At the end of most of my meditation classes, there’s time for people to ask questions about the dharma talk, meditation in general, or their own practice. A few weeks ago a gentleman raised his hand and said something like, “I’ve been meditating for many years. I’ve been on lots of retreats and know lots of teachers. I mean, I know even their lives aren’t perfect. I sometimes ask myself, why am I doing this again? What’s the point?”

I consider it a great fortune that I discovered the teachings on the Ten Perfections early on in my Buddhist explorations. Even before my sitting practice deepened and developed over time, reflecting on this list of ten qualities gave me a quite vivid picture of what would be asked of me, and what the fruits of those labors might be. I love that each quality is simultaneously something we cultivate for our own discipline and well-being, that then naturally flows outward for the benefit of others.

As we move through the change of seasons this time of year, we can’t help but become attuned to the swiftly-moving, ephemeral nature of life. It’s the natural progression of things, after all. We observe the turning of the world on its axis, and the arising and ceasing of everything around us. Events in our families, towns, nations and world continue to unfold, filled typically with equal parts joy and sorrow. All messengers of impermanence.

When we engage in metta practice, often the hardest and most transformative part is befriending the difficult people in our lives. Difficult people are those who trigger the need to protect or defend ourselves, the “I and the mine.” Sometimes it’s an individual person or a whole group of people, but behind the difficulty is typically a set of conditions. What does the person or group of people represent in the story we tell ourselves? What’s behind the “othering” that goes on in our minds? We can use this investigation as a skillful means for transforming our understanding and growing compassion.

In much of the Northern Hemisphere, all we need to do is look out the window right now to experience the beauty of change. The air is crisp, the mosquitos have wound down their annual season of assault, and the leaves are showing off their glorious fall colors. Perhaps it’s because we have a lifetime’s worth of evidence that spring will come again that we can ease into these seasonal changes. So how do we bring this same sense of ease to the changes that are not so predictable or so pleasant?

With Thanksgiving and family holiday car trips right around the corner, we’re pulling this lesson in mindfulness out of the vault from 2012. May it serve you well!