This is an AI-generated transcript from auto-generated subtitles for the video Changing Poison into Medicine with Hilary Borison. It likely contains inaccuracies.
The following talk was given by Hilary Borison at the Insight Meditation Center in Redwood City, California. Please visit the website www.audiodharma.org for more information.
Good evening. Welcome. I’m Hilary, and I’m sitting in for Diana this evening. Is there anybody who’s here for the first time? Oh yes, welcome. Welcome.
So, I’m going to talk tonight about something which sounds a little strange at first, but hopefully, by the end of the talk, it will make more sense. It’s called changing poison into medicine.
Nagarjuna1, a Mahayana2 Buddhist teacher from the 2nd century in India, likened the Buddha’s teachings to a great physician who can change poison into medicine. Each of us finds our way to the dharma3 for different reasons, but often it is suffering. Is there anybody who came here because you feel some sense of suffering? You just feel free to raise your hand. It may not be everyone.
There’s something inside of many of us that keeps us from a sense of well-being. It might be physical, emotional, or psychological pain, which we might try to fight against or try to get rid of. Has anybody tried to fight against their suffering or get rid of it? “I’ve got to root that out.” I have, definitely. But unfortunately, it only causes more suffering because we’re at war with ourselves. Whatever we resist persists. That is a saying that you’ll probably hear in the dharma. So the suffering leads us to the dharma for medicine.
The Buddha went in search of medicine when he couldn’t bear knowing that people became ill, grew old, and died. So he left his palatial life. You would think he would have no suffering, but he did. He left the palace and went out in search of wisdom, some medicine. He started off with practicing very ascetic practices. At one point, he was eating so little that he almost starved himself to death. They say that he could touch the front of his belly to his back; there was nothing in between. It was not until a young woman, Sujata, came along and found him and nourished him with some really rich porridge. And he realized, “Ah, that’s not the way,” right? To cause more suffering for myself, more pain physically. That helped to put him on this path of enlightenment, this middle way.
On this path to enlightenment, he finally sat down underneath the Bodhi tree4 and said, “I’m going to sit here until I achieve enlightenment.” And then Mara5 came along and bombarded him with all kinds of frightening and tempting things. There were demons and raging storms, and there were beautiful dancing girls, and he met them all with equanimity6. As these armies let loose a barrage of arrows, it is said in the suttas7 that they fell all around the Buddha like flower petals.
So he showed us a path to change poison into medicine. Whatever came at him, he was able to transmute it. Whatever pain and sorrow and fear, he transmuted into beautiful qualities of compassion, patience, acceptance, kindness, and wisdom.
The first step in transmuting poison into medicine is to turn towards the pain. Does anybody feel that’s counterintuitive? It felt like that to me at first. Turning towards the pain, really? That’s going to help? So most of us spend much of our lives, until we get to the dharma, running away from, ignoring, repressing this pain. And we say, “I’m okay,” and we get busy with other things. Has anybody said that? “Oh yeah, I’m okay.” Yeah. But if we just ignore it, if we try to repress these feelings, they don’t go away. They just go underground into our subconscious, and they cause unease and undermine our best intentions. Do you ever feel sometimes that there’s this inner part of you that’s always trying to get in your way or impede your progress? And you’re like, “Why? What’s in there? Who is that? Why is that part of me doing that?”
There’s a Tibetan story about Milarepa8, who lived around 1,200 years ago. He was filled with a poisonous rage, and he actually murdered many people out of revenge for his family’s stolen wealth. After a while, he eventually comes to the dharma, and the message begins to penetrate, and he turned his life around. I’m going to read you a story about how one day he went into a cave seeking firewood.
One day the Tibetan teacher Milarepa left his cave to gather firewood. When he returned, he found that his cave had been taken over by demons. There were demons everywhere. His first thought upon seeing them was, “I have got to get rid of them.” He lunges towards them, chasing after them, trying forcefully to get them out of his cave, but the demons are completely unfazed. In fact, the more he chases them, the more comfortable and settled in they seem to be.
