. I suddenly understand I did not cause or fuel this agent’s anger. And although it took a while, and there are some lingering “this is unfair” thoughts, suddenly I can see an entirely new and different path. I can just walk away. And I did. And it worked. It was a tremendously freeing observation.

I am beginning to understand why viriya follows wisdom. Otherwise we might be out fighting windmills, battling the wrong adversary in our eagerness. Instead we should brandish our sword of wisdom with courage and stab holes in the real opponent, which is the habit of luring ourselves away from anything unpleasant with an enticing, soothing, pleasurable distraction.

Shortly before Joseph and I began this parami work together, he recommended me as a candidate for a prestigious scientific study entitled the “Well-Being Study,” conducted by Richard J. Davidson, Antoine Lutz, and Giulio Tononi at the University of Wisconsin–Madison. The purpose of the study was “to examine the effect of long-term meditation practice on basic emotion and attention functions, sleep patterns, pain regulation, and social stress.” They were seeking thirty individuals experienced in vipassana meditation, from around the country, for a study that would span eighteen months. In addition to being seasoned meditators (at least one of the participants was a well-known Tibetan monk), we also had to be willing and able to participate in a series of tests that included pain, socially stressful situations, and sleeping while wired up and observed in a lab. In fact we had to meet a very long list of criteria, including “not uncomfortable with small spaces.”

Now, in the middle of this viriya month, I am lying very, very still inside a whirring, clanging fMRI (functional magnetic resonance imaging) machine. The irony of the timing does not go unnoticed.

I am packed in as tight as a sardine, arms pinned between my torso and the sides of the metal tunnel, pillows wedged tightly alongside my neck, holding my head rigid. I am swathed in blankets because inside the machine it is remarkably cold. I feel like a tube of dough, wrapped tightly then placed in the freezer. I have goggles on and am looking at horrific images while pain is being administered to my arm via a heat cuff or jolts of electricity through wires taped to my finger. I am continually being asked to rate how I feel about all this, responding with a light tap of a finger on a button taped to it. I am warned in advance when pain is coming, with plenty of time to contemplate its impact, my thoughts and emotions registering on a brain scan. Meanwhile the machine vibrates and groans and thumps, piercing through my earplugs like thunderbolts.

As I lay there, for almost two hours, I am fiercely calling on any and every morsel of viriya I can muster. This is ultimate warrior work. And I am fierce in this cold metal tube of pain. It takes tremendous strength to continually and repeatedly relax every muscle in my body as it screams for attention, for permission to wiggle. Vigor keeps me ultra-focused on the task at hand. There is no allowing the mind to wander, no daydreaming in this freezer. Vitality keeps me alert as I encourage myself to just keep coming back to this moment now, just this moment now. I will not allow any distractions or discomfort to cloud my efforts. Perseverance is called up in the last half hour as I suddenly and desperately need a bathroom break. But to ask to be taken out of the machine means canceling the entire session, and I am unwilling to let the team down. They hover just outside the machine, speaking words of encouragement to me between tests via an intercom. We have come too far for me to give up now. Throughout all the days and nights of testing for the study, courage was there, continually arousing the original purity of my intent to make a difference in people’s lives. Viriya: vigor, vitality, perseverance, courage. I was committed to helping prove the value of meditation, something I had found so profoundly useful. And my efforts were stellar. I surpassed my own expectations. Viriya seeds had been sown and were already sprouted. I could do this thing, and I did.

As I consider the instruction on the four great teachings, I realize how much I was using this teaching in that freezing chamber of horrors. As I toiled to remain balanced and present, moment by moment, I was using one of the four efforts. I was keenly watching for a stray emotion or thought to cause a fidget or fuss — or worse, to cause me to give up. If an unsavory thought, body sensation, or feeling did get through the first line of defense, I focused all my energy on letting it go, escorting that unwholesome state back out of the tunnel. When the mind was calm and the body relaxed, I took strength from those wholesome moments and asked for that clarity of mind to continue, smooth and at ease. And especially in the most difficult moments, I remembered those wholesome moments of ease and endeavored to cultivate more of them. Now, as I recall those days, the lessons seem particularly well suited to unlocking and understanding more deeply this month’s viriya. I have only to imagine myself back in that dark inhospitable machine to understand and recreate the wholesome efforts, the skills and wisdom I utilized to ultimately succeed.

