Powerlessness

One of the important bits of my learning about recovery from alcoholism was discovering that I had to accept that I was completely powerless over alcohol.


That learning was extended into the areas in my life where I needed to change; I discovered that I was powerless over everything that needed to change in me - starting with my attitude.


I learned that I couldn't just discard old patterns of thinking or behaviour. And it was the same with everything that kept me trapped in my sleepwalk through life. Giving attention to something I wanted to be rid of served only to give that thing more power. Renouncing or denying something in me kept me tied to it.


Negating something only made it more real. Fighting too only gave it more power. 


It was only by conceding that I was completely powerless that I began to slip loose of those crippling ways of being and behaving. I began to live the saying that I had heard often: "The only way to win is to quit fighting, to accept defeat." Then when I observed my defects of character or my wrong thinking, I did just that - I observed and accepted them as being part of me. And slowly their power diminished. By concentrating more on the solution, the problem grew smaller.

Life is hard ...

Then you die.


One of those times when I can truthfully say that I got the T-shirt (had it, actually).


This had the most impact on me when I read the opening of Scott Peck's The Road Less Travelled. After saying that "life is difficult" he went on to point out that this applies to everybody except those people who accept that life is difficult. For those people, the acceptance of life being difficult makes it easier. The only snag in possessing that knowledge was trying to live that way - at the time pretty much every event in my life seemed to make me angry and discontented.


The statements have their origin in the saying by the Buddha, the first of the four Noble Truths of Buddhism - Life is suffering. In the second Noble Truth, the Buddha also taught the causes of suffering: Greed and desire; ignorance or delusion; and hatred and destructive urges. This gives us behaviour to watch out for as we observe ourselves.


It was in the translation, though, that I learned the most. The Buddha used the word Dukkha, which is translated as suffering. It refers to dislocation and is often exampled as an axle not quite fitting a wheel, being dislocated. I could relate that to my lack of ease and serenity when life seemed to beset me with problems all the time. I began to look at "me" being dislocated from reality and I could see how my thinking got me to the wrong place (a literal reading of dis-location) making me believe that my life would be better if it were different. Of course, railing at the unfairness of life is a sure way to misery; it quickly gives way to one of the causes of suffering listed.


The answer for me then lies in acceptance: Can I accept this place, person or thing being exactly as it should be at this moment? Answering yes leads to serenity, no to suffering.


There is a story of a master walking with his pupils in beautiful countryside where the most striking sight is the most beautiful trees studded across the landscape. One student notices a tree that is twisted and stunted, growing from a crack in the path and comments that it is not as big and beautiful and it is a shame that it grew there. The master replied "No, that tree is growing exactly where it is supposed to be."

Four steps to wisdom

A straight lift from De Mello: In Awareness, he describes these four steps as the most important - crucial even - part of his message. He is clear that we have to master this in order to get in touch with our awakened state. In one way, it will be familiar to those who have followed the Twelve-Step programme of AA, which highlights the part played by selfishness and self- seeking in our unhappiness and in our restlessness and resentments.


The four steps are:

1. Get in touch with your negative feelings
2. Understand that these feelings are in you; they are in your mind and are not real
3. Stop identifying with these feelings
4. Change things by changing yourself

Mark Houston - a man who helped me enormously with his lived wisdom  - used to say "It's easier to wear slippers than to carpet the whole world." 


This highlights my powerlessness over external events and over other people. The little power I have needs to be exerted over me, by concentrating on my unreal view of the world. Today, when I am irritable and discontent, I ask myself "What have I done?" The answer to that question liberates me from the perceived suffering or unhappiness.

Obstacles to happiness

The process of waking up - of being alive to the here and now- starts with me being aware of what I am doing, what I am saying and how I am acting. Becoming aware of what I'm thinking, what I'm feeling and what my motives are. When I became reasonably skilled at doing these things I began to see things happening to me as if they were happening to somebody else.

The first benefit of having this small space between me and what was happening to me was a greater acceptance of how life treats me. The second benefit was an ability to dis-identify with what had seemed to be the important things in life - putting distance between me and what I had viewed as success (getting what we think of as good in our lives).

Now we want to succeed in many things - like our careers for example - but if "me" identifies with that, links my happiness to my success then I have created a source of worry and potential for unhappiness. The same thing applies to relationships, sports, hobbies and interests ... I don't avoid them or engage with them any less but I stop identifying "me" being a success with my being successful at any of these things. If I can stop identifying with the label of success, then many of my worries stop.

