I feel so ashamed to say it -- but I chose to work from home today, and I actually worked for a grand total of about 30 minutes, even though I spent almost 4 hours at my computer. And the 30 minutes was not very productive.
Lately I've been noticing how, after almost any event in my life, large or small, my mind is inclined to review the event and frame it in such a way that I can feel OK about it, and that is consistent with the story I like to tell about myself. For example, while I am working for my employer, I typically engage in fantasies of completing many goals and imagining how good it will feel to accomplish those goals. This is pleasant. But as the work period (an hour, a day, a week) nears its end, if I have not accomplished what I desired, I can no longer use those fantasies to feel OK. As shame and fear fill my being, I've caught myself reframing: thinking thoughts such as, "Well, everyone has periods of low productivity. It's OK. Also, my higher goal is spiritual development, and low productivity, while painful in the short term, may be helpful in the long term by humbling me and encouraging me to anchor myself in the spiritual, rather than the material. Also, the thing I was working on today wasn't really that important. Perhaps it will be OK or even preferable to do without it."
Another example: yesterday I did something nice or helpful for someone. I can't remember what it was. But I do remember that afterward, I was driven to reflect on it and add it to the story of Terry: "What a nice, kind person I am! It is so good and pleasant that I do kind things like this."
All day today I've been accompanied by a schmear of fear and shame. First, I spent two hours trying to get our vacuum cleaner fixed, then becoming educated about vacuum cleaners, trying to find out from our housecleaner what type of vacuum cleaner she would prefer, and buying a new vacuum cleaner. I imagined the whole thing would be a 20 minute errand. The rest of the day I thought I should be getting down to work but this is what I did instead: ate a meal, talked for over an hour with Craig, my contractor, about important things regarding the remodeling project, talked with E and Z, went back and forth with a couple of plumbers who are providing work on the project, made a fruit smoothie and ate it, read about the work culture of Amazon, watched a video of more police brutality, ate some cold, limp French fries that Z brought me, meditated. (And worked for about 30 minutes.)
The story I told myself to feel better was similar to the story above: "There was nothing that was essential to complete today. I will be more productive when I go into the office tomorrow, where I have big monitors, there are fewer distractions, there is air conditioning, and I can snack on chocolate for energy and focus. And the schmear of shame and fear I experienced all day -- that doesn't mean I've wasted my day. It doesn't mean I'm a bad person."
But, before getting involved in that story, I noticed the craving to have such a story. I noticed the felt need to tell myself a story in order to feel OK about myself--indeed, in order even to feel that I am somebody, that I exist. For the first time, I saw this story-telling as a habit, and the need for this story-telling as evidence of the chokehold that the ego, the personality, the self has over my experience of living. I know that seeing is the first step toward freedom. Yay.
During meditation, the craving to feel OK was very strong and convincing. I noticed that, even when I thought I was letting go of it, I wasn't fully letting go of it. I was still believing it. Still believing something like, "Yes, of course I am a bad person, but this meditation should help me feel more relaxed and OK. I cannot totally abandon this craving to feel OK, because it is this craving that motivates me to do the things I need to do to survive, such as fulfill my various duties to my employer, my partners, my tenants, my creditors, my friends and associates." Seeing the persistence of this belief, I let go even more. Beyond that is peacefulness and enjoyment ... and, a nagging doubt, a very strong nagging doubt: this can't be enough, this can't be OK.
Tuesday, August 18, 2015
Thursday, August 6, 2015
Modern superstition
Modern superstition: measuring my waist first thing after getting out of bed this morning to make sure it is smaller than the magical number of 35 inches that my wellness coach told me yesterday was maximum for good health.
I used to think I was not superstitious because I didn't care about black cats crossing my path and so forth. Now I see more and more irrational little things I do throughout each day to give me a feeling of safety.
Other examples:
Training to do the yoga pose called wheel because Jacob's 75 year old mother can do it. (Unless I can do it also, I think, I am unlikely to be as healthy as she when I am her age)
Practicing arising from sitting on the floor without touching knees or hands to the floor, because ability to do so correlates with longevity.
Wanting to follow the instructions of my doctor and of my meditation teacher exactly. Feeling relief when I do.
I think health and fitness practices are a big area for modern day superstition in the West.
Monday, July 27, 2015
Fear of death
I am experimenting with blogging using the Voice Recognition function on my phone. I just now entered about 5 minutes worth of very brilliant observations - then, I noticed that my phone had gone to sleep, & I had lost all that I had written. Anicca. [07/29/15: entry edited to fix voice recognition failures]
Whereas craving has been prominent in my practice, both on and off the cushion, for the past 10 months, today I saw a shift - I saw the fear of annihilation beneath the craving. I saw that the ego really really doesn't want to go away. How it seems that there is nothing beyond ego. That without ego I am nothing.
I just bought a second house. I bought the house behind my back fence, and now I am having a lot of work done on it. Expensive work, and work that, at least initially, involves a lot of destruction. When I hear the work, I feel anxiety. The anxiety is not simply worry that the work may not be done properly, or may not turn out as I would like, or may not be worth the money I am spending. I can see that it is about rapidity of change - seeing things that are perfectly good as they are being destroyed, and not in my control.
Saturday, June 13, 2015
Continuous practice
Attending a session of science presentations and discussion, knowing that liberation, enlightenment is a priority overshadowing my wishes to be a good employee and scientist, trying to be aware while listening, absorbing, and participating. Hard to do. Initiating awareness seems to trigger a tightening in the chest that seems solid and to which I feel aversion. More pleasant to zone out (though not actually being pleasant)
Saturday, May 30, 2015
Practice notes
10:53 a.m.