The work with viriya continues back home. I reread the instructions. How, when, where else do I keep at it, do I keep pushing? I often tend to keep at something and push long past usefulness and certainly past enjoyment. When I do this, the quality of mind quickly becomes weary, with flashes of self-pity. A good example is when I am gardening. I begin with enthusiasm for the gloriousness of the day, the fragrance of fresh dirt, the sun warming my shoulders, the exercise. But if I don’t continue checking in, paying attention to my attitude, I can easily breeze through grace and gratitude and wake up sometime later to find myself raking up a seriously bad attitude.

And so on Saturday, viriya, wisdom, and I go out into the garden to rake and clean up rubble after two back-to-back big storms. Although much more pleasant than an fMRI machine, still I keep checking in to prevent the arising of unwholesome states, which in this case would be pushing to complete the task and toppling into an unpleasant “woe-is-me” demeanor. When I feel the first indications of weariness, right then I decide it is enough. I am not finished, but I know it’s time. And by doing so, I very efficiently and effectively stop the arising of the more habituated, but unwholesome, state of crankiness. I put away the gardening tools, gaze on my hard work with pleasure. Then, energized — not deflated, weary, and cranky — I go into the kitchen to prepare dinner. This switch in thinking, placing the importance on attitude and not completion, rattles me to the core. It is a fist from my childhood that still clings tightly to the old behavior. There were rewards, then, for a kid who raked the entire yard. But to walk into the kitchen now and season dinner preparations with a lousy attitude would be neither skillful nor nutritious. I am rooting up and tossing rotten beliefs I have stubbornly believed since childhood, and it feels swell.

At the end of the month, the Buddhist teacher John Travis joined Joseph, Ron, and I on our annual ski-week vacation. John, who attended boarding school in Switzerland, lives in the mountains. This is how we ski together: Joseph, Ron, and I begin our descent. At some point a flash of red whizzes past us through the trees alongside the ski run. That is John skiing with us. He is an amazingly gifted skier. We stop to watch, as do others on the slope. John is that good.

John is also very humble, waving off our praise and astonishment. But if we persist in asking, he will offer a suggestion on our ski technique. It is often just what is needed to ratchet our skill up a notch. On this day we have just finished lunch together at the top of the hill at Lake Tahoe’s Northstar Resort and are outside buckling boots, getting into our skis and goggles and gloves. John stands patiently waiting. When we are ready, he suggests we try an advanced slope on a part of the mountain we have never skied. He tells us the snow and light now will be just right on this particular run. He assures us we can do it. Ron, the better skier, agrees immediately. Joseph also agrees. I am startled by this sudden change in our routine. We have not skied an expert run like this before. Seeing Joseph’s instant willingness to extend himself beyond his comfort zone surprises me. He must feel some of the same trepidation I do. So I sign on too.

The three of us start slowly down the advanced run, the steepest part of which is at the top. John stays close by, offering tips and encouragement as we work our way down, stopping often. The sun is just right. No icy shaded patches. The slope is steep, but also wide and without bumps. The last half of the run is easier, the views from this side of the mountain, through heavily forested valleys, magnificent. We are enchanted, boisterous, thrilled to have skied well down the challenging slope. At the bottom, quickly, we decide to ski it again. The second run is easier, more graceful. It becomes a run we look forward to each day after lunch. And because we have successfully skied an expert run, we stretch and try a few more black diamond runs before the end of the week, even after John has left. This is viriya.

We generate energy whereby wholesome states arise naturally in the mind each time we sit down to meditate. This applies not just during the time of meditation but continues with us through the day, aiding our ability to stay mindful of the attitude in our minds. Of course all this investigating and trying out new habits definitely gives rise to more wholesome states. And they are, simply, more pleasant. Why wouldn’t we want to pursue the effort? Why wouldn’t we want more? This is wholesome desire. We already know we are good at fulfilling desires. Now, when we feel resistance arise and release it by not frosting it with a story or emotions, a rush of energy blows through our thinking like a clean wind. Joseph described how he celebrated those moments of winning. There is more freedom available, more choices that expand and nurture.