If somebody I know succeeds at something, I can feel good for them. But it doesn't affect what I think of them. So I try to apply the same principle to myself. What I might achieve doesn't make me a better person - nor does failing make me a worse person. What I do or do not achieve doesn't then affect my opinion of "me."

Working on this removes opportunities to worry and from that comes a happiness that is most probably just the absence of unhappiness.

Peeling the onion?

I've lost track of the times I have heard people refer to their spiritual journey as peeling away the layers of an onion to reveal the next one. For all I know I might have said it myself some time in the past.


But what if we peel away the layers  to get to the essence of an onion ... only to discover that the layers were what the onion was all about.


Borrowed shamelessly from a Wittgenstein quote. And neatly parallel to the John Lennon quote

Life is what happens to you  while you're busy making other plans

The lesson for me is that I don't need to analyse my life and look for meaning in it or have plans and schemes to map out a future for me that suits my needs. I just live the life I have ... as it happens, moment by moment, breath by breath.

Fear

It seems a commonly held view that all the bad things done in this world can be traced back to somebody acting out of fear. I needed to let that thought sit with me for some time.

Fear is undoubtedly at the bottom of most of what bothers us. It keeps me ignorant and makes me angry - mostly because I'm afraid of losing something or a fear of not getting something I think I should get.

The worst kind of fear is irrational fear - when I start to become afraid of what my mind tells me is threatening me. It is always nagging and insistent. And the more I looked at my fear, I discovered that most of it can be seen to be irrational.

Of course, there are things we should rightly fear - a gun-wielding maniac, for one. But I should only be afraid if he is here, now; never should I be afraid that I might meet one. It makes sense that I should avoid fear of future events at all costs. The Dalai Lama has good advice for anybody who worries: if it's a thing you can do something about then do something rather than worry; if you cannot do anything about it then relax because you cannot do anything.

But how to deal with fear? There's some self-help advice that says "face the fear" and carry on regardless. I found that easier said than done (which has been a common experience with many self-help maxims, by the way).

The good news is that I have found that fear responds to observation and awareness. When I see what is happening in my mind, I can see how irrational my fear usually is. It helped when I observed that I was often equally afraid of opposite outcomes of the one event - which underlined how irrational I was being.

Meditation

First to say, I didn't get where I am today by not doing meditation. Not much of authority on it - but hope I can illuminate the subject a little by my own experiences.


First, to get a picture of what meditation is all about, here's a simple exercise: Just sit still in a comfortable position and for 30 seconds empty your mind of all thoughts.


Before I go on I would just like to say to those people who didn't do what was suggested there. You might like to ask yourself what aspect of your conditioned self is in charge here. Did you assume you knew the outcome? Did you decide it was beneath you? Or did you just think that you could get by without doing it and reading about it? Its an opportunity to observe yourself in what just happened when you sleepwalked past an opportunity to learn.


Of course, the exercise is designed to be impossible. Two things are going on here: the first is that it is impossible to stop one's thoughts as they just keep coming; second, meditation isn't a goal-oriented activity. The best way to approach meditation I have found is to do it in order to do it - nothing more. 


So thoughts will come whenever we meditate. Sometimes they seem to disappear completely when I enter what's best described as a "deeper" state. 


Here's an exercise (just 30 seconds again): Just sit still in a comfortable position and picture a stream with water flowing past. Notice there are leaves floating in the stream; follow them as they float past.


Now repeat the exercise but this time notice the leaves and let them float away out of vision. Notice the difference: 


We apply the same principle to our thoughts. For a minute this time, sit and let your thoughts come and just let them go. It will probably be difficult but as you persist it will become easier.


There are techniques we can apply: The two most commonly recommended are concentration on the breath and using a mantra.


Following the breath is a very common Buddhist technique. It involves following the breath in through the nose and into the body. As a start point (and the technique I always come back to) sit quietly and breathe in feeling the breath go through the nose and into the body; try to be aware of its progress all the way in. Then breathe out and count "one." Repeat this until you get to twelve and then start again at one. Notice two things happening. At some time your breathing will slow. Do not try for this just notice it. Then, inevitably, thoughts will intrude: you will find yourself thinking and not counting. Go back to the breath and start counting again - start at one, don't try to remember where you left off. How long should you do this for? I don't know. Twenty minutes is often quoted as a time to aim for but don't get too hung up about the time. Like every exercise it will "improve" with practice.