Had invited Jacob, Rich, Laura, and Rita to join me in sitting. Decided to do walking meditation until someone showed up. I was feeling the heavy malaise I sometimes (often?) feel during retreat or long periods of practice. The tension in the right throat and chest, accompanied by a mental state that seems to say, "Life without stimulation is dreary and a waste of time. It is really bad to be in this state." I experience strong aversion to this state and this is a big reason I dislike being on retreat.
I felt a determination to investigate this today. But how? I walked slowly back and forth, doing a kind of whispered inquiry: "Who is it whose chest is tight? Who dislikes this feeling? Who is it that thinks this is bad? Who wants to escape? Who thinks she has to do this practice in order to awaken?" After 10 or 15 minutes that particular malaise evaporated leaving me with a more subtle dis-ease. "Who identifies with those sensations? Who is afraid of disappearing? Who wants the sensations to come back?"
Nobody had shown up to sit with me. Decided to do some yoga before sitting. Did poses and stretches that called to me. Didn't note.
Noon
Sat on my cushion and set timer for one hour. Whispered noting for 20 minutes, then, because I was feeling drowsy and dull, did 20 minutes of walking meditation with whispered noting. Then, 20 minutes more of whispered noting. Noted through transitions from sitting to walking and back again. Details below:
During the first part of sitting, I continued to crave stimulation, to be doing something else, anything else. I did general noting at first, then noted my level of craving on a scale of 1-5 ("Craving 1, Craving 2, Craving 3, Craving 3, Craving 0 ... "). I observed that the craving was not always continuous. Then, because I was also experiencing aversion, alternated noting craving and aversion.
After transitioning to walking, I noted the actual sensations and actions of walking. I walked very slowly and noted about 20 or 25 times per step: lifting, lifting, lifting, shifting, shifting, bending, lowering, placing, placing .... I remembered how U Pandita (I think) used to ask his students to break things down very finely, to keep noticing new things about each activity. I still experienced a lot of craving but chose not to note it, usually, and to instead focus on the sensations and actions of walking. Towards the end I got down to the details of which muscles were being activated: "Hamstrings. Hamstrings. Hip flexors. Quads. Quads. ... "
After one very slow round trip through the hallway, sat down again and did general noting. Hearing, hearing, pulsing, expanding, craving, hearing, hearing, pressure, hearing, sensation, releasing, craving. Whereas a couple of years ago I regularly noted sadness, sleepiness, and anger, these are not a common part of my experience while sitting anymore. Mostly physical sensations and craving; occasionally aversion. I tried to relax and note at a relaxed pace as Beth suggests. After some time the craving subsided and I began to feel more ease and even subtle joy, although I didn't ever note ease or joy. When the bell rang I felt briefly angry that my session was over, and amused that I could crave for it to be over and also be angry when it ended.
Might have noticed one or two shifts during the sitting that may have been the different nanas, but wasn't obvious what the nanas were and I didn't try to think about it.
Had invited Jacob, Rich, Laura, and Rita to join me in sitting. Decided to do walking meditation until someone showed up. I was feeling the heavy malaise I sometimes (often?) feel during retreat or long periods of practice. The tension in the right throat and chest, accompanied by a mental state that seems to say, "Life without stimulation is dreary and a waste of time. It is really bad to be in this state." I experience strong aversion to this state and this is a big reason I dislike being on retreat.
I felt a determination to investigate this today. But how? I walked slowly back and forth, doing a kind of whispered inquiry: "Who is it whose chest is tight? Who dislikes this feeling? Who is it that thinks this is bad? Who wants to escape? Who thinks she has to do this practice in order to awaken?" After 10 or 15 minutes that particular malaise evaporated leaving me with a more subtle dis-ease. "Who identifies with those sensations? Who is afraid of disappearing? Who wants the sensations to come back?"
Nobody had shown up to sit with me. Decided to do some yoga before sitting. Did poses and stretches that called to me. Didn't note.
Noon
Sat on my cushion and set timer for one hour. Whispered noting for 20 minutes, then, because I was feeling drowsy and dull, did 20 minutes of walking meditation with whispered noting. Then, 20 minutes more of whispered noting. Noted through transitions from sitting to walking and back again. Details below:
During the first part of sitting, I continued to crave stimulation, to be doing something else, anything else. I did general noting at first, then noted my level of craving on a scale of 1-5 ("Craving 1, Craving 2, Craving 3, Craving 3, Craving 0 ... "). I observed that the craving was not always continuous. Then, because I was also experiencing aversion, alternated noting craving and aversion.
After transitioning to walking, I noted the actual sensations and actions of walking. I walked very slowly and noted about 20 or 25 times per step: lifting, lifting, lifting, shifting, shifting, bending, lowering, placing, placing .... I remembered how U Pandita (I think) used to ask his students to break things down very finely, to keep noticing new things about each activity. I still experienced a lot of craving but chose not to note it, usually, and to instead focus on the sensations and actions of walking. Towards the end I got down to the details of which muscles were being activated: "Hamstrings. Hamstrings. Hip flexors. Quads. Quads. ... "
After one very slow round trip through the hallway, sat down again and did general noting. Hearing, hearing, pulsing, expanding, craving, hearing, hearing, pressure, hearing, sensation, releasing, craving. Whereas a couple of years ago I regularly noted sadness, sleepiness, and anger, these are not a common part of my experience while sitting anymore. Mostly physical sensations and craving; occasionally aversion. I tried to relax and note at a relaxed pace as Beth suggests. After some time the craving subsided and I began to feel more ease and even subtle joy, although I didn't ever note ease or joy. When the bell rang I felt briefly angry that my session was over, and amused that I could crave for it to be over and also be angry when it ended.
