Religious philosophers and political philosophers differ in where they locate the obstacles to living a life that's free. Religious folk locate obstructions internally and political philosophers tend to think there are primarily external barriers to freedom. And whether you locate the problem inside or outside, there's also this human nature question about what kind of person is it that we're dealing with. Is our nature intrinsically fallen as in this kind of internal model? Is who we are defined by desire or by reason? Where you posit the so called problem, and how you reckon human nature, will shape the types of solutions you think are necessary to live a life that's free.

One approach to practice offers, as a goal, a picture of pure autonomy and imperturbability in response to the vicissitudes of life. It says that, because impermanence is inescapable, we should try not to hold on to anything. In contrast, our practice is about recognizing the inescapability of vulnerability, attachment, and dependence. The willingness to enter into relationships, to depend on others, and be vulnerable reflects the understanding that the wholeness of our selves and our lives is inseparable from our buddha nature. We are learning to experience the uncontrollability of life and be willing to say in each moment of it, "that's me."

Whereas the enlightenment of the eighteenth century saw conceptual thought and reason as a solution to all problems, Buddhism takes a diametrically opposed view. Buddhism seemed to see reason as the source of a lot of trouble and entanglement. In his book, Freedom and its Betrayal, Isaiah Berlin will take up a group of enlightenment thinkers and show how a particular ideal - reason or even liberty itself - when taken to an extreme can turn into its opposite. In our particular lineage we experienced something similar with Joko Beck declaring that enlightenment, and our faith in it, stopped being part of the solution and eventually became part of the problem. It's not a complete substitute for politics. It's not a complete substitute for therapy. It's not a complete substitute for any number of ways of examining and changing the way we are in the world.

In 1952 at the height of the cold war the BBC offered a philosophy professor named Isaiah Berlin the opportunity to give six hour long lectures on the radio. He spoke extemporaneously and chose as his theme "Freedom and its betrayal." He was interested in how the ideal of liberty so quickly turned into its opposite and how the greatest tyrants often started out as the greatest liberators. How do we understand tyranny and freedom in practice and our lives?

Barry speaks about the tragic death of friend and colleague Jeremy Safran. What does practice offer in the face of tragic unexpected loss? This practice must mean we're prepared to face the full reality of chance in our lives, change in our lives, and the complete lack of control we have over life and death.

Buddhist compassion is typically thought of as a feeling. A warm sense of positive regard. Sometimes it's extended to be an appropriate response - appropriate in the sense of helping someone to awaken. Some traditions have metta practices that involve wishing ourselves and others well. Empathy however is something much different. It's sometimes misunderstood as "feeling what the other person is feeling." The problem is that this starts with an assumption of sameness - I can feel what you're feeling. Psychoanalytic empathy starts with an assumption of difference - prompting one to ask - what does the world look like to this other person. It's an attempt to see and feel things from a different vantage point than your own that's equally valid.