Refuge From The Storm

"Until enlightenment, I go for refuge to the Buddha, the Dharma, and the Sangha..."

In Buddhism, "taking refuge" is a foundational concept. We recite these lines repeatedly - often throughout the day. But what do they mean?

Today, I got a great lesson in refuge from my dog. She's afraid of storms, and with any hint of thunder, she launches at me like flypaper, sticking with a persistence that is impressive. If I get up and go to the restroom, she is on my heels, and sitting under my feet. If I am sitting on the couch, her preferred position is on my lap. She will, with much encouragement, settle for immediately next to me, or wrapped around my shoulders like a winter scarf. She is relentless.

She is convinced, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that I have the power to protect her from the storms. In her mind, a tornado could come roaring through our house, and as long as she is with me, she will live through it. (To be fair, the photo here is of another pup who shares similar faith in me.)

Of course, their faith is misplaced. If our home were destroyed, I would not be immune to the dangers faced by the other beings in it. Upon tornado warnings, we all trundle to the basement, hiding in the bathroom tub like those clowns you see in the car at the circus. (HOW many will fit in that tiny space?)

But, it got me thinking - that to which we hold when things are difficult, that to which we retreat - that is our refuge. When times are easy, the words may be easy "I go for refuge...". But what do we do when times are hard? To whom and what do we turn? Do we drink until we're numb and take refuge in the bottle? Do we cling to our loved ones and place our sole refuge in them (who are just as unable to "protect" us from harm as I an unable to protect my dogs)? Do we crawl into bed and refuse to emerge for hours and sometimes days or weeks?

Or, do we go to the Dharma, the Sangha, the Buddha? Do we ask ourselves what applies to prevent our minds from being mired in the afflictive emotions that rise during difficult times? Do we call or write a teacher or friend who is from our Dharma Center and discuss the conundrum we're saddled with? Do we practice actively in our lives, applying the study and work we do when things are rosier? Do we stay present through the difficulties, fully and completely in the moment?

In times of happiness and times of sorrow, and even times in-between, that to which we consistently turn is our refuge. A constructively critical self-assessment of what/who we take refuge in can really aid us in our practice.

What do you take refuge in?