Might have noticed one or two shifts during the sitting that may have been the different nanas, but wasn't obvious what the nanas were and I didn't try to think about it.
Thirsting for liberation, inquiring into the self
Did first 3 days of a 7 day Insight Dialogue retreat with Gregory Kramer and Mary Burns on Samish Island last weekend. Suffered as usual with vague mental/physical malaise felt in the right throat/chest. Asked of the universe that I be completely liberated, whatever it takes, even if it involves great pain, suffering, or loss. That I prefer it not be difficult, but am willing for it to be difficult. Before and after retreat I read two of Jan Frazier's books. Frazier had a spontaneous, complete, permanent awakening at age 50. She evocatively conveys what it is like to awaken and to be awake, more eloquently and at greater length than any other writer I've read. This inspired me, stirred in me the knowledge that it can happen in this very life.
Apparently, my wish communicated itself to some part of my psyche, because a couple of hours ago, in the middle of sleep, I had flashes of clear seeing of the ridiculousness of my ego in operation. First, a sudden, unbeckoned dream-like imagining of someone saying something like, "Your work is complete crap." I felt the shame and contraction I usually feel, but with a tiny bit more spaciousness, and an immediate recognition of how crazy it is to allow a statement like that to affect me so. Soon afterward, a similar imagining of receiving a work email that began, "This is the worst paper I've ever read." Similar response. Thereafter, more imaginings, this time seeming to arise more of my conscious volition, of things that usually upset me, and active inquiry into their nature. What does my reaction feel like? What is it like to see it as not-self? What is the yearning, fear, or sense of incompleteness that arises when I see it as not-self? These are evidence of clinging to identification with self.
In one of her books, Jan Frazier asks the reader to inquire whether she truly desires liberation, or mostly wants her mundane life to be more comfortable. I did such inquiry yesterday. When I began practicing Buddhist meditation in the Vipassana tradition 15 years ago, my purpose was clear: to suffer less. I experienced much more suffering at that time. I also had little understanding of what liberation really was. I craved peak experiences. All of this has shifted over time. However, I saw yesterday that I still strive mightily for things in the mundane realm: comfort, and some other things less easily named.
Yesterday, I saw as the highlights of my experience those moments when my ego was challenged. This is exactly in response to Frazier's writings. I welcomed those moments, knowing that those are the times when I can learn and let go. I welcomed feeling agitated when Gustavo asked me about my work. I welcomed feeling frustrated when I found I was going to be late for a lecture. The day before, I welcomed feeling defensive when a co-worker mentioned that my phone rings a lot when I am absent from my desk.
Two weeks ago, on May 17, I saw that my neighbor's house had been put up for sale. I moved quickly to buy it. Part of this is ego-driven, following a desire to expand my domain, to be a property owner, to be a creator of community. It has made me busier and will continue to make me busier for a while. I think it was a wise decision, though.
Apparently, my wish communicated itself to some part of my psyche, because a couple of hours ago, in the middle of sleep, I had flashes of clear seeing of the ridiculousness of my ego in operation. First, a sudden, unbeckoned dream-like imagining of someone saying something like, "Your work is complete crap." I felt the shame and contraction I usually feel, but with a tiny bit more spaciousness, and an immediate recognition of how crazy it is to allow a statement like that to affect me so. Soon afterward, a similar imagining of receiving a work email that began, "This is the worst paper I've ever read." Similar response. Thereafter, more imaginings, this time seeming to arise more of my conscious volition, of things that usually upset me, and active inquiry into their nature. What does my reaction feel like? What is it like to see it as not-self? What is the yearning, fear, or sense of incompleteness that arises when I see it as not-self? These are evidence of clinging to identification with self.
In one of her books, Jan Frazier asks the reader to inquire whether she truly desires liberation, or mostly wants her mundane life to be more comfortable. I did such inquiry yesterday. When I began practicing Buddhist meditation in the Vipassana tradition 15 years ago, my purpose was clear: to suffer less. I experienced much more suffering at that time. I also had little understanding of what liberation really was. I craved peak experiences. All of this has shifted over time. However, I saw yesterday that I still strive mightily for things in the mundane realm: comfort, and some other things less easily named.
Yesterday, I saw as the highlights of my experience those moments when my ego was challenged. This is exactly in response to Frazier's writings. I welcomed those moments, knowing that those are the times when I can learn and let go. I welcomed feeling agitated when Gustavo asked me about my work. I welcomed feeling frustrated when I found I was going to be late for a lecture. The day before, I welcomed feeling defensive when a co-worker mentioned that my phone rings a lot when I am absent from my desk.
Two weeks ago, on May 17, I saw that my neighbor's house had been put up for sale. I moved quickly to buy it. Part of this is ego-driven, following a desire to expand my domain, to be a property owner, to be a creator of community. It has made me busier and will continue to make me busier for a while. I think it was a wise decision, though.
Tuesday, May 5, 2015
Notes from recent practice
This post has more unexplained jargon than usual. All terminology is explained in Ingram's Mastering the Core Teachings of the Buddha.
I hope I am on my way to 2nd path, now that the frequency and regularity of my Vipassana practice has increased.
Was doubting that I'd attained first path. Then out of the blue had a fruition during a recent sit. Or at least I had something that Kenneth Folk said was a fruition back in the weeks after first path when I was having them a lot. Something like sleepiness, then something like falling asleep for just a second. Then a bliss wave.
I want another one so I can pay more attention to it. Several more!
