Hello from New Mexico,

I'm here on an unintentional solo retreat, just my meditation cushion and me, nestled in the beauty of the high desert. I say unintentional because I was supposed to be here with two friends -- who, for their own very good reasons (health and work) couldn't make it last minute. What is that old Yiddish proverb about making plans and God laughing?

Which is how I ended up alone, miles off of a dirt road, with no phone service and little-to-no WiFi access until my connection was resolved last night (phew). It's also how I've ended up spending the past few days contemplating the feeling of deep disappointment.

Which as someone who just released a book called Tea And Cake With Demons, trust that this cosmic joke of being alone in the company of my own disappointment is not lost on me. Revision : Just my meditation cushion and me, AND and the demon of disappointment.
Hello, you sweet little f*cker. You nasty, tender little thing.

Recently Marisa Viola -- my friend, fellow meditation teacher, and cohost of this upcoming retreat -- reminded me of a line by the Tibetan mediation master Chogyam Trungpa that's been rattling around in my chest cavity ever since:

"Disappointment is the chariot of the the dharma."

In other words: disappointment is the horse that reality rides in on.
This can be exceedingly clarifying -- meeting the truth of things head on. A big ol' breath of authentic perception.
I can see that what I wanted to happen, what I thought was happening -- is not actually what's happening at all.

Which of course can also be incredibly painful as reality collides with our grandest delusions, hopes and expectations in a very uncomfortable way. Disappointment is the chariot of the truth of things — not the chariot of the way that we thought things would be.

This collision of reality meeting our desired reality can leave us pretty banged up, depending on how far the let-down has to travel before it hits the floor.
One always hears that meditation helps in these situations.
But of course, the question is -- how?

It’s not a stretch to say that 1/2 of the people who come to my classes at MNDFL confess that they’re there because of the death, the diagnosis, the divorce, the disappointment that left them all banged up — and they heard that meditation could help… ? Hopefully?

And I can attest like an Evangelist that it’s true. YES.
Meditation is super effing helpful in navigating those hard collisions — but maybe not in the ways that we think. It doesn’t offer us some kind of spin-job or reframe like, “Everything happens for a reason”.
*Although everything might happen for a reason — what do I know? Maybe that's why God is laughing. Or the Universe. Or the Divine. Or the Void. Or whatever you like to call the mystery.
Sorry -- tangent.

What mediation offers us — in my opinion — is exponentially more valuable:
The consistent practice of meeting reality as it is.
Which leads to the profound realization — feeling of certainty, even -- that even if the situation is not okay, that you will be okay. No matter how this all pans out.

The lost opportunity. The failed outcome.
The hard truth that resides where hope used to be.
Let me say that again : Even if the situation is not okay -- or what you what you want it to be -- know that you will be okay.
No. Matter. What.

We might even call this skillset “resilience”. Which as a lifeskill, is often hard-won and priceless.

When we sit down on the mediation cushion we’re inviting practice to sober us up in the best way possible. We ride the breath back to our present moment experience.
Over and over again.
We’re agreeing to meet with low-doses of discomfort — like an itch, boredom, a hit of anxiety or a leg falling asleep (Me. Always.) without making it a problem. With an attitude of gentle accommodation.
I see you.
Thank you for the information.
Now back to the breath. Back to the body. Back to the moment at hand.

This one-two combo of meeting reality as it is — and realizing that we are okay,regardless —- is something that we practice on the cushion so that we’re more equipped to meet disappointment in our life.
When - not if - it happens.
And in my experience, that's better than the very best spin-job.

Swing low, sweet chariot.
I may not like the joke. But at least I trust that I'm in on it.