Last week I wrote about how perhaps we should not be trying to make sense of what’s happening. Up next is the September roundup and I’ll be kicking off a series that explores neurodivergence, cptsd, hormones, and addiction. This week, we’re looking for your questions about ADHD and Addiction.
From Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind1, Shunryu Suzuki talks about four kinds of people horses:
It is said that there are four kinds of horses: excellent ones, good ones, poor ones, and bad ones. The best horse will run slow and fast, right and left, at the driver’s will, before it sees the shadow of the whip; the second best will run as well as the first one does, just before the whip reaches its skin; the third one will run when it feels pain on its body; the fourth will run after the pain penetrates to the marrow of its bones. You can imagine how difficult it is for the fourth one to learn how to run!
His basic point is that excellent people horses aren’t better or worse than bad people horses; but notes the worst horse might find more meaning in their practice or life, or even develop more because of their struggle.
Pema Chödrön talks about the worst horse in a few places and most notably, in her book The Wisdom of No Escape2, points out that all the venerated teachers of the Karma Kagyü lineage of Tibetan Buddhism (the lineage in which she is trained) were worst horses; real disasters; people who “blew it time and time again.” Tilopa was a madman, Milarepa was a murderer, Naropa was overly intellectual and stubborn, Marpa flew into rages and beat people, and Gampopa was arrogant. If you aren’t familiar with any of these names or this lineage of Buddhism, these are the wise ones; the ones “to whom we prostrate when we do prostrations.”
I first read about the worst horse thing in 2021 and I’ve returned to the the concept often because I am a worst horse. The pain has to penetrate to the marrow of my bones; I’ve been known to blow it time after time; I can be a real disaster.
Over the years, a majority of the letters I’ve received are from other worst horses. People that keep trying and making the same mistakes; people who find living more difficult than the rest; people in recovery who wonder when they will have achieved some sense of completion; people who ask why they have to do all this bullshit work other people don’t seem to have to do. They are asking me the same questions I have. When is it enough? When can I stop? When does it get easier? When is it less messy? When do I become an excellent horse?
I don’t know the answer to those questions. I could guess and probably come up with some great sounding answers, but the truth is I don’t know when it gets easier. I don’t know when we feel grown up. I don’t know why it’s harder for some of us. I don’t know when it gets less messy.