Last night I was meditating -- noting, actually -- in my sleep. For hours. Don't know what that's about. It wasn't as vivid as it was during my first time through the A&P. I don't think it's my second time through the A&P because I seemed to go through that in August 2012, the couple of days right before orienteering in Laramie. I should be past the 2nd A&P.
In recent weeks I have been paying more attention to the nanas as I pass through then during each sitting and I am finally getting a feel for them. States that I'd formerly thought of as bad meditation I now see as nanas and not bad at all. In particular, Dissolution, where one sees mainly the endings of things - I find it hard to note during that nana and had previously thought it was poor concentration. It's just the 5th nana. I especially enjoy the 8th (?) nana, Desire for Deliverance. Before I knew how to recognize it, it's description made it sound quite unpleasant. But it's amazing to be so clear that samsara is undesirable, so wonderful to know with certainty that letting go is the absolute right thing to do. Finally, the 10th nana, Equanimity, can have poor concentration and that's just a feature of that nana that one has to be wary of.
Wednesday, April 15, 2015
Log 04/15/15
Practicing a lot in recent days. Practiced last night before bed, then this morning upon awakening, then again before getting dressed. Noting practice, trying to stay relaxed. Beth: "Each moment is an invitation to relax". Still, though, wishing to notice phenomena more crisply and thoroughly. I have doubt that noting only occasional phenomena will work.
I'm not remembering the details of each session as clearly as I used to 2-3 years ago. Here's what I remember from my early morning sitting: attention was not crisp. Thoughts kept arising. I was mostly physically comfortable. The thoughts were very enticing; they were plans for practice and also plans for other things, like seeing a movie on Saturday. The past few days I'd been trying to notice the nanas, but today I decided to let that go since it is a distraction. Lately I have been noting joy more and noticing the mind's response to look for a problem. My intention is not to explore this, but to simply note it. Because thoughts can be so engaging and distracting, I desire to stop the thoughts from developing by noticing and noting the tingling sensation ("tingling") that seems to give rise to the thought. I enjoy practicing this way but I imagine that Beth would not approve so I have some doubt about practicing this way.
Picked up Shaila's book "Wisdom Wide and Deep" and re-read the part about the nanas and also the introduction. I feel desire to attend her retreat next month. I want to gain skill in jhana.
Time to catch bus to work.
I'm not remembering the details of each session as clearly as I used to 2-3 years ago. Here's what I remember from my early morning sitting: attention was not crisp. Thoughts kept arising. I was mostly physically comfortable. The thoughts were very enticing; they were plans for practice and also plans for other things, like seeing a movie on Saturday. The past few days I'd been trying to notice the nanas, but today I decided to let that go since it is a distraction. Lately I have been noting joy more and noticing the mind's response to look for a problem. My intention is not to explore this, but to simply note it. Because thoughts can be so engaging and distracting, I desire to stop the thoughts from developing by noticing and noting the tingling sensation ("tingling") that seems to give rise to the thought. I enjoy practicing this way but I imagine that Beth would not approve so I have some doubt about practicing this way.
Picked up Shaila's book "Wisdom Wide and Deep" and re-read the part about the nanas and also the introduction. I feel desire to attend her retreat next month. I want to gain skill in jhana.
Time to catch bus to work.
A new perspective on dukkha
Today I've noticed myself having a new perspective on the dukkha I experience. It's subtle. Usually, when I notice some suffering in my life, I briefly strategize about how I can eliminate the suffering. I think about subtle shifts I can make in my physical actions or thinking, either in the moment, or long term. Associated with that is mild self-loathing: "Why haven't I mastered this yet? Why do I continue to create this suffering for myself?"
Today, the thought that has been arising is, "Yeah, there's dukkha again. More reason to practice. Liberation is the only answer."
Pretty cool.
Today, the thought that has been arising is, "Yeah, there's dukkha again. More reason to practice. Liberation is the only answer."
Pretty cool.
Sunday, April 12, 2015
Hello!
I am astonished that it's been over a month since I last posted!
I have shifted my emphasis from psychological work to Vipassana practice.
Today, sat twice so far. First, 2-3/4 hours, sitting, walking, sitting. Second, 50 minutes sitting. Was interested in the nanas. My reading had reminded me that after stream entry, simply inclining the mind toward investigation puts one in the A&P, then one cycles up through to equanimity. Was curious to see how this fit with my experience.
I will describe the second sitting because the first is not so clear in my memory. When I sat down, a familiar series of thoughts and sensations happened during the first minute or two: pulsing, expanding, hearing, regret, joy, tension, relaxation. Attention was crisp and it did seem that this was A&P-like. I didn't notice any clear dukkha nanas, but after maybe 10 minutes I did feel quite equanimous. Various pains and discomforts came and went; they didn't disturb me. Thoughts also came and went but did't disturb me. And it did take effort to concentrate. I was inclined to be lazy. Applying effort was somewhat unpleasant. When my left leg fell asleep and I moved it, the waking-up feelings were intense and I experience aversion -- so I was not 100% equanimous. I arose from my sitting when I felt tired of making the effort.
Various things over the past month have inspired both me and Z to practice Vipassana fervently. If we can experience freedom in this very life, what could be a more worthwhile pursuit? I have believed this for several years, yet for the past 2.5 years I have been more drawn to psychological work. It has been very interesting and very rewarding, and it has not seemed possible to pursue both intensively, at least not while holding down a job. I imagine, too, that psychological work may detract from Vipassana momentum. I wonder where today's passion with Vipassana will take me?
