Mom, Dad, (cough, sob). I have something to tell you. Share with you, really. I’ve felt terrible. I’ve been hiding something. Something big. Sneaking around. Being so… evasive. Lying, even. Dad, when you found that book in my bag, <\/i>Hardcore Zen. I told you it was <\/i>porn. I am so, so sorry. And mom, when you caught me sitting on that cushion, staring at the wall, and I… I told you I was stoned. <\/p>\n
I’ve been really dishonest. I’ve been afraid to tell you something that I’ve been hiding for a long time. Because I was afraid you’d be upset. <\/p>\n
Mom, Dad. (choke, sob)<\/p>\n
I’m Buddhist. <\/i><\/p>\n
\nWow. That was awkward. But not that far off, for some of us. We all come to the dharma from different backgrounds, but many of us grew up in a different belief system. For some, telling our parents about our practice can be scary.<\/p>\n
So many of us have
\nslouched into our practices. Maybe we started with a yoga class, read a
\ncouple of books, and a couple of years later found ourselves chanting
\ngathas with a bunch of baldies. And during that time, our parents might
\nhave suspected something was up. Maybe it was the mala beads, or the
\nens? tattoo. But we don’t always want to have “the talk.” <\/p>\n
Obviously, when we withhold from people we love, it’s because we’re
\nafraid of how they’ll react. And yet, while we’re withholding, there’s
\nalways that elephant in the room. Because they know something’s up.
\nThey don’t necessarily know what you’re doing, but the fact that you’re
\nhiding it makes you seem… creepy. Seriously. I know. I’ve been there.<\/p>\n
So the question is, how do we share this thing called Buddhism? <\/p>\n
Here’s my no-guarantee five-point system for success. <\/p>\n
1. Mindfulness<\/b>. Before you tell them, stop and examine where you’re Again, no guarantees. I’m just a poor suffering schmuck like you. Mom, Dad, (cough, sob). I have something to tell you. Share with you, really. I’ve felt terrible. I’ve been hiding something. Something big. Sneaking around. Being so… evasive. Lying, even. Dad, when you found that book in my bag, Hardcore Zen. I told you it was porn. I am so, so sorry. And mom, when…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":209,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[5],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-945","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-buddhism"],"yoast_head":"\n
\ncoming from. If you’re anything like me, you might find yourself in a
\nreally self-righteous place about it. Oh, man, you guys are suckers for
\nbelieving in that
\nJudaism\/Christianity\/Hinduism\/Jainism\/Islam\/Scientology\/Wicca stuff. The
\nBuddha is waaaay better.<\/i> This might have something to do with why you
\nhaven’t told them; being so self-righteous about it, you know you’re
\ngoing to piss them off when you tell them, and you’re avoiding that
\nargument. Good job, but they’re not fooled. Be really careful of that
\npatronizing little voice in your head: oh, isn’t it sweet that you
\nbelieve in that imaginary guy in the sky. that’s so quaint! <\/i>That’s what
\nI mean by self-righteous.
\n2. Mindfulness<\/b>. Stop and take a look at your own beliefs, where they’re
\nrigid and where you’re unable to see another point of view. Maybe your
\nmom really believes in Jesus and it breaks her heart seeing you going
\nto hell. Maybe your grandma lost family in the Holocaust and can’t
\nimagine why you’d reject your Jewishness in a world where you can be
\nJewish and not be killed for it. Or maybe she’s just worried about you. But as long you’re convinced that your
\nway is the right way, you have no room to accept anyone else’s point of
\nview. If you can be compassionate, and truly accept where they’re
\ncoming from, things’ll flow a lot easier.
\n3. Mindfulness<\/b>. Take a look at how you’re making your parents wrong for
\nthe way they observe their religion, or don’t observe their religion.
\nYou don’t have to examine whether you’re doing it. I guarantee you, you
\nare. We all do. Let it go<\/i>. Whatever they’re doing is whatever they’re
\ndoing. You don’t have any right to tell them how or what to practice.
\nYou can share what’s important to you, though, and if you’re doing it
\nfrom your heart, it’s likely they’ll accept it in some way. But like I said, no guarantees.
\n4. Mindfulness<\/b>. Make an effort to understand what’s important to your
\nparents, and speak to that in a respectful way. If there are teachings
\nfrom their beliefs that you know are important to them, think about the
\nparallels you know from Buddhism. If you can’t find any, don’t try to invent them.
\nJust accept where they’re coming from. Share some of the things you’ve
\nlearned from Buddhism that really resonate with you, and how they’ve
\nbenefitted you. Don’t try to convince them, just share from your heart,
\nand keep it simple; you don’t need to pretend you’re addressing 1,250
\nbikkhus at Vulture Peak<\/a>.
\n5. Mindfulness<\/b>. Be willing to accept their non-acceptance of your
\npractice. While many of us would love our families to wholly support us
\nand even join us on the cushion, get that it’s not necessary for them to
\napprove. If they do accept it, it might not happen
\nin the way you expect, and it might take longer than you imagined. <\/p>\n
\nBut I do know from experience that anytime you share with someone from
\na place of I’m right and you’re wro<\/i>ng<\/i>, it just doesn’t work. So start
\nsharing, and make an effort to come from a place of mindfulness, knowing that
\nyou’re not right<\/i>, they’re not wrong<\/i>, and you have no idea how they’re
\ngoing to react until you start communicating with them.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"