On Meeting a Giant at Absolute Bagels

If we desire peace in the face of anger, we have no choice but to accept all that we have and all that comes our way. This includes, what I call, the “giants” within us. 

Giants embody what is ancient. They are primordial forces, and they disrupt our culture, our being, and our social order. 

The three forces of greed, anger, and delusion have been around since the beginning of human time, and when dealing with them, it is helpful to realize that these giants are not personal—they’re simply energies that exist through life itself. 

Just take our cat, Bodhidharma Burrito. He gets scared, wants things, gets confused—just like us. Yet here we are beating ourselves up for having these energies and feelings that every living being has. That’s a delusion. It’s not our fault that we have these energies, but it is up to us to take responsibility for how they impact us and our relationships when the giants take over.

I was in Absolute Bagels—a wonderful New York bagel shop run by a group of Buddhists from Thailand—when a tall, muscular guy came in yelling, “Who is going to give me a bagel?” He looked kind of unhinged and probably struggling with some kind of mental illness.

Everyone in the shop looked rather afraid, but the person behind the counter leaned over and said, “Hello, sir. I will make you a bagel.” He said so gently, “How would you like your bagel?”

The man barked, “Cream cheese and tomato on a poppy seed bagel!” 

Then, calm and collected, the worker made the bagel, wrapped it up nicely, and handed it to the man.

The guy said, “This is cold, what the hell is wrong with you? Breakfast is supposed to be hot!”

Everyone around was like, ugh, how ungrateful, how unkind, and my friend behind the counter said, “Oh, I’m so sorry. You’d like it toasted.”

This man said, “Yes, I’d like it toasted! Of course, it’s supposed to be toasted.” 

So my friend remade the bagel, wrapped it up nicely, and gave it to him.

The man ripped open the paper the bagel came in, shoved the food in his mouth, and yelled, “This is delicious!” 

Suddenly his energy shifted. He swallowed, and his body relaxed a bit, and he said, “I’m sorry that I was so rude. I was just so hungry.”

The man behind the counter looked at him, smiled, and said, “I hope you enjoy the rest of your bagel,” and the bagel-loving man left.

Our anger, which is like a little snowball, can become an avalanche. This is what happened with this man, and, at times, this is what happens with us all. 

In this case, it was my friend’s kindness in not taking things personally that turned the event around. It was through the medicine of generosity that he was able to tend to this giant.

It’s so important to slow down and to learn how to address anger in a new way. Meeting fire with fire is usually not skillful.

Healthy Embarrassment Is a Place of Practice

This act of choosing compassion—and therefore acceptance over fear—is something I like to call healthy embarrassment.

This is not embarrassment at the existence of the giants within us but an embarrassment at the fact that we have made the choice to cooperate with them.

When we see the giants in ourselves, we can be paralyzed by shame and fear. Many of us do this, but this is not helpful. When we see these giants, we instead need to realize that they are not personal. These giants are simply a fact of life, and just like that man at Absolute Bagels, everyone, including ourselves, deserves compassion. 

When confronting our giants, we must consider both external and internal compassion. External compassion starts when we recognize this giant in others and say, “Oh yeah, you too? We’re in this together.” Similarly, internal compassion begins when we recognize this fact of life in ourselves and choose acceptance and generosity instead of fear. 

Years ago, while in college, I decided to go on a semester-long trip and travel across the country with the American historian Douglas Brinkley. I was studying American Beat poets and history, and I was so excited that I failed to consider the impact my plans might have on my then-lover, Tony. 

Meeting fire with fire is usually not skillful.

I was caught by the giant of greed. My excitement was natural, but I failed to consider Tony’s feelings.

I completely abandoned him for three months, not checking in once. Later, when I realized what I’d done, I felt so much shame. I had thought of myself as a dependable, caring, and thoughtful partner, but my actions suggested otherwise. I needed to confront the fact that I had acted badly and hurt someone I loved, even in the face of shame.

Yet, at that time, I wasn’t ready to face my giant with healthy embarrassment, and my shame spiral went like this: We got in a huge fight, and both of us felt disconnected and pissed. Then, I felt terrible for causing harm. My image of myself as a loving, caring person crumbled. So I worked extra hard writing cards, ordering star lilies, and leaving desperate loving voice messages, all to try to reinstate my crumbled “nice person” self. This left me feeling like a victim, desperately trying to build back my Humpty Dumpty self. It didn’t repair the relationship. Since that time, I’ve worked to cultivate the joy of a healthy embarrassment as opposed to the fear of toxic shame. The existence of these giants is nothing to be embarrassed of.

It’s good to be embarrassed when we do things that betray our own ethics and values because we are possessed by these giants. That’s what they do—they compel us when we are possessed by these energies. Then our values go out the window.

Buddha spoke of healthy embarrassment when he discussed what he called “the two bright qualities that protect the world.” These are hiri (moral shame) and ottappa (fear of consequences).

The first, hiri, is what I’m talking about. As described by the scholar-monk Bhikkhu Bodhi, hiri is rooted in self-respect. This is not the type of shame that causes suffering, deception, or self-loathing. Hiri is the shame that someone with self-respect feels when they think about cooperating with a giant or realize that they have been in the thrall of one.

To confront this giant, we need to be curious about this feeling of embarrassment instead of being afraid of it. These giants are just doing what they do. Greed, anger, and delusion are just being themselves.

When we think we’re not supposed to feel them, it means we’re not supposed to be in the world. And this work is about being in the world—along with the giants, witches, unicorns, and abyss that are part of it. 

A Practice: Meet Your Giants

We live in a world with giants, and they will be around much longer than we’ll be, but we have a choice about how we will relate to these energies. When they possess us, a healthy sense of embarrassment can help us take responsibility and recalibrate.

Is there a giant, something you’ve been running from, that might be better to embrace with a sense of healthy embarrassment? Can you allow yourself to be an imperfect human and then move toward greater intimacy, ready to try to meet the giant differently next time?

The next time you find yourself in a state of embarrassment, take a moment to ask yourself, “How can this embarrassment be good news? How can it teach me something essential and good for my relationships?”

How do giants show up in your life? Can you call up a time you have experienced healthy embarrassment? How are you being receptive to learning from what is outsize and embarrassing? May you face all your giants with curiosity and compassion.

♦

Adapted from a piece that was originally published in Koshin Paley Ellison’s newsletter “Slow Down. Help Out. Wake Up.”