I am strongly considering quitting my job soon, like in 2 or 2.5 months. Reasons:
- I have never felt at ease with this work. I have repeatedly felt overwhelmed. I have days where I feel happy and competent, but this feeling never lasts more than a week or two at best. I want to give myself a chance to experience something different, something more joyful. I feel interested in dementia care, hospice, psychology, and intuitive healing. I will follow whichever path presents me with a suitable mentor.
- I want to take some time off from full-time work to practice Vipassana intensively and also to take care of my health.
I have shifted my emphasis from psychological work to Vipassana practice.
Today, sat twice so far. First, 2-3/4 hours, sitting, walking, sitting. Second, 50 minutes sitting. Was interested in the nanas. My reading had reminded me that after stream entry, simply inclining the mind toward investigation puts one in the A&P, then one cycles up through to equanimity. Was curious to see how this fit with my experience.
I will describe the second sitting because the first is not so clear in my memory. When I sat down, a familiar series of thoughts and sensations happened during the first minute or two: pulsing, expanding, hearing, regret, joy, tension, relaxation. Attention was crisp and it did seem that this was A&P-like. I didn't notice any clear dukkha nanas, but after maybe 10 minutes I did feel quite equanimous. Various pains and discomforts came and went; they didn't disturb me. Thoughts also came and went but did't disturb me. And it did take effort to concentrate. I was inclined to be lazy. Applying effort was somewhat unpleasant. When my left leg fell asleep and I moved it, the waking-up feelings were intense and I experience aversion -- so I was not 100% equanimous. I arose from my sitting when I felt tired of making the effort.
Various things over the past month have inspired both me and Z to practice Vipassana fervently. If we can experience freedom in this very life, what could be a more worthwhile pursuit? I have believed this for several years, yet for the past 2.5 years I have been more drawn to psychological work. It has been very interesting and very rewarding, and it has not seemed possible to pursue both intensively, at least not while holding down a job. I imagine, too, that psychological work may detract from Vipassana momentum. I wonder where today's passion with Vipassana will take me?
I am strongly considering quitting my job soon, like in 2 or 2.5 months. Reasons:
- I have never felt at ease with this work. I have repeatedly felt overwhelmed. I have days where I feel happy and competent, but this feeling never lasts more than a week or two at best. I want to give myself a chance to experience something different, something more joyful. I feel interested in dementia care, hospice, psychology, and intuitive healing. I will follow whichever path presents me with a suitable mentor.
- I want to take some time off from full-time work to practice Vipassana intensively and also to take care of my health.
Sunday, March 8, 2015
Working with the superego, a.k.a. The Voice
I am always looking for practices I can do while resting in bed after waking. Vipassana practices such as noting or simply being aware of sensation do not work so well--usually my concentration is weak and I am partially lost in thought.
This morning I put my attention on the critical voice of the superego. I've become increasingly aware of this voice, of its pervasiveness and the subtlety of some of its messages. This morning, when I became aware of a message from the superego, I did the following:
1. Mentally put the message into words. For example, "What you are doing is a waste of time."
2. Mentally imagined who might be saying these words. Did I have a sense for who might be saying them? Usually it was my child self, between 4 and 8 years of age, agitatedly trying to get me to listen to her so that I could be safe. Later in my practice this morning, it sometimes was my mother, extremely agitated and intensely uncomfortable.
3. Welcomed that being. In T's words, I invited her to the party.
4. Dialog with the being. "Oh, really? I am a complete failure and might as well give up? That's interesting. What am I a failure at? How do you know?" Usually this was brief because quickly either another message appeared and/or I relaxed somewhat. Also, it feels kind of boring to do this dialog.
5. Repeat
Often what caught my attention was not a message, but a bad feeling. I would then try to put that feeling into words. The words could be, "If you feel this bad feeling, you are a bad person," Or, "You've really messed up your day now. You've just laid here and you haven't done any of the things I've told you to do."
Toward the end of this session I'd notice the voice be really, really panicky (and this was when it seemed to be the voice of my mother). It couldn't speak fast enough to tell me all the things I'd done wrong. They were all piled up and there was a sense that it was entirely hopeless and a train wreck. "You, you you ... you didn't do your exercises and you didn't do your taxes and you are just lying here and you don't know what you're doing and it's too late because you've used up all the time and you're not listening and you really, really don't know what you're doing and you'd better listen up fast fast fast otherwise it will be really bad!!!!"
Always a lightness appears after some time of doing this work. Today I had an urge to speak to Z, who was dozing in my arms. Fear arose, as always, that she might be irritated with me for disturbing her, but it was much lighter. I said, "Z?" She said, "Hm?" And because the fear was much lighter I didn't hear irritation in her voice but instead happiness. I immediately experienced delight and quickly squeezed her and said "I love you".
This morning I put my attention on the critical voice of the superego. I've become increasingly aware of this voice, of its pervasiveness and the subtlety of some of its messages. This morning, when I became aware of a message from the superego, I did the following:
1. Mentally put the message into words. For example, "What you are doing is a waste of time."
2. Mentally imagined who might be saying these words. Did I have a sense for who might be saying them? Usually it was my child self, between 4 and 8 years of age, agitatedly trying to get me to listen to her so that I could be safe. Later in my practice this morning, it sometimes was my mother, extremely agitated and intensely uncomfortable.
3. Welcomed that being. In T's words, I invited her to the party.
4. Dialog with the being. "Oh, really? I am a complete failure and might as well give up? That's interesting. What am I a failure at? How do you know?" Usually this was brief because quickly either another message appeared and/or I relaxed somewhat. Also, it feels kind of boring to do this dialog.
