Pema Chodron, a Buddhist nun and writer, calls it shenpa, which she defines as “….the urge, the hook, that triggers our habitual tendency to close down. We get hooked in that moment of tightening when we reach for relief. To get unhooked we begin by recognizing that moment of unease and learn to relax in that moment.” Life calls it just-being-life. I have other names for the moments the hooks are on the wind heading toward me.
Lately, I’ve had a lot of reminders about the dangers of catching hooks. I’m amazed that I can feel so calm and happy-go-lucky one moment, then trip over a hook into a caldron of spinning fear or defensiveness the next. Then again, we’re wildly vulnerable creatures, prone to easy breakage but, luckily enough, full recovery in ways we can barely grasp.
Growing up with a father who an expert hook-thrower, I learned early how to catch every hook whether I had to squat down or leap up suddenly. Then I learned how not to reach out my unprotected hand for what wouldn’t serve my spirit or actually help anyone. The art of not grabbing the hook isn’t as simple as ducking or turning away. It entails deeply considering how to respond or not respond to someone who is determined to cast you as an evil force or powerless victim in his/her fast-moving and fairly dramatic narrative. What complicates clear thinking and meeting the situation with tenderness and curiosity is the habitual going-to-the-races responses most of us have honed to perfection.
I recently saw a cartoon of three fish swimming around a hook. One fish is saying to the other, “The secret is non-attachment.” That’s a shenpa cartoon: the secret is—don’t bite that hook. If we can catch ourselves at that place where the urge to bite is strong, we can at least get a bigger perspective on what’s happening. As we practice this way, we gain confidence in our own wisdom. It begins to guide us toward the fundamental aspect of our being—spaciousness, warmth and spontaneity.
So as I swim through today, I try to not bit the hook. Fortunately, I have chicken enchiladas in my future to bit into instead.