We are halfway through this work with the paramis, and with all modesty, I sincerely feel I am operating differently. I am more focused. I am especially keen on catching habits as they arise and investigating them for usefulness or not. I am more generous. I am living much more simply and with fierce integrity. I am committed to non-harming. I am wiser than when I began. And now I have a nifty new tool for working with that wisdom: viriya.

This willingness to stay with it is what makes everything possible.

— JOSEPH GOLDSTEIN

We each need great honesty of introspection and wise guidance from teachers.

— JOSEPH GOLDSTEIN

Check-In Conversation: The Valor of Truly Being Present

“OK,” I say, shuffling through my notes as I begin my report to Joseph. We are sitting in two matching leather club chairs in the mountain cabin. John Travis has left, and Ron is sitting with us, quietly. After three rigorous days of skiing, we decide to ski just a half day today. It is late morning and we are still lazily lounging. This seemed like a perfect time for a check-in, coffee mugs in hand.

I read aloud from my notes: “So Joseph, you said, ‘Viriya is challenging ourselves to play outside our comfort zone.’ I found it was great to have this piece to work with right after wisdom. The insights I had working with wisdom gave me some rich material to go deeper with on a couple more subtle habits I hadn’t really noticed before. I began with a list, of course, of my distractions.” I chuckle. “And the first insight I had was noticing that I fall captive to the same distractions working from home that I do working in the office. I still get up from the desk, go to the kitchen, forage for a snack, look at emails, answer the phone, look out the window, chat with somebody. Just seeing all those ways I distract myself from doing whatever it is I’ve decided I want or need to do was a revelation. Even when I’m doing something that I actually love doing, like when I am writing at home, those same urges of distraction — old, old habits — still arise. That is amazing to see, because I love writing, and yet the habit of distracting myself continually arises.” I groan. “But then, because I am intent on catching them arise, I am able to re-choose more quickly, before the whole notion gets out of hand. Sometimes I even remember to use your reminder, ‘Not now,’ as in, ‘I really am enjoying writing right now, but thank you for checking in.’” I laugh. “And so then I summon up more energy and refocus again. Most important, after a while I feel the distraction prompts become less interesting, less enticing, and then, of course, they happen less often.”

“Exactly,” Joseph says, chuckling.

I read aloud from my notes: “‘Viriya brings the fulfillment of all of our aspirations. It is the willingness to stay with what is that makes everything possible. When we use it, wisdom grows. The more we use it, the stronger it becomes. And as we use it, we’re developing strength of mind.’ I just love all that. It’s so inspiring. So a question: you said, ‘It’s a powerful force that also needs a gentle touch.’”

“Yes. The Buddha used the example of tuning the strings of a lute. You know, they can be tuned too tight when we are using too much energy or effort. Or if you’re using the word ‘courage,’ it could be reckless courage.” I laugh at this. I know this place well. “Or our tuning of our lute strings could be too slack. So that’s why we really have to be aware of the quality of the energy. Is it too much? Is it too little?”

“Tuning the strings is a great image. It’s so obvious, because when they’re too tight they do sound bad.”

“Right. And when they’re too loose . . .”

“. . . they don’t produce any music. Yes, that’s a great reminder.”

I must remember to keep a gentle touch. Tune my strings just right. Not too tight; not too loose. What might this mean? I can be so disciplined, too focused on perfection. Rigid scheduling both at work and on days off. Tuning the lute, for me, probably mostly involves lightening up. I am definitely someone who could benefit from loosening the strings of my lute.

