I had the privilege of meeting Danu Poyner – curator and founder of Grokkist in late 2022. We immediately found common ground in a shared curiosity about life.  Our conversations circled around what it means to lead with curiosity and ethical imagination, at a time when Danu was articulating the deeper purpose for establishing the Grokkist platform.

Grokkist emerged as more than a platform – it is an intentional space for cultivating possibility.  A space where we consciously evolve our practice in response to what we learn about the world and one another.  As the Grokkist introductory page states – “We’re the curious, unconventional, multidimensional misfits who refuse to be reduced to just one thing”.

Danu and I continued the dialogue in a podcast titled: “One breath at a time”: daring life, mindfulness, and non-self - Lalith Gunaratne | S3E6

In that conversation, I reflected on growing up in Sri Lanka – raised in a Buddhist home, living in a Catholic neighborhood and shaped by an anglicized cultural inheritance.  At home we spoke Sinhala and English interchangeably, listened to Western music and lived comfortably within layers of contradiction in a society that spanned from the ancient to the modern, between poverty and affluence.

At home we spoke Sinhala and English interchangeably, listened to Western music and lived comfortably within layers of contradiction...

Those contradictions deepened when my family and I moved to Canada at age fourteen.  I encountered a socially oriented capitalism that seemed, at times, to live as though the separation between human and nature was unquestioned.  Yet I had been nurtured in an understanding of oneness with nature and the Buddhist insight into impermanence – the unsatisfactoriness and flux inherent in life – leading to the notion of “Non-Self”.   

I facilitated two Grokkist Symposiums, in October 2023 and November 2024, titled “Comfort in Contradiction” and this article is to elaborate and reflect on those two events two years hence.

Self: To be or not to be

Even as I grappled with the paradox of “Self” and “Non-Self”, introduced to me as a twelve year old by a Buddhist monk, I felt deeply attached to the person I inhabited – body, mind and identity – for the longest time.

That quiet tension – between material striving and existential inquiry – lived at the heart of my becoming. It has taken a lifetime to begin realizing the fleeting, constructed nature of what I once held so tightly as “Self”.

On one hand, I am unmistakably here – a citizen, a son, a partner, a parent, a brother, a friend, an educator, a business builder.   I make commitments, give my word and I show up.  There is a dignity in inhabiting this “selfdom”, fully and responsibly.

On the other hand, the deeper I look, the less solid this “I” appears. The Buddhist teaching of Anatta – “Non-Self” – is destabilizing and liberating at the same time: what I call “me” is not a fixed entity, but a constantly shifting constellation of processes.  

… what I call “me” is not a fixed entity, but a constantly shifting constellation of processes.  

When I meditate, reflect and look in the mirror, I can witness ‘my’ physical body changing.  In ‘my’ mind, feelings arise and go away; thoughts construct and deconstruct meanings; perceptions keep changing reframing reality; and consciousness flickers in and out of attention.  It is apparent there is no real permanent ‘Self’.

If there is no permanent “Self”, who exactly is the one making promises, building companies, loving, grieving, striving?

Here is the contradiction and the invitation to inquire.

The Conventional Self and the Ultimate View

In conventional reality, the self matters. Children depend on parents, and organizations rely on leadership. Communities function because individuals take responsibility.

To deny this level would be naïve.

Yet in ultimate reality, the Buddha invites us to examine this conventional experience carefully. What we call “Self” is better understood as ‘five aggregates’ (the physical body as form – and in the mind – feeling, perception, mental formations and consciousness) arising and passing in dynamic interplay.  None of them are stable, nor can they be permanently possessed or finally controlled.

Clinging to them as “I” or “mine” inevitably generates tension.

When my role shifts, I suffer.
When my body ages, I resist.
When my reputation changes, I defend.
When circumstances undermine my carefully constructed identity, I contract.

The suffering lies in the clinging – in the insistence that something inherently fluid should remain fixed.

Dependent Co-Arising: The web we cannot escape

The teaching of Paticca Samuppada – dependent co-arising – deepens this paradox. Everything arises in dependence upon conditions.

My sense of “Self” arises dependent on family, culture, language, education, memory, opportunity, trauma, success, failure.  Even my thoughts are not entirely “mine”.  They are conditioned by everything I have encountered.

