Family

A lot of people fuss these days about modern technology and claim that it disconnects us, makes us passive observers of our lives rather than active participants.  Much of what these folks say is probably true but I, for one, am quit grateful for the tech that is now readily available to almost everyone.  

Some time back, during a bad spot in a marriage, I lost contact with my half sister and half brother.  I had no idea how to get in touch with either of them and some online searches in directories for cities where I knew they had resided failed to yield any results.  I have had this percolating in the back of my mind for a while, since they are really the only family I have left.  The other day, while I was sitting in meditation, the thought rose up in me that I should try looking on one of the social networking sites for them.  

With some trepidation (I have had bad experiences with social network sites), I went on Facebook and, within about five minutes, I had located my sister and through her friend list, my brother as well.  I messaged them both and my sister contacted me last night.  We have exchanged happy emails and plan on talking this weekend by phone.  I am waiting for my brother to reply yet but I am sure that I will hear from him soon.  

So, on this day, I am simply expressing my gratitude for the modern technologies that allow us to reconnect with people we care about.  

Observing Myself

As promised, today I want to talk a little about the effect that the observation exercise I discussed yesterday is having on me.  As I noted yesterday, what seemed like a simple assignment from my Taoist teacher - observing people with as little judgment as possible - turned out to be quite difficult.  I discovered quickly that I have a habit of looking at people, labeling them and then filing them away so that I can turn back to my own inner chatter. 

An effort on my part to look at the people around me without judgment had some unexpected results when I also turned that observation on myself.  What I found, as I watched those around me, was that if I did not place a label on the person I was observing, I was likely to place a judgment on myself. 

For example, if I happened to be riding the elevator with the woman I mentioned yesterday who wore too much perfume, had hair colored an unknown shade of red and was displaying entirely too much cleavage for a professional setting, my first reaction was to place the label - trying too hard to be young and failing miserably.  If I was being observant, I would then catch myself making that judgment and step back into trying to be present and simply observe.  What quickly arose then was a judgment on myself about my judgment on the woman - that was inappropriate, mean spirited, etc.  So, I found that I had to take another mental step back and allow myself (whatever that is) to look at myself without a label . . . on myself. 

I am reading that last paragraph and have to laugh.  The process sounds enormously convoluted but it really all happens in a split second and, if I make it through the whole process without getting stuck in one of the stages, I find that I am very present in the moment and not filled with the incessant internal chatter that characterizes my inner landscape.  Of course, that doesn't last long but it makes for a nice break and it makes me realize how much I am being lived by life instead of living life. 

Good thing my teacher says I have another half a century to practice!!

 

Observation

I have an assignment from my Taoist teacher to observe people, watching how they behave with as little judgment as I can manage. 

Observing people without judgment is extraordinarily difficult.  I am programmed to see something and then assign it a label so that I can dismiss it from my mind and move on to "more interesting" stuff.  Example:  I ride an elevator to the 18th floor of a high-rise building every day and, as a result, have an opportunity to observe a lot of different people. 

Previously, I found it easy to deal with this situation since I had my ready made labels to use.  The fellow in the business suit with the Blackberry, thumb typing away and scrolling ceaselessly through messages was Mr. Corporate Ladder Climber.  Dismiss.  The older woman with too much perfume on, unnaturally colored hair and a low cut top was Ms. Trying to Look Young (and failing miserably).  Dismiss.  The young lady with the harried look and a stain not quite scrubbed off the front of her blouse was Ms. Young Mother.  Dismiss.  And so on. 

Trying, now, not to use those labels, I have discovered how many of them I have.  I carry around a regular filing cabinet in my head, with labels ready made to slap on almost every situation and file smugly away.  Looking at these same people without judgment though, I am discovering that I actually pick up more about who they might really be. 

Mr. Corporate Ladder Climber could be scrolling ceaselessly through his messages looking for an invite from a friend for a relaxing dinner that evening.

Ms. Trying to Look Young may have just met a man who makes her feel really young and desirable for the first time in years.

Ms. Young Mother could just as easily be an animal rescue worker as have a spitting up child at home.

I am finding that working this exercise makes me more present because I am actually paying attention to the people around me instead of filing them away.  Tomorrow I will talk a little bit about my reactions to turning the observation on myself.

Potential

Here is a mind blowing concept that I was introduced to last night . . . potential. According to the Taoist teacher that I am working with, we contain all potentials within ourselves, since we are fundamentally united with the Tao, but, during the course of a lifetime, we choose some of those potentials as the focus for our existence, an expression of the True Nature that lies within us.

Now, I am probably explaining this very badly, but, when you look at this idea and sit with it for even a few moments, it has a potential of its own - the potential to set my and your carefully ordered world on its carefully ordered derriere. The problem that I face (along with a lot of others in this society) is that I have allowed myself to be pigeon holed, placed in a box, if you will, where I am only exercising a few of the bajillions of potentials that are available to me. Part of the work that I will be doing is finding ways to take myself outside those (comfortable) boxes and seeing what potentials I would really like to emphasize in this life.