Realizing that his efforts to run them out have failed miserably, Milarepa opts for a new approach and decides to teach them the dharma. If chasing them out won’t work, then maybe hearing the teachings will change their minds and get them to go. Seems like a good idea. So he takes his seat and begins teaching about existence and non-existence, compassion and kindness, the nature of impermanence. After a while, he looks around and realizes that all the demons are still there. They simply stare at him with their huge, bulging eyes. Not a single one is leaving.
At this point, Milarepa lets out a deep breath of surrender, knowing now that these demons will not be manipulated into leaving and that maybe he has something to learn from them. He looks deeply into the eyes of each demon and bows, saying, “It looks like we’re going to be here together. I open myself to whatever you have to teach me.”
In that moment, all the demons but one disappear. One huge and especially fierce demon with flaring nostrils and dripping fangs is still there. So Milarepa lets go even further. Stepping over to the largest demon, he offers himself completely, holding nothing back. “Eat me if you wish.” He places his head in the demon’s mouth. And at that moment, that largest demon bows low and dissolves into space.
So Joseph Campbell, a famous mythologist, said, “The cave you fear to enter holds the treasure that you seek.” The dharma teaches us that whatever we run from pursues us, and whatever we turn towards transforms us. So we practice accepting what is true in the moment. And that may be, “I am in pain,” “I am in anguish,” “I am so sad,” or “I am so angry.” Whatever that is true for you. When we turn towards it, the pain is finally heard. It is seen, felt, and it can breathe a sigh of relief. “Finally, someone cares. I’m no longer abandoned, no longer alone.”
There’s a contemporary poet, Nayyirah Waheed, who writes, “Feel it. That thing you don’t want to feel. Feel it and be free.”
So the first step in transmuting poison into medicine is to turn towards the pain. Acknowledge that it is here. Allow the feeling to be felt, seen, and heard, and to hold it in loving awareness with compassion. Part of what is so helpful about the teachings of the dharma is to learn that we have inside of us an awareness that can be aware of the thoughts, the feelings, the sensations that arise within us. But our awareness is not those things. There’s a space that we can create between what we think, we feel, we sense, and this awareness. So that is the first step: turning towards.
And then the second step is to notice when we’re shooting the second arrow and stop. The first arrow is the pain of whatever might be happening to us that causes this feeling of suffering. The second and subsequent arrows are the ones we inflict upon ourselves as we heap on thoughts that are unkind. If we suffer a misfortune, we make a mistake, we often say hateful things to ourselves. Has anybody done that here? Said really unkind things to yourself you would never say to someone else because it would be so devastating? And yet, so often we do that all the time within our own minds.
So it’s these second arrows that are optional. We can choose to turn these arrows into flowers by befriending whatever inner demons arise within us. Kahlil Gibran wrote, “And God said, ‘Love your enemy,’ and I obeyed and loved myself.” I’m going to read that one more time. I think that’s so profound. God said, “Love your enemy.” And I obeyed and loved myself.
Like ancient alchemists who endeavored to transmute base elements into gold, that’s the alchemy of our practice. We turn poison into medicine by turning pain from suffering into wisdom and compassion. So how do we do this? How do we put our heads inside the mouth of our demons and transform them?
There’s an ancient Tibetan Buddhist practice called Chöd9 that was developed by an 11th-century female Buddhist teacher named Machig Labdrön10. Chöd means “to cut through.” The philosophy of Chöd sees our inner demons—our obsessions, our fears, our addictions, anxieties, sometimes even chronic illness—as energies which can be healed by bringing them into the light, by meeting them, getting to know them. Rather than seeing them as our enemy and fighting against them, we turn towards them and nurture them by feeding them what they need.
There’s a contemporary Tibetan Buddhist teacher named Lama Tsultrim Allione11 who teaches a five-step process for doing this based on this ancient teaching of Chöd, and she calls it “feeding your demons.” In our practice, we might substitute “suffering” for “demon.” Our sufferings may be deep feelings of perhaps anger, frustration, or inadequacy, or feeling unlovable, or feeling just deeply grieved, or any number of things that can cause us to feel this inner suffering.