5. Repeat
Often what caught my attention was not a message, but a bad feeling. I would then try to put that feeling into words. The words could be, "If you feel this bad feeling, you are a bad person," Or, "You've really messed up your day now. You've just laid here and you haven't done any of the things I've told you to do."
Toward the end of this session I'd notice the voice be really, really panicky (and this was when it seemed to be the voice of my mother). It couldn't speak fast enough to tell me all the things I'd done wrong. They were all piled up and there was a sense that it was entirely hopeless and a train wreck. "You, you you ... you didn't do your exercises and you didn't do your taxes and you are just lying here and you don't know what you're doing and it's too late because you've used up all the time and you're not listening and you really, really don't know what you're doing and you'd better listen up fast fast fast otherwise it will be really bad!!!!"
Always a lightness appears after some time of doing this work. Today I had an urge to speak to Z, who was dozing in my arms. Fear arose, as always, that she might be irritated with me for disturbing her, but it was much lighter. I said, "Z?" She said, "Hm?" And because the fear was much lighter I didn't hear irritation in her voice but instead happiness. I immediately experienced delight and quickly squeezed her and said "I love you".
Monday, March 2, 2015
A bright report from the misophonia front
Gineen Roth's book, Women, Food, and God, talks about noticing the sensations in the body. One chapter near the center of the book spoke to me in a way I was particularly receptive to yesterday, and I spent yesterday delving deeply into awareness of body sensations.
Misophonia is a recently coined term to refer to a condition wherein certain noises, usually human-generated and usually bodily, trigger rage in certain people. I've had misophonia since I was 8 or 10. I'd noticed some weeks or months ago that the sounds that trigger anger for me--eating noises in particular--are, at a more fundamental level, triggering very primal body sensations. The sensations are so powerful, so unfamiliar, change so fast, and are so out of my control, that until now they have utterly distracted me from anything else I wanted to do: work, read, talk, think. Thus, anger.
Yesterday, as a result of hard work inspired by Roth's book, I was so in touch with my core bodily sensations that I actually enjoyed and welcomed what arose when my housemates were eating in the kitchen next to me. The sensations didn't seem like an unwelcome intrusion, but rather an extension and intensification of what I'd been focusing on, and directing friendliness toward, all day. In fact, I welcomed these intense sensations, because it was easier to pay attention to bodily sensations when they were so very compelling. Of course, I've been doing body-awareness practices since I began Vipassana meditation 15 years ago, and had not before today found the misophonia-associated sensations welcome. The past 15 years have been a long, slow process of becoming aware of, and friendly with, sensations on a deeper and deeper level. Finally, early in the day yesterday, I had apparently extended friendliness to sensations close to the very primal level of those that arise when I hear eating noises. Then, when those noises happened later in the day, the sensations that arose were, for the first time in decades, tolerable, even enjoyable.
And just now, as I wrote all of the above, Z has been eating noisily behind me, and the sensations it's triggered haven't distracted me from my writing. It seems that, for now anyway, I've developed enough friendliness with these sensations that they are not, at the moment, distracting.
On one of my first meditation retreats, about ten years ago, I struggled mightily with misophonia. At that time I did not allow myself to use earplugs in the meditation hall unless I was utterly miserable. A heavy breather sat near me in the hall and the entire retreat I was working with the rage that arose. I told myself, and told others on retreat, that I was pretty sure my sensitivity to such sounds was a gift that would ultimately be part of my path to freedom.
Several years later, not noticing much of a shift in my ability to tolerate the sounds, I decided the kindest thing to do for myself was to allow myself to use earplugs whenever and wherever I desired, on retreat or off. I think this was a very good decision.
And now, finally, a taste of real freedom in my relationship to these sounds.
Misophonia is a recently coined term to refer to a condition wherein certain noises, usually human-generated and usually bodily, trigger rage in certain people. I've had misophonia since I was 8 or 10. I'd noticed some weeks or months ago that the sounds that trigger anger for me--eating noises in particular--are, at a more fundamental level, triggering very primal body sensations. The sensations are so powerful, so unfamiliar, change so fast, and are so out of my control, that until now they have utterly distracted me from anything else I wanted to do: work, read, talk, think. Thus, anger.
Yesterday, as a result of hard work inspired by Roth's book, I was so in touch with my core bodily sensations that I actually enjoyed and welcomed what arose when my housemates were eating in the kitchen next to me. The sensations didn't seem like an unwelcome intrusion, but rather an extension and intensification of what I'd been focusing on, and directing friendliness toward, all day. In fact, I welcomed these intense sensations, because it was easier to pay attention to bodily sensations when they were so very compelling. Of course, I've been doing body-awareness practices since I began Vipassana meditation 15 years ago, and had not before today found the misophonia-associated sensations welcome. The past 15 years have been a long, slow process of becoming aware of, and friendly with, sensations on a deeper and deeper level. Finally, early in the day yesterday, I had apparently extended friendliness to sensations close to the very primal level of those that arise when I hear eating noises. Then, when those noises happened later in the day, the sensations that arose were, for the first time in decades, tolerable, even enjoyable.
And just now, as I wrote all of the above, Z has been eating noisily behind me, and the sensations it's triggered haven't distracted me from my writing. It seems that, for now anyway, I've developed enough friendliness with these sensations that they are not, at the moment, distracting.
On one of my first meditation retreats, about ten years ago, I struggled mightily with misophonia. At that time I did not allow myself to use earplugs in the meditation hall unless I was utterly miserable. A heavy breather sat near me in the hall and the entire retreat I was working with the rage that arose. I told myself, and told others on retreat, that I was pretty sure my sensitivity to such sounds was a gift that would ultimately be part of my path to freedom.