In one of those curious serendipities that tell me that I am 'on to something', my wife emailed me while I was writing this post, pointing out that there is training in traditional Chinese medicine (TCM) available in the area that we want to move to summer after next. I have always been interested in pursuing an education in TCM but have succeeded in talking myself out of it since such an education is often expensive and one has to have the necessary drive to start a business once one graduates. Perhaps, it is not drive that is needed but an understanding of the flow of the Tao. Food for thought.

The Program and Fear

I must not fear. Fear is the mind killer. Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past, I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone, there will be nothing. Only I will remain.

"Bene Gesserit Litany against Fear"

From the science fiction classic Dune by Frank Herbert.

I can not tell you how many times I have seen this piece of fictional text quoted on discussion forums, in chat rooms and on web sites by well meaning people who are trying to help others deal with their fear. From the standpoint of someone who is stuck in fear though, this litany is not only meaningless, it increases their suffering since, in addition to being afraid, they are being made to feel defective since they can not just "let it go". I suspect that many of the people who give this advice have fears of their own that they have not and can not deal with. It is often the case that the person we yell loudest at is the one who is reflecting back to us something we do not want to see.

Fear is actually a useful emotion. In the days when our distant ancestors were still hunted by saber tooth cats and other monstrous predators, a highly developed fight or flight mechanism was necessary for survival. Even today, when we encounter truly threatening situations, fear invokes a response in our bodies that speeds up our heart rate, increases our respirations, sends blood speeding to our muscles and generally prepares us to survive in situations where our life is in danger.

The trouble comes when past instances of survival create an imprint that invokes that fight or flight response in situations where we are not in physical danger. Example: as a result of some experiences in my childhood, I tend to hide (figuratively or literally) whenever someone is having strong emotions. This is not a useful strategy, particularly in close relationships, but it was what helped me survive my early years and I am faced with a double fear when I try to move out of that pattern. First, I must deal with the program and the fear that it induces when strong emotions are evident, or even when I think some action of mine will invoke strong emotions. Second, I must deal with the fear of change since I really do not have another behavior to substitute for the program. Letting go of that fear requires me to simply be present and to move with the flow of events and that is difficult even in less stressful situations.

My point in all this? It is easy to tell someone who is locked in fear to let it go, to face the fear, to allow it to flow past or to realize that it, like all emotions, has no permanence. The next time you feel tempted to do that, stop for a moment and consider the situation from the other person's point of view. I'm willing to bet that a moment of reflection will change your response and allow you to be more present and less intent on fixing the person who is struggling with fear.

The Program

I had a discussion with a friend and teacher last night that has me looking at my life with slightly different eyes this morning. He pointed out that my responses to some questions he had asked me indicated that I am firmly rooted, indeed, stuck, in the past.

My first response to this statement was typical of me: denial. I've practiced long enough, though, to know that when I have that sort of knee jerk reaction, I am responding according to my 'programming' and not from my heart. Unlike the incident that set off my anger this week, I stopped before I actually voiced the denial and sat with my reaction for a second . . . and saw that what my friend was telling me was absolutely true.

I have known for some time now that many of my reactions are 'programmed' - that is, they are learned behaviors from my past that served my survival needs at the time but that now serve to bind me into a life without color. The program tells me to hunker down, keep my head down, be safe (whatever that is) and try to blend into the background. The program tells me that I must constantly be cautious, that people and their strong emotions are dangerous and that they will hurt me if I am not prepared or if I am too open to them. The program tells me that being polite and telling people what I think they want to hear is the best way to deal with everything from day to day interactions to intimate relationships.

My constant struggle with the program is a large source of the emotional exhaustion most people call depression. Through mindfulness, I can sometimes recognize that I am responding from the program and, at the best of times, shining the light of awareness on a reaction allows that knot of emotions to dissipate. I am hoping, as my wife and I enter a new phase of learning, to work more skillfully with the program so that I can free up the energy to live my life more fully in the present.

A Bad Day at the Office

I think that almost everyone has a day, every once in a while, where they just 'lose it'. That was me yesterday. I went to a staff meeting at work and let's just say that it did not go well. Something that came up in the meeting tripped some very old triggers for me. I was angry and I stayed angry for a good part of the day until I got home and had a chance to go to the gym and run off some steam. Suffice to say that I did not deal with my anger well and, though I mostly managed to keep my mouth shut, I was seething for the majority of the day.

The wonderful thing about Taoism is that each day truly is a new day. Now is the moment that matters since the past is done and the future is only a potential before us. I have to take responsibility for my actions yesterday but I can choose not to wallow in that anger any longer. I started my day (on the bus) with some reflection on what triggered my anger, then meditated for most of the rest of the trip, combining mindfulness meditation and some mantra work. I got to work with my mind refreshed and my emotions more balanced.