“So there are aspects of working with viriya that certainly got me motivated,” I tell Joseph. “You said viriya seeks out difficult situations, is energized by challenges, inspired by difficulties. And I know people in business who are like that. They’ll say, ‘Let me help. I’m happy to talk to that difficult client.’ And they are happy to do it. They genuinely thrive on challenging communications and solving difficult situations. I am definitely not like that. But I am a risk taker. I do enjoy stretching myself. Learning new things energizes me, like skiing that new advanced run with John. That was exhilarating.” We are all nodding heads and smiling, remembering. “Or like all the new real estate tech stuff. For someone who didn’t grow up with tech, my first response can be resistance. There are always new systems for me to learn. So it’s another great arena for working with a more welcoming response instead of hesitating and backing away from the new challenges. And when I can approach it from that place, I have seen how facing a difficulty head-on and persisting until I’ve got it can be inspiring. It’s surprising, and true. That definitely feels like viriya at work.

“And avoiding unpleasant communications is still an area where I tend to retreat from difficulty. I think this is somewhat universal, and not altogether unskillful.” I laugh. “I can watch a thought arise, like a criticism, or wanting agreement on something, and then often just let it go, without acting on it. That seems skillful. But I also see that sometimes there are conversations that probably should happen. I can think of examples with co-workers, and sometimes with friends. When I do initiate this type of conversation, often it can be productive and stimulating for the relationship. But most often, I tend to avoid difficult communications. Sometimes I retreat from the difficulty because I’ve decided it is not worth the struggle with this person whom I will probably never work with again. Or maybe it’s an old friend who I don’t think will change anyway — you know, our lives have moved in different directions over the years. Do you know what I’m trying to say here? Because I’m not sure I do. There’s something I’m missing here.”

Joseph is quiet for a while. “I think a part of this is the connection between the wisdom parami and viriya. It’s the whole notion of clear comprehension, which is really an aspect of mindfulness. For example, if you are retreating from a difficulty and you see it, it doesn’t necessarily mean that’s exactly the right moment to move forward. You have to notice that thought, Oh, I’m avoiding this. And then there has to be a kind of wisdom or clear seeing that asks, ‘What is the right way to do this? What is the right time to do this?’ It’s more nuanced than just retreating. There has to be an assessment, a clarity of purpose and of timing. In the example you gave, maybe the retreating is a sign that, as you say, paths are diverging. There’s no need to hold on to that relationship. Or it could not be. It could be avoiding, where you really do want to keep a connection, and you are just avoiding a difficult conversation. So all of that has to be understood. There is an application here of mindfulness and wisdom in the effort.”

“‘Clear comprehension. More nuanced than just retreating.’ Oh, that’s good. I can feel the discernment in that, the wisdom in it even as you say it. Also the taking time with it, considering — I really like that.”

“Yes. And remembering to ask, ‘What’s the right time? What’s the right way?’ Sylvia [Boorstein] has a great line. You know, when people come up to you and say, ‘I have to tell you how I feel!’ And she will say, ‘No you don’t.’” We both laugh.

“That’s great. Sylvia has such an easy way of helping us to laugh at ourselves.” I am quiet for a few moments. “OK, so you and I share the same battlefield of wanting mind. And we have spoken about it already several times. What are some other battlefields that are as mined, say, as this one? Anger maybe? Regret? You see a lot of people. What are some other areas that can tend to trip us all up?”

“Self-judgment. Guilt. Worry,” Joseph says.

“Oh, not to say that I don’t have those too!” We both laugh.

“All of it,” he says, chuckling. “You can think of any unwholesome pattern of mind that has become habituated, giving rise to resistance or pushing. It takes effort to work with it. It is difficult because now it’s a familiar, well-established habit. Just like with the habit of buying things, it could be the habit of self-judgment or judging others.”

“How would you work with something like that?”

“Well, there you would have to be very mindful of its arising. You need to watch for and learn about the tapes that are playing in the mind. This really takes us back to the effort of being mindful.”

“So with desire, for example, and investigating it while working with viriya, are you saying it’s about addressing that first thought that comes up?”

“Yes. Exactly.”

“And it would be the same with, say, self-judging?”

“Right,” he replies. “You want to consider whether it’s an action of body, speech, or mind. There are so many different kinds of actions. You determine what arena they are playing themselves out in. Then you apply viriya to that arena.”

“In a way it seems easier to do, or at least see, when working with renunciation, right? Because when you don’t spend money, you have a little win. You didn’t cave in to the desire and spend the money. But you still have those wanting thoughts arising. You’re saying that is really the battlefield? So then with self-judgment . . .”