The five-step practice that she teaches is to find in the body where we’re holding this suffering most strongly. Usually, it’s a strong feeling. And then allow it to take on a form so that we can visualize it and see it, get to know it. The third step is discovering what the suffering needs, and this is the interesting part, by putting yourself in its place. So if there’s a deep anger, maybe your anger demon who’s feeling rage about lots of things that are happening, you would then, in this step, become that anger. Try to see it from the inside out. And then the fourth step is you ask it, “What does it want? What does it need?” And then you begin to nourish it, to give it what it wants, what it needs, and see what happens, see if it begins to transform.
I’ve done a similar process with the kids in the Dharma Sprouts program here using a book called Anh’s Anger. And here it is. This is Anh and Anh’s anger demon. Anh is living with his grandfather, and he knocks over all his blocks in anger and is sent to his room to be with his anger. And lo and behold, his anger shows up. It’s this fuzzy, red, fanged, clawed creature, and they get to know each other and they become friends.
What we do is we have the kids actually make a puppet that is their anger. And then we have them talk to their anger, like, “How are you?” “Oh, I’m so mad! I want to throw something! I want to scream!” Right? Whatever it is, let the anger tell you how it’s feeling. And then after it’s gotten that out, then you say, “What do you need?” And then you listen. “I need a hug,” or “I need to go outside and run around,” or whatever it is. This is a lovely way of teaching the kids that there’s this awareness. There is anger that is in them, and they can have a communication with this anger. This anger is not them. What do we say sometimes? We say all the time, “I am angry,” rather than, “Oh, there’s anger in me.” So we create some space, and then we can have a communication with this anger and see what it needs to tell us. There’s no emotion that is wrong or bad. They’re all useful in their own place and time. Sometimes we need anger to protect ourselves.
We make these puppets, and then in the book, Anh’s anger actually begins to transmute itself. It goes from this ginormous, really scary-looking creature to this friendly little guy who’s there to protect Anh when he needs it. So just imagine having a relationship with one of your inner demons or one of your inner sufferings. Instead of trying to get rid of it or to fight it or run away from it, you turn towards it and say, “How are you feeling? How are you feeling, sadness? What do you need? What do you want?”
What I’d like to do is just give us a little sample of what this would be like. I’m just going to lead us in this five-step process for a few minutes. You are welcome to participate in this, or you can just tune it out and sit quietly. If at any time you feel unease and you don’t want to continue with the practice, then just open your eyes, look around, take a breath, and we’ll be back together after a few minutes.
So, if you’d like to close your eyes, you’re welcome to do that, or if you’d rather just have a soft, downward gaze. Start by taking several slower, deeper breaths. I like to breathe in through my nose and a long, slow out-breath through the mouth. I feel much more letting go when I do that. So, a couple more like that.
And then just letting your breath find its natural rhythm. Just checking in with yourself. Is there something present here in you that maybe feels like a suffering? Maybe it’s a disappointment, a fear, sadness, something that feels just hard to be with a little bit. Don’t pick your worst, worst fear, but if you can be with it, just notice where you are feeling it in your body. Where is that feeling most strongly? Oftentimes, it can be felt in the chest or the belly, maybe in the face or the shoulders, the hands. See where that suffering lives in you.
And then when you feel like you have something in mind, some feeling that feels a little hard to be with, then visualize this feeling, this emotion, this suffering. Does it have a size, a shape, a color? You don’t need to make anything happen. It’s fine if you can’t visualize it, no worries. If something comes to you, then just let it happen. You don’t have to make anything happen. Is there a way that it holds itself? Maybe really upright or hunched over? How does it hold itself, this suffering? And what kind of emotion is it exuding? Maybe it makes a sound.
And then if you can, imagine that this suffering has eyes, and you look into the eyes of the suffering and ask, “What do you want? What do you need? What is it that you need?”
And then, seeing if you can change places now with that suffering, that feeling, and see what it says from the inside out. Being the suffering, what does it need? Does it just want to be heard? Does it need to know that you care? Does it need a hug?
And then imagine switching places again once you’ve heard from this suffering. And then imagine nourishing it with whatever it needs. Imagine just feeding that to this demon. And see if anything happens, if anything changes, anything shifts. Maybe just in the way that you feel towards this little demon, this suffering.
