Take a moment and imagine that everything you do is done easily. You live without tension or frustration. You adapt effortlessly to the inevitable changes in life, guided by wisdom and kindness. You live with ease.
“Living with ease,” is a common phrase in metta practice, and an aspect of the teachings that is worth close attention. To me, it evokes the Daoist idea of harmonizing with the Dao, or the Way the universe is unfolding. Buddhism teaches that clinging, or resistance to the truth of what is, inevitably causes suffering – like rope burn. Living in harmony with the Way does not mean acquiescence to the status quo, but more like choosing not to ram one’s head against a brick wall when you can seek a way around it.
After the Buddha achieved Enlightenment, he spent some time wondering if it was possible to teach others what he’d learned. Persuaded to try by his compassion for the suffering of the world, he sought out the few most likely to “get” his counter-intuitive path to liberation. As he approached the ascetics he’d previously practiced with, they immediately saw in the way he carried himself that something major had happened.
“What are you?” they asked, and he answered, “I am the Buddha,” the Awakened One. Although the ascetics had never before seen a walk that demonstrated the grace and ease of the Buddha, they immediately recognized that this person’s way of engaging with life had profoundly changed.
Times of ease occur naturally in our lives. It can feel like we’ve “caught a wave” and pleasantly, effortlessly, ride through what’s happening. We can create the causes and conditions for this experience through our practice, by developing the ability to let go of the mind states that create a “drag” factor in our engagement with life. It’s clinging that keeps us from acting with ease. Also, we’re usually knocked out of that state by some event that makes us cling again to something.
I try to drive mindfully, which is an eye-opening practice. When my mind is free from the urge to hurry, or a tendency to judge myself or other drivers, the process of getting from point A to B can become fluid and easy, even at rush hour. My whole body relaxes, and the motions of controlling the car become pleasant. But when some idea or emotion arises – like in response to a possible collision – that sense of ease can evaporate quickly amid fear, anger and blame.
The value in knowing it’s possible to live with ease isn’t in striving to do so 24/7. That can become a counter-productive charade, instead of the natural result of learning to let go of mental habits that lead to suffering. When we know that ease is a rightful part of life, we can celebrate when it occurs and observe how it happened, and nourish the mental preconditions that led to each instance of ease. Gradually, we will be living more and more with ease, and richly appreciating whenever we do.