Working with “don’t-want mind”
In the Zen tradition there is a very useful teaching called “don’t-know mind.” The idea is to soften our habitual tendency to go through life thinking we’ve got things more or less figured out. When we practice don’t-know mind, we learn to relax our assumptions, our expectations, and to open into a state of mind that is more curious and humble — almost childlike. When we attune to the deep uncertainty that pervades our experience, we find that things begin to appear fresh and vibrant. What was once stagnant begins to drift and flow. We feel lighter, more playful. It is a wonderful teaching.
These days I have been thinking about a related concept which I have been calling “don’t-want mind.” Unlike don’t-know mind, don’t-want mind is not something to cultivate. Rather, it’s something to become aware of — something that is likely already there as a deeply ingrained feature of how we react to our experience.
The phrase “don’t-want mind” came to me when I was doing intensive metta practice in daily life. I began to notice how often my experience was full of various forms of aversion, which is the opposite of metta. Sometimes these were conscious episodes of aversion, the sort of thing where I might say out loud “I don’t want to do that.” But more often they were not fully conscious, and certainly not verbal. It was just a latent tendency to clench against, to push away, to ignore, to avoid, to wish things were otherwise. Some part of the mind was constantly resisting reality. If this part of the mind could speak, it would be saying, “Don’t want. Don’t want. Don’t want.”
Feeling sleepy? Don’t want. Something not working the way it should? Don’t want. Social awkwardness? Stressed out? Too hot outside? Don’t want, don’t want, don’t want.
I have found it incredibly valuable in my practice to explore this aspect of the mind, almost treating it as a kind of grumpy character who’s always sulking around and complaining. It takes some of the heaviness out of the experience. Instead of being taken over by aversion, I can simply note, Ah, don’t-want mind. And then I can send it love and compassion.