“The outer technology of the world must be matched by the inner technology of the heart.” – Jack Kornfield
We live in a time of extraordinary technological development. Computers, artificial intelligence, biotechnology, space technology—all offer remarkable possibilities. But even the best modern technologies will not end continuing warfare, racism, or the ways we mistreat the Earth, because all these have roots in the human heart.
The outer technology has to be matched by an inner technology. This is what the wisdom traditions offer: practices that help us understand our own minds and meet life with greater compassion.
I had a good Ivy League education. I learned chemistry, mathematics, history, and all the things one might study as an undergraduate. But nobody taught me how to work with anger or trauma. Nobody taught me how to meet fear, anxiety, or longing.
When I went to a Buddhist monastery and began to meditate, I realized this was a critical part of the inner education I really needed. Growing up, I had been the peacemaker in my family. My father was a brilliant scientist, but he was also violent and abusive, and each of us children developed our own strategy for dealing with the suffering. Mine was to make peace. I was going to be a peaceful monk.
Then, sitting in my little hut in the forest, I discovered that some of the monks nearby weren’t behaving the way I thought they should. I became irritated, and then it got worse, and I became really angry. I went to my teacher, Ajahn Chah, and told him about it.
He looked at me and said, “Good.”
“Good? Why is that?”
“Because now you’re going to learn about anger.”
He sent me back to my hut to close the windows and sit in the middle of the hot season and be with the anger. I noticed the stories it told—how right I was, how important I felt. Then I noticed how much grief I felt. I began to come to terms with feelings I had suppressed for years. This was a different kind of education—an education of the heart.
We need this education of the heart. We need to recognize fear and anger in ourselves, to understand them with compassion, and to learn how to respond without causing further harm. Mindfulness can help, but sometimes even meditation can become another grim duty. We think, “I go to the gym, I have a good diet, and now I meditate.” Then we judge ourselves for having bad thoughts or being unable to settle down.
This is why we bring mindfulness and loving kindness together. Mindful loving awareness invites us to become a loving witness to whatever is here. Even the judging voice can be recognized and held with kindness. When it says, “I’m no good at meditation,” we can respond, “Thank you for your opinion, but I’m fine just now.” As we practice this, a little more space becomes available. We can feel anger without immediately speaking from it. We can acknowledge fear and still act with care. This serves us in our relationships, in our work, and in all the difficulties we face together in this world.
ThĂch Nhất Hạnh spoke of crowded Vietnamese refugee boats meeting storms or pirates. If everyone panicked, all could be lost. But if even one person remained calm and centered, it showed the way for everyone to survive.
You know who that person is.
Our practice helps us become a steady presence. We learn to tend the heart, and then bring that steadiness into the world.
With blessings,
Jack