The other technique involves the repetition of a mantra. I have used two which are commonly available and the Transcendental Meditation mantra I was given but I gave my word not to give it to anybody else (although these mantras seem to be widely available on the internet).
From a Christian tradition we have the word Maranatha (which means the Lord is coming or with us). We use the first syllable as we breathe in, second as we breathe out, and so forth. Each syllable is silent, said just below the level of speaking it. And, if thoughts come or we stop the mantra, we just start again.


The Mantra of Compassion, OM MANE PADME HUM (pronounced Om Mani Paymay Hung) will be well-know to old hippies. It is said as a prayer for compassion* to all beings but can be said for any individuals. The whole mantra is said (just under audibility) on each breath in and out. If thoughts come or the mantra disappears, the we return to the mantra. For me, the added dimension of actively sending compassionate thoughts makes this particularly satisfying as an exercise.


Then, there are stricter Buddhist exercises that fit well in the process of observing ourselves. So as we meditate we look at the thoughts (but without getting attached to them) and as they pass we observe their nature. I used to think of putting a Post-It note on each thought to typify it; history, fear, projection (future), bodily sensations, feelings and so forth - which certainly helped them pass along. 


This also leads usefully into meditation on positives and negatives. I can sit with a passage of writing which highlights a positive quality in me that needs to be improved (which leads to a kind of positive stream of consciousness) or sit with a defect that has kept recurring and meditate on the reasons for this (concentrating on my part, not on anything external). This latter method involves some risk as it can lead to a negative stream of consciousness which can be difficult to come out of and have lasting effects - so probably best left until one is proficient with the positives.


*The mantra is so ingrained into the Tibetan way of Life that children learn to say it at around the same time as they learn to say mother. When Martin Scorcese was filming Kundun with Tibetan extras, he would call for quiet but then not get it as there was a humming going on. He discovered that the extras were reciting the mantra and it was just audible. Scorcese is supposed to have tried to keep it out until he realised that it would be authentic (although my money is on him having a bit more knowledge about Tibetan Buddhists before he started). Anyway, you can hear it clearly throughout the film

Awareness

A certain way to improve our attitude to life - and to become more present - is to increase our awareness of what we do, of how we behave. Through observing ourselves we get to see the patterns of behaviour that keep us trapped in our sleep-walking state. We see how our conditioning has given us attitudes that keep us attached to external things in the (empty) hope they will bring us happiness.


Awareness frees us to live in the here and now. And it comes from observation. There's not a particular way to do this; even if there were having another person tell you how would just be another bit of conditioning.


Just watch yourself. Are you aware of what you say, of what you do? Do you notice the feelings you have when things happen? Are you even aware of any feelings? Can you discern what's going on inside when you experience strong feelings or emotions - when you feel fear or anger, for example?


As well as watching ourselves as we go through our day, we can also review our experiences afterwards and attempt to understand them; and try to understand what stirs up feelings in us; and understand why we react so predictably in certain situations.


When awareness comes it gives us an opportunity to step outside ourselves and look at what is happening - and so we avoid identifying with these things. Then slowly, a piece at a time, we start to identify with "I" rather than "me." Which leads to our behaviour changing as well as our attitudes. It just comes.


My experience has led me to believe that observation leading to awareness is the most important spiritual principle I have identified.

Thirsty?

Once again, I found memories of talks by Maharaji, Prem Rawat, creeping into my meditation and I kept being drawn back to one he told about thirst. Maharaji talks a lot about thirst and about how our human instinct is to thirst for peace (something we all have different names for).


He relates a story which is much like a Sufi story - where we believe there is foolishness but there is not. When I first heard it, I had to sit with this story for some time before it revealed its essence to me.

A man was trapped in the desert and his water had run out. He could just manage to walk and was heading towards what he hoped were signs of a village but was afraid it was a hopeless mirage. And from the shimmering sand he saw a man riding towards him; he sat and waited his arrival and immediately asked the rider for water. The rider explained that he was on a long journey and could not spare any water. Then he quickly reassured the man that he soon would find water as there was an oasis in the next village, less than an hour away. He then turned and rode off but after a few steps he stopped and turned and told the man that he could give the man a tie.