When I cling to identity – as a Sinhala in race, Buddhist by religion, husband, father, leader, strategist, spiritual practitioner – I freeze what is inherently relational and dynamic.  I mistake a process for an essence.

When I cling to identity … I freeze what is inherently relational and dynamic.  I mistake a process for an essence.

Yet identity is an anchor.  It allows coordination and provides orientation.  

The problem is not identity itself.  The problem is unconscious identification, biases and attachments – which are hardened by my experiences.

Dependent co-arising shows us that when ignorance conditions craving, it conditions clinging, and clinging conditions becoming. This is the karmic momentum that perpetuates dissatisfaction and suffering.

Then the question is: How do I participate fully in life without becoming imprisoned by the story of “me”?

The tension as practice

Most of us try to resolve contradiction, as we need clarity, coherence and a stable narrative – an anchor.

What if spiritual maturity is about learning to find comfort in contradiction? 

To be comfortable in contradiction is to allow both truths to stand:

  • I am not ultimately a fixed self.
  • I honour my commitments but cannot control outcomes.
  • I cultivate excellence yet cannot guarantee results.

The Buddha offered liberation from clinging to “Self” by being comfortable in contradiction.

The bridge is the Noble Eightfold Path as a lived architecture based on Concentration (the practice), Wisdom (understanding the nature of the mind and life) and Ethics (the way to live with virtue). 

Right view, right intention, right speech, right action, and right livelihood arises out of right effort, right mindfulness, and right concentration.

Mindfulness reveals the arising and passing of experience. Concentration stabilizes attention long enough to see clearly. Wisdom emerges not from belief, but from direct observation. Virtue steadies us. Ethics prevent harm when identity tightens defensively.

Through Vipassana – insight inquiry – we begin to witness thoughts as thoughts, sensations as sensations, emotions as movements in the mind and body.  The solidity of “I” softens and space appears.

In that space, something subtle happens.  We still decide and act without clinging to a certain outcome.

The Modern Mind: Pulled in opposing directions

If this was challenging in ancient India, it is exponentially more difficult today.

Our minds are fragmented by distraction.  Attention is commodified.  Dopamine cycles reward short-term gratification over long-term depth.  The culture of acceleration leaves little room for stillness.

The mind is belligerent at times – reactive, defensive, self-protective.
At other times it is confused – overwhelmed by information.
Often it is seduced by quick pleasure – the easy scroll, the instant validation.

To sit still feels like swimming upstream.

Paradoxically, the only way to see through contradiction is to pause inside it – meditate – breathe and ‘observe’.

Paradoxically, the only way to see through contradiction is to pause inside it – meditate – breathe and ‘observe’.

Meditation is sitting quietly. We observe the tug-of-war: desire pulling forward, aversion pushing away, restlessness scattering attention.  We see how identity constantly reconstructs itself: “I am bored”, “I am restless”, “I am failing at meditation”.

Over time, something shifts.  The urge to solidify every experience into a narrative of “me” loosens. We become less entangled in the drama of our own self-construction.

This makes us lighter.

Leadership and the paradox of "Self"

In leadership – whether in business, family, or community – this paradox becomes even sharper.

A leader must project coherence – strategy must be articulated, decisions must be made and action must be taken.  People look for courage, clarity and direction.

Yet the wisest leaders know that certainty is provisional – as context shifts and the best laid out plans fail.  What felt true yesterday may require revision tomorrow.

Yet the wisest leaders know that certainty is provisional – as context shifts and the best laid out plans fail.

To cling rigidly to identity – “I am the visionary”, “I am the authority”, “I must be right” – is to fracture relationship.  To dissolve into passivity is equally unskillful.

The middle way is dynamic participation without egoic fixation.

Comfort in contradiction allows a leader to say:
“I stand here with conviction, and I remain open to being wrong.”
“I take responsibility, and I know I am part of a larger web of causes and conditions.”
“I act decisively, and I release the need to control every outcome.”

It is psychological and spiritual flexibility – which is courage to be comfortable in contradiction.  

Finding the flow in paradox

So how do we live skillfully between “Self” and “Non-Self”?

First, by acknowledging the tension rather than suppressing it.