Several years later, not noticing much of a shift in my ability to tolerate the sounds, I decided the kindest thing to do for myself was to allow myself to use earplugs whenever and wherever I desired, on retreat or off. I think this was a very good decision.
And now, finally, a taste of real freedom in my relationship to these sounds.
Wednesday, February 18, 2015
Alchemy
That unpleasant feeling I experience upon transitioning from rest to activity? Upon even considering it? Zounds! it is simply a clenching up against ... excitement! Hallelujah, what a discovery! What freedom I can now enjoy!
I discovered this just today ... or maybe last night. I was about to get off the couch, or get out of bed, or do my exercises. A familiar sense of dread arose: to do this thing I am going to have to power through that brief but distinctly unpleasant feeling, that clenching, that resistance, that tightening of the throat that happens when I just think about moving. I investigated the clenching, saw if I could relax into it ... then something let go. I observed myself taking a deep breath as a pleasant tingling coursed through my body. Incredible. And repeatable.
The word alchemy comes to mind: it is as though I've turned lead into gold.
Openings
Over the past 24 hours I've discovered new bodily sensations that I'd been suppressing, and I've been opening to them. Just prior to this I had three experiences that may have set the stage for this new opening:
1. Sunday morning I heard a talk by Gil Fronsdal at the Insight Meditation Center in Redwood City. Gil was my first teacher of Vipassana meditation in 2000. Gil spoke about skillfulness in daily life. He said that one can approach one's day by trying to find, in each moment, the most skillful way to be. He said that there are different styles for this practice, suitable to different personalities: playfulness, gamification, following a set of instructions, opening wide and not-doing. He found that when he began approaching life in this way, he thought it might be draining, but instead found it energizing.
2. Monday morning I had a psychotherapy session via skype with T. During the session I felt stuck in some very young feelings.
3. Tuesday morning on the train from the airport to work, I read bits of The Power of Now over the shoulder of another passenger. It spoke of the importance of being aware of the inner body.
Yesterday evening I spent a few hours with Eric. There was friction from time to time, and I weathered it all without withdrawing. Each time I was able to open to the desire and sadness beneath the anger. I was able to stay close and become closer. I had the exciting revelation: any time I am with Eric is an opportunity to connect. I don't need him to give me attention, I don't need him to be any particular way. If his attention is elsewhere, or if he is talking about something that angers me -- all is opportunity to practice being with my own reactions. I realized afresh that when I am with him (or any person) I am constantly maneuvering to keep their attention and prevent them from being angry. What a delight to stop maneuvering!
This morning upon waking I opened to various sensations and found I was energized to arise at 6:30 even though I'd had only 6.5 hours of sleep.
1. Sunday morning I heard a talk by Gil Fronsdal at the Insight Meditation Center in Redwood City. Gil was my first teacher of Vipassana meditation in 2000. Gil spoke about skillfulness in daily life. He said that one can approach one's day by trying to find, in each moment, the most skillful way to be. He said that there are different styles for this practice, suitable to different personalities: playfulness, gamification, following a set of instructions, opening wide and not-doing. He found that when he began approaching life in this way, he thought it might be draining, but instead found it energizing.
2. Monday morning I had a psychotherapy session via skype with T. During the session I felt stuck in some very young feelings.
3. Tuesday morning on the train from the airport to work, I read bits of The Power of Now over the shoulder of another passenger. It spoke of the importance of being aware of the inner body.
Yesterday evening I spent a few hours with Eric. There was friction from time to time, and I weathered it all without withdrawing. Each time I was able to open to the desire and sadness beneath the anger. I was able to stay close and become closer. I had the exciting revelation: any time I am with Eric is an opportunity to connect. I don't need him to give me attention, I don't need him to be any particular way. If his attention is elsewhere, or if he is talking about something that angers me -- all is opportunity to practice being with my own reactions. I realized afresh that when I am with him (or any person) I am constantly maneuvering to keep their attention and prevent them from being angry. What a delight to stop maneuvering!
This morning upon waking I opened to various sensations and found I was energized to arise at 6:30 even though I'd had only 6.5 hours of sleep.
Wednesday, February 4, 2015
The cessation of dukkha before enlightenment
On the bus home this evening I read from Philip Moffitt's "Dancing With Life". I bought this book shortly after I emerged from the Forest Refuge in November 2011 and read it cover-to-cover immediately and liked it very much. I've been picking it up again lately to read during lunch. Yesterday I was quite taken with his description of cessation and the practices that one might do regarding cessation. He suggested several subtle practices, one of which was simply to notice each moment whether one was suffering or not. He used the word cessation to refer, not only to the cessation of dukkha that occurs at the moment of path attainment, nor to the final and permanent cessation of dukkha that occurs at full enlightenment -- but also to the cessation of each individual moment of dukkha. It is inspiring to think that these are all cessation, all essentially the same experience, and that we each experience cessation countless times per day. I re-read this stuff on the bus home today and immediately began practicing it. I continued to practice it during the evening's sitting with the Extra Fancy Lotus Sisters. I experienced significant freedom with this practice: dukkha seemed less scary, perhaps because I was seeing it more clearly than usual.
Practice has been so interesting and rewarding lately. As I write this I know that I ought not to cling to how interesting and rewarding it's been. I may reach a plateau where I seem to learn nothing. I am indeed clinging to the excitement of practice now; it is hard to imagine that it will plateau. Though I ought not to cling, in some sense I cannot help clinging. All I can do is observe the clinging. Maybe that will be my meditation as I fall asleep.