The man refused the offer and slowly made his way to the village. As he came closer he noticed that the large well in the village was surrounded by a fence. He made his way to the gate and asked the person inside to be admitted as he was in desperate need of water. To be told that he wouldn't be allowed in ... because he wasn't wearing a tie.

One thing at a time

There is a Zen practice of doing a task and concentrating on it fully, to the exclusion of everything else. The Tea Ceremony, performed in Japan, is heavily influenced by the practice.


It  involves concentration on the task alone - even excluding issues of the way in which it is being done. If I am peeling vegetables, say, then I need to concentrate on peeling each item. I am not peeling it to make it part of a meal or particularly tasty; I am peeling it just to peel it. When I finish one item, I move on the the next.


It is a difficult practice to perfect. And it's made doubly difficult by our modern life which contains endless distractions. Do you listen to the radio while doing other tasks? Or have TV on "in the background?" These distractions ruin any chance of being present at the task in hand. I find it helpful too, to work slowly. Rushing something keeps me from being fully attentive.


Try turning everything off when you're doing something and concentrate on what you're doing and you might find pleasure in menial tasks that seem like chores.


As a postscript to this, that same evening I read a daily meditation from Awakening by De Mello:

When a guest volunteered to do the dishes, the Master asked "Are you sure you know how to do dishes?" The guest protested that he had been doing it all his life. Said the Master, "I have no doubt of your ability to get them clean. I only doubt your ability to wash them." Explaining later to his disciples, the Master said "there are two ways to wash dishes: to wash them in order to make them clean or to wash them in order to wash them." When it was obvious they hadn't understood he added, "In the first action, your mind is asleep because it is fixed on the goal of clean dishes; in the second it is alive, because your mind is where your body is."

The Serenity Prayer

This is the complete version of the Serenity Prayer, used in an edited form by Alcoholics Anonymous and other Twelve-Step groups. It is credited to Reinhold Niebuhr (1892-1971) although he doesn't remember ever writing it:

God, give us grace to accept with serenity
the things that cannot be changed,
Courage to change the things
which should be changed,
and the Wisdom to distinguish
the one from the other.
Living one day at a time,
Enjoying one moment at a time,
Accepting hardship as a pathway to peace,
Taking, as Jesus did,
This sinful world as it is,
Not as I would have it,
Trusting that You will make all things right,
If I surrender to Your will,
So that I may be reasonably happy in this life,
And supremely happy with You forever in the next.

It forms an appropriate summary for a good position for me to have on life being "as it should be."

Dependence

I suppose that in many ways I depend on other people; we now live in a society which has specialists. So I need other people to grow food  and bring it near to where I live, to supply power and so forth.


But do I depend on people for my happiness? If so, that means I am depending on somebody else for my mental and emotional well-being? psychologically. And that involves just a short step for my believing I need them. Which is probably when I start demanding that they make me feel better about myself and keep me happy. A situation like this is the perfect place for fear to step in -  and in my relationships the two big fears have been of loss and of rejection. When I was looking at some of my feelings about my past, I claimed that my mother had (on one occasion) abandoned me. My spiritual guide at the time asked "Where did she leave you then?" I had no answer because a threat to have me committed to a home for misbehaviour had grown in my head to an idea of abandonment. I was digging into feelings of resentment and, after much prompting for the truth, I realised that I believed my mother hadn't loved me enough. There was no evidence to support that idea (but much to prove the opposite) but my dependence had created a neediness which in turn had created dissatisfaction then anger and then resentment.


My being unhappy - miserable even - is so often a result of "me" making my happiness dependent on some thing or person. "Me" has old habits; and when they come into play they cease to be old but "me" prefers to think that the bad stuff - the  defects of character - are still in the past.


Unconditional love transcends any idea of being dependent: it drives out fear. Love of another cannot take away what is lacking; nor can relationships with others. If I'm lonely, you might make me forget my loneliness for a while. But it returns when the object of my love is no longer there. If I'm empty inside, no person or relationship will ever fill the void. It might appear to for a short time, but left on my own again the emptiness returns.


The clue to success with relationships is in the word unconditional. I need to be in relationship with others that makes no demands on them or on their behaviour - that allows them the freedom to be themselves and to take part in our relationship on their terms. I find happiness in that time together that isn't controlled or demanding and in the memories of them. In none of this can jealousy or neediness be a factor.