Don’t Build your House on the Sand

This world that we inhabit is so changeable and uncertain. There certainly can be moments of beauty and ease in it, but these moments can quickly give way to times of pain, anxiety and despair. Things are changing all the time. In the Christian bible, we are urged to not build our house on the sand. I really like this metaphor, as I think it speaks to the unpredictable and shifting nature of our experience. I see the sand as referring to the unstable world that arises through the sense doors. Without practice, this is the world that captivates all our attention, and it is where we try to establish our residence. But this unstable world of changing experience is not our true home. The sand of shifting appearances is simply the path between birth and death that the mind traverses – not our true home. Our true home is the clear bright emptiness which lies behind this world of shifting sand.

I not only appreciate the metaphor because the image of unstable and shifting sands is an apt description of our experience in this uncertain world. I also like the nonjudgmental nature of it, in that it doesn’t condemn the sand or tell us not to walk on or experience it, but simply not to build our home there. As you traverse this path between birth and death, and you encounter something pleasing or enjoyable, you don’t have to shun it. Just don’t lie down in it. Don’t try to make your home in it because it is certain to shift and change. On the other hand, when you encounter the disagreeable, know that it too will shift and change. Know that it is not your true home, but only a sandy landscape that you are passing through. Don’t pay it too much mind.

Please don’t hear this as advocating a nihilistic or uncaring laissez faire life because that is not what I intend. While this does suggest adopting a degree of detachment toward the changing landscape traversed by consciousness, we should not detach ourselves from our fellow travelers through this realm of sand. It is not worth getting overly excited or agitated about the world we experience through the body and mind. It is simply sand being blown about by the wind of karma. But we should care deeply for the wellbeing of our fellow travelers – the countless other beings that are making this journey from birth to death with us and whose true home is also the same bright and clear emptiness that is our home. There are no foreigners or illegal immigrants in our midst. All beings without exception spring from, and return to, the same emptiness.

I believe that orienting ourselves in this way – developing equanimity towards, and not fixating on, the pleasant or unpleasant happenings in our lives, while at the same time cultivating and enacting lovingkindness, compassion, and sympathetic joy toward our fellow beings who are accompanying us in this journey – is the surest way to live an engaged and caring life without the burden of stress.

To do this, of course, we need to maintain mindfulness of this body and mind. We need a nonjudgmental observing awareness to watch over us and let us know when we’re trying to pitch our tent in the sand by attaching to these everchanging circumstances, or when we’re acting with malice or indifference toward our fellow travelers. Notice without judgment the houses built of concepts that thought erects to try to lay claim to a pleasant landscape, or that it builds to fend off that which is disagreeable to us. Step out of the thoughts and see the wanting or the aversion that lies behind them and the dukkha or stress that comes with it. Notice when the mind forms labels and concepts to justify a lack of concern or even ill will toward our fellow travelers. This requires continuity of practice and is not easy, but the development of mindfulness is so important. Mindfulness is our guardian. It keeps us safe, protects us from getting lost, and gently leads us back to the emptiness that is our home.

Michael Bresnan