B Practices for difficult times

 Deep dive: Practices for Difficult Times

A Buddhist reflection on resilience, gratitude, compassion, and finding peace amid uncertainty.

The central message of Kaspa Thompson’s essay is this: We do not need the world to become peaceful before we learn to live peacefully within it. We can acknowledge suffering without allowing suffering to become the only thing we see.

Here are the deepest points, with their practical and philosophical implications.

1. The world contains suffering and beauty simultaneously

“There are awful things, and there are beautiful things happening as well.”

• The insight: Human attention tends to be captured by danger, conflict, loss, and uncertainty. These things deserve our attention, but they do not represent the entirety of existence.
• The deeper meaning: Reality is not divided neatly into good times and bad times. Both can coexist within the same day, community, or human life.
• The Buddhist connection: Mindfulness means learning to see things as they are, rather than seeing only what fear or desire selects for us.
• The practical lesson: Noticing beauty is not denying suffering. It is refusing to let suffering monopolise our awareness.

Reflection: Can I acknowledge what is wrong without becoming blind to what is still good?

2. Gratitude is a discipline of attention, not forced positivity

The author describes small acts of kindness: a neighbour sharing the right light bulb and two young men helping a family escape a fire.

These ordinary and extraordinary actions become reminders that goodness continues even when the larger world feels unstable.

• Gratitude is not pretending that everything is fine.
• It is training the mind to notice what it might otherwise overlook.
• It restores proportion: alongside what threatens us, there is also what sustains us.
• It makes kindness visible, and what becomes visible can become something we practise ourselves.

The important distinction is between toxic positivity and grounded gratitude.

Toxic positivity says, “Everything is good.”

Grounded gratitude says, “Not everything is good, but not everything is lost.”

Practice: Each evening, identify one thing that was difficult, one thing that was beautiful, and one person or circumstance that supported you.

3. You cannot control the world, but you can cultivate how you meet it

The essay opens with unusual October warmth, dry ground, and a depleted pond. Climate disruption becomes an example of how the familiar world can become unsettling.

The deeper challenge is that we often seek security by trying to make life predictable.

But much of life lies beyond our control.

• You cannot guarantee that tomorrow will be easy.
• You cannot eliminate uncertainty through constant worrying.
• You cannot prevent every loss, disappointment, or crisis.
• You can, however, practise how you respond to what arrives.

This is not passivity. It is a redirection of effort from impossible control towards meaningful action.

Core principle: Let go of the fantasy that you can control everything, without letting go of your responsibility to do what you can.

4. Hōnen’s insight: stop relying exclusively on your own strength

The author turns to Hōnen, the Japanese Buddhist teacher associated with Pure Land Buddhism.

In the essay, Hōnen’s historical world is filled with upheaval: civil unrest, earthquakes, floods, and fires. Amid this instability, he develops an emphasis on taking refuge in Amida Buddha and reciting the nembutsu.

The important philosophical shift is from self-power to Other Power.

• Self-power: The belief that spiritual liberation depends primarily on your own effort, discipline, ability, or achievement.
• Other Power: Reliance on the compassionate working of Amida Buddha, rather than assuming that your own abilities are sufficient.

This is specifically a Pure Land Buddhist teaching, not a universal Buddhist doctrine.

Its psychological resonance is nevertheless powerful: sometimes peace begins when we stop demanding that we be strong enough to handle everything alone.

You can take responsibility without believing that you must be entirely self-sufficient.

Reflection: Where am I exhausting myself by believing that everything depends on me?

5. The nembutsu: a practice of returning

The nembutsu is the recitation of Amida Buddha’s name, commonly expressed as Namu Amida Butsu.

In the essay, Amida is associated with infinite light and compassion.

The practice is not simply about repeating words. Within Pure Land traditions, it expresses faith, remembrance, and taking refuge in Amida’s compassion.

Its deeper practical lesson is the value of having something to return to when the mind becomes overwhelmed.

When anxiety takes over, when the news becomes unbearable, or when uncertainty makes everything feel unstable, a repeated prayer or sacred phrase can become an anchor.

Other traditions may use breath meditation, zazen, or centring prayer.

The specific practice matters, but so does the relationship you develop with it: returning, again and again, rather than expecting yourself never to become distracted or distressed.

Key insight: A spiritual practice is not necessarily something that removes difficulty. It can be something that helps you meet difficulty without being completely consumed by it.

6. Harmony Gassho: choose your way of being before the day chooses it for you

The morning practice

Bring your palms together in front of your heart, bow your head, breathe in moderately, and say “harmony” as you exhale. Remain still for one to three natural breaths.

This simple ritual establishes an intention before the demands of the day begin.

Harmony does not mean pleasing everyone, avoiding disagreement, or suppressing your needs.

It means attempting to meet people with cooperation, calmness, and patience.

The deeper idea is that your first reaction does not have to determine your final response.