And then we’ll just give another moment of being with this feeling, seeing what happens when you nourish it with what it needs.
And then when you’re ready, just taking a deeper breath in and out, and then opening your eyes.
So rather than trying to fight with these inner feelings, these inner—whatever you like to call them, whether you call them demons or parts or suffering—we can make friends with them and become more whole. The suffering feels seen and heard and comforted, soothed. And so these strong feelings are no longer afraid of us, that we will reject them, we will turn away, we will try to repress them or get rid of them. And we are no longer afraid of being with them. The poison becomes the medicine. And what we were fighting to repress can become a friend, an ally, perhaps a protector when we need them.
There’s a poem by Rainer Maria Rilke: “Perhaps the dragons in our lives are princesses who are only waiting to see us act, just once, with beauty and courage. Perhaps everything that frightens us is, in its deepest essence, something helpless that wants our love.”
So I would like to invite us to a little conversation about how that was for you. Are there any questions or reflections? We can pass the microphone.
Questioner 1: Thank you for that talk, and the exercise was interesting. I think initially, with the imagery of demons, it’s easy to think of it as something we’re averse to, like the aversions. This may be more of a comment, but I’m not sure if also we could work with things that we have the opposite, like too much desire for, and view that as a demon? Do the same exercise?
Hilary: Yes, absolutely. Sometimes we are so desirous. It could be food or sex or shopping or gambling or something. And often, that is something inside of us that is longing to receive something that we’re trying to substitute for. Oftentimes, what we’re really longing for is connection and love and care, and we’re not receiving it from the outside world. And so we can actually give that to ourselves. One of the things I do is I teach mindful self-compassion courses. And it’s amazing how when we learn to turn our compassion we have towards others towards ourselves, how soothing and comforting it can be. Even like a simple touch with an intention of kindness. Even if we make a mistake, instead of saying, “Oh, I cannot believe I did that! Oh, I’m so awful, I can’t believe that,” instead, “Oh, this hurts. I’m so sorry that this happened, and I still love you. I still care. You’re still a worthy human being.” So thank you for that question. That was really very good. Anything else coming up for you?
Questioner 2: Thank you. I can share my experience through this practice. It’s very nice. So my demon at this time is the sadness emotion. And I visualize it, and I ask it, “What do you need?” It didn’t speak, but I can feel what it needs. It really just needs that I accept it, that I’m being with her, like really accept it. And I try to accept it, and I feel fear in my heart. And then I also try to, you mentioned like we need to nourish it, so I try to give blood to it to nourish it. It doesn’t want my blood, it just wants me to accept it.
Hilary: That’s so beautiful. Thank you. It’s very beautiful. Thank you so much. I love it. You’re welcome. Oh, I’m getting chills. Yeah, because so often what happens is when we’re sad, we do not want to feel it. That’s also true of fear. We don’t want to feel the sadness because it feels so overwhelming. We’re afraid if we go into it, we’ll never come back out. We’ve got to be strong, right? That’s what we’re taught, you know, stiff upper lip. And yet the sadness is sad. The sadness needs to be comforted. So thank you for that.
Is this something that perhaps you could imagine just doing sometime on your own? It could be as simple as—it doesn’t have to be the five steps. It could just be the realization that there’s a really overwhelming feeling that is causing suffering, and you are really trying to run away, you’re trying to repress it, you do not want to feel it. And instead, can you perhaps turn towards it, visualize it, and say, “I see that you are so upset. Can I be here for you? Can I actually make space for you? And can I hold you with some compassion?” Can you imagine doing that? Would that be different from what you do now?
The thing about self-compassion is that I think a lot of us have been led to believe that it is a weakness. It will make us weak, it will take away our inner motivation. We won’t be able to face the world. We’ve got to be strong. But what happens is all of these feelings that we’ve had, and oftentimes this begins when we’re very young. I mean, how many of us as children were told when we were crying or upset, “Stop that”? Did anybody hear that? “Stop it. Go to your room.” Right? Or if you’re angry, “Yeah, go to your room, and when you can gather yourself together, whatever, then you can come out.” So we’re taught that all these feelings are not okay. So nobody tells us what to do with them.
