Working With The Gold – Thoughts on Spiritual Freedom. Part 1 of 3: Testing What the Teachers Teach. The Role of Questioning.

8 minutes reading time

“Do not accept any of my words on faith,
“Believing them just because I said them.
“Be like an analyst buying gold, who cuts, burns, and critically examines his product for authenticity.
“Only accept what passes the test by proving useful and beneficial in your life.”

These are the words of the Buddha – in my view the greatest teacher of all time regarding freeing the spirit. He cuts to the bone the significance of developing spiritual freedom and maturity.

In the following blog posts I will reflect on components of this freedom and give my understanding of what the Buddha might have meant when he advised us to ‘cut, burn and critically examine’ gold.

Just as a goldsmith learns from their mistakes when creating a piece of jewellery, many of the insights I will share result from my own ups and downs on the ongoing journey of exploring spiritual teachings. I consider this process as open-ended and am not intending to reach a point where there is nothing more to learn. This would be an unrealistic and dangerous goal, in my view.

As I understand them, the above words of the Buddha are an invitation to ‘keep spiritually growing up’, with the gold symbolising his precious teachings about suffering and the way to end suffering.

In my attempt to explore this process of gradually freeing up the spirit with the support of teachings (no matter from which tradition), I will cover the following areas:

• Testing What the Teachers Teach
• Role of Questioning
• Making Mistakes
• Devotional Behaviour
• Relationship to Other Beliefs and Dogma
• Balance Between Withdrawal and Engagement

Testing What the Teachers Teach

In embarking on any journey, it is helpful to have guidance from people who have experience in the field we wish to learn about. I consider the guidance and support I received from experienced teachers as crucial for my own spiritual exploration, and I feel grateful for the wise and generous council of these people. Even after years of practice, there is always something new to learn.

The contact with people with a similar interest (either teachers or fellow students) is priceless to gain valuable insights and fresh ways of looking at situations in which we might feel ‘stuck’.

At the same time, it is crucial, as the Buddha points out, not to follow blindly any teachings, out of ‘obedience’ or misled by our own sense of insecurity.

In the well-known Kalama Sutta, he emphasises the importance of not following a teacher or tradition without testing the validity of the teachings for oneself.

He offers a simple test to find out whether a teaching is useful or not: If after trying it out for oneself, one experiences that a practice is beneficial – if it results in a decrease in unhelpful states of mind such as greed, hatred and confusion, and an increase in goodwill, compassion, appreciation or equanimity – then, and only then, should it be accepted as valid.

Applying this teaching to formal practice on the meditation cushion, for example, the motivation is not to please a teacher by being a ‘good student’, or to live up to self imposed goals of ‘becoming a better person’. If we follow the advice of the Buddha, we practise motivated by the experience that it leads to more calm, clarity and insight and thus has positive effects in daily life. With regular practice, we can experience the benefit in solitude, as well as in our interactions.

We feel more resilient facing stress. We are less likely to react aggressively when confronted with a challenge. Energy levels and compassion with others increases. We are more likely to wish others well, whether we know them or not. We appreciate good qualities in others and ourselves more, as well as the beauty in moments of daily life. These are all examples for what the Buddha meant when he spoke about that which proves ‘useful and beneficial in your life’.

This does not mean that one always has to ‘feel like meditating’ in order to do it. Quite often, one ‘feels’ more like watching TV, having a coffee, or, in fact, doing anything but sitting still on a cushion. It might be useful to treat the mind as a loving parent treats a child in such situations. Unguided by a loving parent, a child would probably choose to exist on a diet of chocolate cake and crisps. In this case, love does not mean feeding the child what it demands. When we would much rather like to watch another episode of our favourite series than to sit down and meditate, ‘being good to ourselves’ is not giving in to that craving. In this case, a loving response could be to sit on the cushion anyway – not because the inner critic (the ‘strict parent’) is telling us off otherwise, but because we make use of another voice inside. The one which tells us, based on experience, that this is a beneficial thing to do.

Equally, if we generally find meditation useful, but are going through an immensely challenging life situation, the skilful thing to do might be to not sit still, but to go for a run instead. If sitting still leads to even more agitation, because the strong energies of the body need a different form of release in that moment (i.e. physical movement), then in this example the more helpful thing to do is to get up and run.

It is valid and useful to listen to wise, experienced people, but nobody else can answer the question: ‘What is skilful in this particular moment?’ with absolute certainty for us.

Thus, spiritually maturing means to develop not only theoretical knowledge, but a deeper ‘knowing’ of what is beneficial for ourselves and those around us. This ‘knowing’ is very precious and worth guarding. With practice and time we gain greater confidence in our ability to discern what is skilful and what isn’t.

This has nothing to do with holding on tightly to a certain view and defending it. It is not at all concerned with ‘being right’ – it is rather like a inner sanctuary which can’t be shaken by opinions fabricated by the mind, neither one’s own nor those of anybody else.

The Role of Questioning

Regular enquiry and questioning, as recommended by the Buddha, keep the teachings alive for oneself and lead to a deeper kind of understanding of them. In my experience, all good teachers encourage their students to ask questions rather than accepting a ‘truth’ blindly. The enquiry supports this development of ‘knowing’, granted that the questions we ask come from a place of reflection about the application of the teachings to our own lives, rather than trying to solve a merely intellectual, hypothetical issue.

One might be able to work out all imaginable answers to the questions in life based on ones theoretical study of the teachings – however, if there is no application of this knowledge to the actions one takes in daily life, then surely two questions remain: ‘What’s the point of all of this?’ and ‘What is needed for the theoretical knowledge to be applied?’

In this process of questioning, one realises that fear of ‘spiritual authority’ is neither necessary nor helpful. This includes, for example, holding back expressing something out of anxiety of saying the ‘wrong’ thing, i.e. not getting the desired approval from the teacher.

A good teacher will generally appreciate the honest and heartfelt sharing of the views, concerns and questions of a student, no matter how mundane they might seem to the person expressing them.

I have attended countless group meetings in these last years. Being fortunate enough to have wonderful teachers, as well as having the privilege to be in the role of the facilitator myself, I cannot think of a single instant in which that which was shared by a participant was not in some way useful to the group.

However, sometimes it is wise to hold back expressing something, for example, if we notice anger boiling up inside us. We might feel the urge to express this anger, internally justified by a sense of ‘you might not agree with me, but it just needs to be said’.

I would argue, that nothing which is expressed with the added ingredient of aggression ever needs to be said. There might well be truth in it – however, as soon as we follow our impulse to lash out, we ensure that the person at the receiving end will most likely not be able to listen to the content of what we have to say. The respondent will naturally take on a defensive stance, unable to hear the content of what is expressed (regardless if there might be truth in it or not).

Hence, whatever we feel ‘needs’ to be expressed we can express – when the being has calmed down. We can then communicate without aggression. A harsh tone makes anything we have to say superfluous, as it will almost inevitably fall on deaf ears. It is like adding too much salt to an otherwise delicious meal: it spoils the whole dish, no matter how many other delicious ingredients are in it.

Speaking ‘our truth’ without fear, but with respect and kindness is like adding just the right amount of salt to and thus enhancing a dish.

Next: Part 2 of 3, covering the subjects ‘Making Mistakes’ and ‘Devotional Behaviour’.