“It is about whether you get lost in those thoughts of self-judgment or whether you are able to see them at play, as they are arising.”

“Ah, and then whether you believe them.”

“Yes. One’s speech is a very fertile area to work with. There’s a lot to observe with our speech, as you discovered. Do we say this or not? Are we gossiping? It’s everything! Every pattern of our lives should be investigated in light of ‘Is this wholesome or unwholesome?’ Then we can apply the appropriate viriya to either abandon or develop what we see.”

“Abandon or develop. Wow. So simple and yet so powerful. That clear understanding definitely feels like viriya.” I ponder this for a long time after we speak that day.

“And I loved the four great instructions,” I tell Joseph. “I remember hearing this teaching.”

“Yes. This is the application of energy, or viriya, in all of these different areas. In some ways it is the framework for everything we’ve been talking about from the beginning.”

“Yes. My mind is spinning out on that. It really is a good way to understand the work we’ve been doing on each one of the paramis. When you talk about the quality of one’s effort, investigating whatever arises within this framework is really helpful. Plus it reminds me we are doing all this for the purpose of liberation for ourselves and for others. It’s not just about catching the unskillful habits that arise, but also about cultivating wholesome ones.”

“Right. This is a classical teaching.”

Perhaps viriya, and this teaching on the four types of effort, really belongs at the beginning of this work. And yet, without wisdom, a generous nature, virtuous intent, and a vow of renunciation, the effort could be off balance, ill conceived. I had to remind myself often this month of Joseph’s warning, “This is a powerful force that also needs a gentle touch.”

Skiing down the expert slope with John Travis that first time took viriya. To do so also included letting go of too much effort, staying loose, embracing the challenge, continuously checking in, everything we have been working with this month. But that slope can appear steep from the top. Very steep. We have to ski it with our fears and doubts, not pushing them away, ignoring, or resisting them. We summon courage and we go for it, with the fears like little weights on a weight belt. Yes, in this case, it would be better without those little fears accompanying us. But there they are, tucked into their little habit pockets. Weighing us down but not stopping us. Do we welcome the old habits still hanging on? Maybe we are not there yet. Would we like to just toss them away all at once? Of course. But we still ski the advance run! And in the rush of adrenaline as we work our way down the hill, through a new challenge, most times we don’t even notice the added weight of our resistance or hesitations. We are exhilarated. What if we had believed those fears? What if we had not taken the challenge and joined others in the adventure? What if we continue lagging behind our actual abilities?

I don’t want to lag behind life, I decide. I want to consistently keep re-choosing. I want to discard outdated habits. Most times I can’t change the conditions — a forbidding slope, ants in the kitchen, associates who don’t act as I think they should. But I can change my response, up the viriya, fine-tune the quality of my effort. Skiing down an expert run is grand. Really grand.

“This was great, Joseph! We’re halfway through the ten components of integrity already. I have plenty of material for working with this parami and the others. And I’m having such a good time with it all! Already I feel I have the tools I need to fend off the restlessness and dissatisfaction that began this work. Thank you, Joseph.”

“You’re welcome,” he says, smiling and stretching his long legs out in front of him.

And now comes patience, the sixth parami, I am thinking as we rise and prepare to hit the ski slopes. Not my strong suit. Just as I see how viriya supports an intention of generosity, virtue, and renunciation, I intuit how patience could be still another crucial ingredient in this soup we are brewing. But reminding myself to be more patient has not been very successful over the years. Certainly telling others to be patient doesn’t work very often. I am curious to see how Joseph will clear up any misconceptions I might hold about patience and enroll me in strengthening it. Perhaps the first step will be getting me to agree that patience is a virtue.

It is sometimes difficult to see and understand that changing conditions are not mistakes. They feel that way because we sometimes think that if we were only smart enough or careful enough, we could avoid all unpleasantness — that we wouldn’t fall ill or have misfortune. In fact, we usually haven’t done anything wrong, it’s just what happens.

— JOSEPH GOLDSTEIN, ONE DHARMA