Second, by practicing daily – consistently.  Even ten minutes of mindful attention begins to reveal impermanence directly.  We watch a breath arise and pass.  A sensation arise and pass.  A thought arise and pass.

Third, by aligning conduct with virtue.  When our actions are ethical, the mind is less agitated.  When speech is careful, regret diminishes.  When livelihood is aligned with values, fragmentation reduces.

Fourth, by remembering the wisdom of dependent co-arising.  Every interaction is relational and contextual.  Every moment arises from our conditioned reality and lived experience.

Gradually, we begin to inhabit a different posture toward life – participating with awareness.

The contradiction remains, but it no longer feels hostile.  It becomes creative tension.

Like a musical string, it must be neither too tight nor too loose.

The beauty of subtlety

Life’s beauty is in its subtlety. 

The paradox of “Self” and “Non-Self” is not meant to be solved.  It is meant to be lived. When we stop trying to eliminate contradiction, we begin to experience its richness.

When we stop trying to eliminate contradiction, we begin to experience its richness.

We can love deeply while knowing everything changes.
We can build institutions while knowing they will evolve or dissolve.
We can care for the body while knowing it ages and dies.
We can cultivate identity while knowing it is provisional.

This is freedom.

Comfort in contradiction does not erase suffering entirely, but it transforms our relationship to it.  We suffer less from resisting what is inherently fluid.

In that easing, something quiet emerges – a grounded presence that neither clings to “I” nor denies its functional necessity.

We become participants in a vast, interconnected unfolding with humility.

Perhaps this is the art of living: to stand firmly in our roles while knowing we take on different personas; to honour our commitments while recognizing their impermanence; to act wholeheartedly without getting caught up in our identity.

To sit, as it were, comfortably in contradiction.

Discovering that tension is doorway to wisdom.

Paradox as a path through political darkness

This reflection is not complete without addressing the current hardened realities and their relationship to contradiction.   

We are living in a political climate where depravity often masquerades as strength, where violence – whether physical, economic or rhetorical – is justified by fear, where greed, hatred and delusion are amplified by systems that reward division.  When identity hardens into ideology, when “Self” expands into tribe, nation or dogma, contradiction is no longer tolerated. It is attacked. 

The way through this turbulence is not greater certainty, by clinging to identity or a false sense of greatness, but a greater capacity to hold paradox.  

The way through this turbulence is not greater certainty, by clinging to identity or a false sense of greatness, but a greater capacity to hold paradox.  

It is to stand firmly for compassion and justice while refusing hatred. We engage in power without becoming consumed by it.  

Through mindful awareness, we may see clearly how fear conditions craving, craving conditions clinging and clinging conditions the very conflicts we lament. 

Learning to live skillfully in contradiction, individually and collectively, may be one of the most subtle, subversive and hopeful acts of our time.  

For when we loosen the grip of rigid identity, our fears will soften. As fear softens, the impulses toward greed, hatred and delusion lose their fuel. 

In that softening, even amid disorder, we may rediscover trust – trust that human consciousness can mature, that wisdom can temper power and that better days for humanity are not guaranteed, but are possible when we learn to inhabit paradox without violence.

Walking the talk for peace

I conclude this article by honoring the nineteen Buddhist monks who walked quietly and resolutely with Aloka the dog – from Texas to Washington, D.C. – a living embodiment of comfort in contradiction.  They walked in peace with courage and presence – awakening so many – celebrating with compassion and non-violence when the world seemed outraged and aggressive.

Their pilgrimage was not protest in the conventional sense.  It was practice made visible. Step after step, breath after breath, they demonstrated that peace is not an abstraction, nor a slogan, nor a strategy – it is a discipline of being.  They walked through heat, cold, fatigue, uncertainty and difference without collapsing into hostility. They did not deny suffering; they refused to amplify it.

In their silent determination, we witnessed what it means to act without hatred, to stand for justice without dehumanizing, to move through contradiction without hardening identity.  They reminded us that transformation does not always begin in legislatures or battlefields.  Sometimes it begins with a single mindful step, taken together.

May their journey continue to echo in us.  May we learn to walk our own terrain – political, personal, collective – with that same steadiness of heart. 

May we remember that even in times marked by fear and division, peace is still possible – one breath, one step, one courageous act of non-clinging to “Self” – by walking the talk and celebrating “comfort in contradiction”.