I have resolved to have a quiet day today and, even though I am at work, I am not engaging in unnecessary conversations. I am taking little meditation breaks as I go along. Consequently, I feel much more in tune this morning and happy that I have a practice that allows me to fall off the proverbial oxcart, get up, brush myself off and get back on.

Western & Eastern medicine

I had a unique experience yesterday that I wanted to share. In the same day, I had an appointment with my allopathic medical practitioner and, that afternoon, with the acupuncturist I have been working with for some neurological issues. The juxtaposition was striking.

My morning Western medical appointment was a model of efficiency. In a matter of minutes, after signing in, I had been weighed, had my eyesight checked, had an ECG performed and had all my vital signs noted. The nurse practitioner that I see was in the room shortly thereafter and pulled up my profile on the office computer system. My lab work was in place and we discussed the results, point by point. The nurse prac made some suggestions for issues that were ongoing, scripts were written for supplements, a referral was made for some other testing and I was out of there. The entire visit took about an hour. Despite the fact that this is one of the best practitioners of Western medicine that I have found, I could not help feeling "processed".

By contrast, later that day, I visited my acupuncturist. We sat in the waiting room chatting for a while and then moved into the treatment room where I gave an update of my observations about the treatment and my condition. I was settled on a massage bed and left to relax for a few moments before this practitioner came and took my pulses (a diagnostic method used in traditional Chinese medicine - TCM). After determining the course of treatment for this session, the acupuncturist explained what he was going to do and began a staged series of needlings. He would insert a few needles at specific points then leave me to let the treatment work for a while. Then, he would come back, remove the needles and place a new set. Once the treatment was complete, I was given all the time that I needed to get up and moving. My practitioner was waiting for me in the waiting room and spent some more time chatting before I went my way feeling relaxed and not at all hurried. This visit took over two hours.

After this experience, it has never been more evident to me that Western medicine is based on a corporate manufacturing model while TCM actually works with and treats people. While I would still want to be taken to the local trauma center for treatment after a car accident, I am realizing, as I get older, that I want my health maintenance to be based on a model that looks at me as a whole person and not just a collection of parts to be removed, swapped out or otherwise "fixed".

And so we begin . . .

Nothing in the world is as soft and yielding as water,

Yet nothing can better overcome the hard and strong,

For they can neither control nor do away with it.

Lao Tzu, Tao Te Ching, chapter 8

This is the first of what I hope will be many posts as I walk this path.  I decided to begin this blog as a part of my spiritual practice, an exercise in accountability that will keep me from “falling off the wagon” of living a simple and mindful life.  In addition to helping me feel more accountable for my practice, I thought it might be useful for people to read about the experiences, misadventures and, yes, outright mistakes of someone who is not a master, guru, published author or other authority.  I am just myself, whoever that is, and I make no claim to any special revelation or knowledge. 

What I do have is a curious nature that has led me to explore a variety of ways and has eventually led me to Taoism and its close cousin, Zen.   As I have walked my way, I have found that the practice of mindfulness, of really trying to be present in every moment, of looking at the emotions and seeing their temporary nature is the one thing that helps me to live with that great enemy of modern man: depression. 

Please note: I am not saying that, through my practice, I have made depression go away.  I live near Buffalo, NY, and it is midwinter.  When I go to work in the morning, it is dark and, when I come home in the evening, it is getting dark.  I have suffered from depression, off and on, for my entire life.  It is not an affliction that is easily ‘cured’ but it is one that we can learn to deal with, if we are honest with ourselves. 

I will have more to say about depression as I go on but suffice to say that the practice of mindfulness has helped me to understand depression in my life as a sort of emotional exhaustion that comes from fighting against feeling “bad” (however that manifests) and trying to escape from it. 

As I noted above, the keywords in my practice right now are simplicity and mindfulness. 

Simplicity: my wife, Stacey, and I have a plan, which we are in the process of implementing, that will take us from a three-bedroom house and a lot of stuff that has accumulated over the years, to a 32-foot class C motor home.  Of course, it helps that we are going to become empty nesters in May of 2011.  Both Stacey and I feel a fundamental need to pare down our existence so that we can engage life more fully.  Plainly speaking, we both feel that an uncluttered existence will lead us to a less cluttered mind. 

Mindfulness: my mindfulness meditation for today was a three-hour Kali class.  Kali is a Filipino martial art that works backward to most martial arts, teaching weapon work first and melding that into empty hand training later on.  Believe me when I tell you that nothing promotes mindfulness more than someone trying, repeatedly, to hit you in the head with a stick.  I also practice sitting meditation, focused on the breath, but, mostly, my emphasis is on bringing myself back to the present, over and over throughout the day.

A brief note about the title of this blog  . . . I use flowing water as a spiritual metaphor for the way I would like my life to work.  Spend some time watching a stream flow across and around and even through rocks and you will have an idea of what I mean. 

I bid you welcome and hope you derive some benefit from these writings.