• Someone speaks rudely; you pause before reacting.
• Plans change; you practise flexibility.
• A disagreement arises; you seek understanding before victory.
• You feel irritated; you notice the feeling without automatically acting on it.

The ritual is small, but repetition helps turn an abstract value into a lived habit.

Reflection: What would change if I began each morning by deciding how I want to treat people, rather than simply deciding what I want to accomplish?

7. Gratitude Gassho: recognise that your life is supported by countless things

The evening practice

Bring your palms together, bow, breathe gently, and say “gratitude” as you exhale. Rest for a few breaths and reflect on the day.

The essay describes gratitude as an awareness of interdependency.

Think about a single ordinary day:

• The food you eat depends on soil, water, sunlight, farmers, transport, and preparation.
• The language you speak was passed down through generations.
• Your knowledge rests partly on the discoveries and experiences of others.
• Your emotional life is shaped by people who have cared for you, taught you, challenged you, or simply been present.

Even independence rests on forms of support we rarely notice.

This is closely connected with the Buddhist teaching of dependent origination: things arise through conditions and relationships rather than existing in complete isolation.

Gratitude, then, is more than feeling pleased about something good.

It is a recognition that your life is not a solitary achievement.

That recognition can soften entitlement, reduce the illusion of total self-sufficiency, and deepen compassion for others.

8. Intention alone is not enough: build a ritual that carries it into action

One of the most practical ideas in the essay is the distinction between setting an intention and activating it.

You might intend to be patient, grateful, or compassionate. Yet under stress, familiar habits often take over.

The solution proposed here is to connect the intention to a repeatable behaviour.

Intention	Activating practice
I want to live harmoniously.	Morning Harmony Gassho
I want to recognise what supports me.	Evening Gratitude Gassho
I want to cultivate spiritual refuge.	Nembutsu, zazen, or centring prayer
I want to make the practice sustainable.	Attach it to breakfast or bedtime

This uses a simple behavioural principle: an existing routine can serve as a cue for a new habit.

The practice becomes less dependent on motivation. You do not need to remember to become mindful from scratch every day; you create a structure that reminds you.

The deeper lesson: Do not merely admire the person you want to become. Create small, repeatable actions that help you become that person.

9. Non-judgment is a form of inner freedom

The author advises readers not to judge people who follow different practices.

This has two dimensions.

Towards others: People have different temperaments, histories, beliefs, and needs. A practice that helps one person may not help another. Humility allows us to learn without insisting that our approach is the only valid one.

Towards ourselves: We often turn spiritual practice into another standard against which to condemn ourselves.

We become distracted during meditation and feel that we have failed. We forget gratitude and feel ungrateful. We lose patience and conclude that we have made no progress.

But practice is not proof that you are already peaceful. It is a way of learning to respond when you are not.

Non-judgment does not mean abandoning discernment or accepting harmful behaviour. It means responding without unnecessary condemnation.

Reflection: Can I notice my shortcomings honestly without turning them into a verdict on my entire character?

10. The journey itself is not merely a means to an end

The essay closes with a deceptively profound instruction:

“Don’t ever think you have arrived; keep going, keep going…”

We often treat inner peace as a destination. We imagine that one day we will become sufficiently wise, healed, disciplined, or spiritually developed that life will no longer disturb us.

But life continues to change, and our reactions continue to evolve.

There will be days when gratitude comes easily and days when it feels impossible. There will be moments of generosity and moments of impatience. The point is not to maintain a flawless state.

It is to keep returning to the values we wish to embody.

The journey is not a waiting room for a better version of life. The way we live today is already our life.

And the instruction to laugh matters. Spiritual seriousness without lightness can become another form of rigidity. Humour helps us recognise our limitations without being crushed by them.

A simple daily practice drawn from the essay

Morning — 2 minutes

Set the tone for the day.

Bring your palms together and bow gently.

Breathe out while silently saying “harmony.”

Choose one way to practise patience or kindness today.

Evening — 3 minutes

Reflect without judging yourself.

Bring your palms together and say “gratitude.”

Recall one beautiful moment, however small.

Recognise one person or circumstance that supported you.

Reset for tomorrow

You can adapt this to your own spiritual tradition. If you practise Pure Land Buddhism, you might include the nembutsu. If you practise Zen, you might sit quietly. If you are not religious, you can use the same structure as a mindful reflection.

The point is sincerity and consistency, not perfection.

The five deepest takeaways

• Hold both truths: suffering exists, and goodness continues to exist alongside it.
• Release total self-reliance: strength includes learning where to seek refuge and accept support.
• Train your attention: gratitude helps you see the network of life sustaining you.
• Turn values into rituals: intentions become meaningful when they shape repeated actions.
• Keep practising without demanding perfection: peace is not a permanent achievement but a way of returning to life.

The deepest message of the essay may be this: you do not need to wait for a calmer world to begin living with greater calmness, gratitude, and compassion. You can acknowledge the world’s pain, receive the good that remains, and participate in creating more goodness yourself.