I think we can come to this practice and realize that there’s a lot of these untended feelings we’ve stuffed inside. And I can tell you, I’ve been practicing for 20 years, you can keep stuffing those emotions your whole life, and they don’t go away. They won’t go away until—often what happens in our practice is that when we sit in silence and we make space for whatever arises, stuff will come up. Has anybody found that out? Like stuff that you buried starts to come up, and you’re like, “Ah, what do I do now?”
So this is something that you can do. You can meet what arises without being so afraid. I think of all of these feelings as being more like kids, you know, that little child in me that was overwhelmed, that didn’t get what I needed. And so now whenever I feel some sadness or fear or frustration, I can just imagine them as these little people who need my support and my help. That is that space between our awareness and the feelings. And sometimes the feelings are really, really strong, right? They’re very frightening. And what we can do if we feel overwhelmed, like, “I cannot deal with you right now,” we can still be kind. We can still say to the fear, the sadness, the anger, “You know, I see you. I feel you. You’re not bad. It’s okay that you’re here. It makes sense for you to feel this way. And I need to go for a walk right now,” or “I need to go do something else, but I will come back to you. I will be back for you.” So those feelings don’t feel abandoned from us. And little by little, over time, with practicing this way, we can begin to hold more of these feelings and not be so afraid, not feel like we need to run away. And then, as I said earlier, the feelings then are not afraid of us, and we’re not so afraid of them, and we can become friends, we can become allies.
So I hope that this has been helpful. And if it hasn’t been, if it’s something that is not useful for you, then just completely let it go. There’s lots of ways to practice. This is one that I use, and it’s very helpful for me, so I wanted to share it. But if it’s not helpful for you, then let it go and find the things that are really helpful for your practice.
I would just like to dedicate the merit of our time together. May all beings turn towards their suffering with kindness and compassion. And may we practice this self-compassion that will benefit all those that we connect with, all those other suffering beings. May we meet them with compassion. Thank you so much for being here. Thank you for your practice. And I will stay here for a few more minutes if anybody has anything that they want to share, anything they want to ask. Thank you for being here. Take good care. You’re welcome.
Nagarjuna: An influential Indian Mahayana Buddhist philosopher from the 2nd century CE, known for his development of the concept of Śūnyatā, or “emptiness.” ↩
Mahayana: One of the two main existing branches of Buddhism, meaning “Great Vehicle.” It is a term for a broad group of Buddhist traditions, texts, philosophies, and practices. ↩
Dharma: A key concept in Buddhism with multiple meanings, including the teachings of the Buddha, the cosmic law and order, and the nature of reality. ↩
Bodhi Tree: The sacred fig tree in Bodh Gaya, India, under which Siddhartha Gautama, the historical Buddha, is said to have attained enlightenment. ↩
Mara: In Buddhism, a demonic celestial king who tempted Prince Siddhartha by trying to seduce him with the vision of beautiful women who, in various legends, are often said to be his daughters. In Buddhist cosmology, Mara is associated with death, rebirth, and desire. ↩
Equanimity (Upekkha): One of the four sublime states (Brahmaviharas) in Buddhism. It is a state of psychological stability and composure which is undisturbed by experience of or exposure to emotions, pain, or other phenomena. ↩
Sutta: A discourse or sermon attributed to the Buddha or one of his close disciples. ↩
Milarepa: A major figure in the history of Tibetan Buddhism, who was a murderer as a young man before turning to Buddhism to become an accomplished yogi and poet. ↩
Chöd: An advanced spiritual practice and discipline arising from Tibetan Buddhism. It is also known as “Cutting Through the Ego.” The practice is based on the Prajñāpāramitā or “Perfection of Wisdom” sutras, which expound the “emptiness” concept of Buddhist philosophy. ↩
Machig Labdrön: A renowned 11th-century Tibetan tantric Buddhist practitioner, teacher, and yogini who originated the Chöd lineage. ↩
Lama Tsultrim Allione: A contemporary American author and teacher in the Tibetan Buddhist tradition. The original transcript said “Sultram Alioni,” which has been corrected based on the context of the “Feeding Your Demons” practice she developed. ↩