Milarepa, a renowned Tibetan meditation practitioner and Buddhist teacher who lived from 1052 to 1135, once shared insightful wisdom through a vivid metaphor. He said that chasing thoughts is like a dog running after a stick every time it is thrown, while instead, we should be like a lion who faces the stick thrower directly because people only throw a stick at a lion once. This metaphor provides a powerful image to illustrate how our minds often operate.
Our minds often act like dogs, mindlessly chasing every thought that pops up. This behavior is quite automatic—we see a thought, and we latch onto it, dissecting and mulling it over, much like a dog with a stick. In meditation, despite our efforts to quiet the mind, it’s common for thoughts to arise. While we try to meditate, parts of our brain are still on the lookout for potential threats.
Usually, if there are no immediate threats, our brain starts rifling through past memories or future plans to find something worrisome. This can lead to reliving past painful encounters or anticipating future events with dread. A simple thought can quickly morph into a dramatic scenario in our minds. Buddhism refers to this as “prapañca,” or mental proliferation.
On the other hand, our minds can also be like lions. When a lion sees a stick (a thought) flying by, it doesn’t chase it. Instead, it turns to face the thrower, letting the thought pass without being distracted by it. The lion recognizes the attempt to distract it and remains curious about who is trying to manipulate it. In Buddhist terms, the stick thrower represents Māra, a mythological personification of distraction, the mental trickster aiming to throw us off balance.
If you’ve never tried to confront the stick thrower, it might feel unnatural at first. To get started, picture the qualities of a lion—its steady gaze, low growl, strength, and fearlessness. Let these attributes fill your mind and body as you observe your mental space. It can be quite empowering.
During meditation, after noticing my mind chasing thoughts a few times, I sometimes turn my attention to the source of these thoughts. I observe it, waiting to see what happens next. I even challenge Māra, saying things like, “Come on, Māra. Show me what you’ve got.” Then I watch with lion-like strength, confidence, and courage, feeling these qualities in my body too.
It’s important to remember that these thoughts are illusions, not real events that need immediate action. They are just mental fabrications. After watching a few thoughts pass by, my inner dog might resurface, and I must remind myself to summon my inner lion again and face the stick thrower.
When I catch myself being fooled by these thoughts, I acknowledge Māra’s cleverness and ask what else he has in store. This practice helps me maintain a sense of awareness and strength in the face of distractions.
Social media and technology might be Māra’s greatest modern-day tools, designed to hook into our brain’s reward system and keep us constantly distracted. Understanding this can help us approach our digital habits with more mindfulness and intentionality.