It was never a surprise to me that the Buddha included Right Effort as one of the limbs of his Noble Eightfold Path. To get anywhere one has to apply effort (even for simple tasks like popping out to the corner shop). However, I come from a background where the Protestant work ethic is held in the highest regard and I think my idea of effort has often hindered my progress on the spiritual path as well as supported it. Why? Well, beneath my ready acceptance of the need for 'sweat and toil' in the spiritual life lie a host of demons fed and nourished on darker feelings such as guilt and unworthiness. On closer inspection my motives for effort are often as much a means to silence these lurking critics as to benefit myself through love.

How can I purify my effort and grow? One answer to this question is to think of Right Effort having two sides to its character, rather like two sides of the same coin. As much as effort implies activity (which I've never questioned) its positive counterpart is one of receptivity; as much as I am active in leading the spiritual life then I need to be receptive and appreciate the subtle shifts occurring in and around me as I slowly change.

However, in my experience receptivity is often much more difficult to practice than activity, particularly when in an anxious state. Faced with a painful pause in conversation, for example, my tendency might be to jump in immediately with whatever comes to mind instead of remaining quiet, open and receptive to the next phase of the discussion. As such, lack of receptivity can tend to smother any creative response to a situation and instead leave in its place a trail of re-activity which is just habitual response to the painful experience of life (viz-a-viz dukkha).

How might one become more receptive? A good working ground is meditation because here we can try out new ideas and approaches first-hand within the confines of our own experience. In metta bhavana, for example, I try to sit in an open and receptive space and wait for something or nothing to happen after I have wished someone well. In anxious or bored states such a pause in activity is often very uncomfortable and it feels much easier to remain active, constantly well wishing (in a rather parrot like fashion) and never watching my response. The more distracted I am the harder receptivity is to develop and yet, paradoxically, I feel that any effort to do so at these times really transform my deepest ingrained habits for the good. Some lines from TS Eliot's Four Quartets provide a clue to this process,

'...be still, and wait without hope. For hope would be hope for the wrong thing...there is yet faith. But the faith and the love and the hope are all in the waiting. Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought. So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing.'