Practice has been so interesting and rewarding lately. As I write this I know that I ought not to cling to how interesting and rewarding it's been. I may reach a plateau where I seem to learn nothing. I am indeed clinging to the excitement of practice now; it is hard to imagine that it will plateau. Though I ought not to cling, in some sense I cannot help clinging. All I can do is observe the clinging. Maybe that will be my meditation as I fall asleep.
Tuesday, February 3, 2015
Fear of leaving childhood behind
For many years I have felt fear upon waking. My coping strategy for the past few years has been to sit up in bed and do noting practice or other meditation. This is very effective at allowing the uncomfortable sensations and thoughts to pass. Affirmations can also ease the discomfort. During the first few minutes of meditation or affirmation practice, strong sensations course through my body.
The thing I don't like about these strategies is that they require me to leave the coziness and warmth of lying under the covers. I've tried many a time to do these practices while lying down, but I just don't seem to have the concentration while lying down.
Today I tried again, but made a special effort to listen to the child self. As the strong sensations arise, she says, "Don't! I don't want to wake up! I want to be asleep! I'm afraid!" I look at the sensations and notice that they are not unpleasant. They remind me of anger, fear, and desire, all at the same time. I sense that what comes to the fore is desire and that I am afraid of the desire, afraid of the repercussions of acting on it. Also when I observe the desire I experience vague images of shooting out into space very fast and then being sad that I have left my childhood behind.
The thing I don't like about these strategies is that they require me to leave the coziness and warmth of lying under the covers. I've tried many a time to do these practices while lying down, but I just don't seem to have the concentration while lying down.
Today I tried again, but made a special effort to listen to the child self. As the strong sensations arise, she says, "Don't! I don't want to wake up! I want to be asleep! I'm afraid!" I look at the sensations and notice that they are not unpleasant. They remind me of anger, fear, and desire, all at the same time. I sense that what comes to the fore is desire and that I am afraid of the desire, afraid of the repercussions of acting on it. Also when I observe the desire I experience vague images of shooting out into space very fast and then being sad that I have left my childhood behind.
Saturday, January 31, 2015
Habitual regret and self-punishment
Numerous times throughout each day I experience something I think of as sudden regret and self-punishment. I notice some action or non-action of mine and immediately feel an unpleasant clenching in my chest and throat and a stoppage of breathing, and a mind-state that I think of as "feeling bad about myself". Very recently it occurred to me that this experience is composed of two parts: first, a part of my self telling another part of myself, "You stupid idiot!" Second, a bearing down or clenching to silence that voice and perhaps punish myself.
As usual, I feel delight upon noticing my experience in finer detail. The experience feels lighter and therefore I have more freedom in my life overall. It could be seen as bad news that I am calling myself an idiot over and over throughout the day. I had heard before of people who call themselves idiots and felt a small bit of pride that I was not one of those people. Now I see that I am, but I feel happy and free to see this.
This morning during a 5 minute sit I encouraged the inner voice to freely and completely say "You stupid idiot!"; I relaxed so as not to subsequently clench and silence. That made the experience pleasant and even comical.
I've been developing a view of this sudden regret and self-punishment as an effort of the ego to maintain its illusion of control. I experience this regret/self-punishment fleetingly every time I sit to meditate: "You should be meditating more. Whatever you were doing before this sitting, you should have been doing something more beneficial, probably meditating." I have become so dis-identified from this habitual regret-upon-sitting that I greet it almost as a familiar friend and allow it to pass in one second or less. However in other areas of my life, times when I am not sitting to meditate, I usually still identify with, and suffer from, this regret/self-punishment habit.
When I look at all the things I regret doing or not doing, I see that it is utterly impossible for me to avoid all the things I regret doing and to do all the things I regret not doing. To begin with, many of them are incompatible with each other. For example, I regret that I haven't switched to a job I love, I regret that I wish to escape my current job without resolving the issues that arise there, I regret that I work at a job at all (I should be meditating 24/7). I can either stay at my current job and resolve the issues there, switch to another job, or be unemployed -- cannot do all three. Whichever I choose, this voice will express regret that I haven't chosen the others.
As usual, I feel delight upon noticing my experience in finer detail. The experience feels lighter and therefore I have more freedom in my life overall. It could be seen as bad news that I am calling myself an idiot over and over throughout the day. I had heard before of people who call themselves idiots and felt a small bit of pride that I was not one of those people. Now I see that I am, but I feel happy and free to see this.
This morning during a 5 minute sit I encouraged the inner voice to freely and completely say "You stupid idiot!"; I relaxed so as not to subsequently clench and silence. That made the experience pleasant and even comical.
I've been developing a view of this sudden regret and self-punishment as an effort of the ego to maintain its illusion of control. I experience this regret/self-punishment fleetingly every time I sit to meditate: "You should be meditating more. Whatever you were doing before this sitting, you should have been doing something more beneficial, probably meditating." I have become so dis-identified from this habitual regret-upon-sitting that I greet it almost as a familiar friend and allow it to pass in one second or less. However in other areas of my life, times when I am not sitting to meditate, I usually still identify with, and suffer from, this regret/self-punishment habit.
When I look at all the things I regret doing or not doing, I see that it is utterly impossible for me to avoid all the things I regret doing and to do all the things I regret not doing. To begin with, many of them are incompatible with each other. For example, I regret that I haven't switched to a job I love, I regret that I wish to escape my current job without resolving the issues that arise there, I regret that I work at a job at all (I should be meditating 24/7). I can either stay at my current job and resolve the issues there, switch to another job, or be unemployed -- cannot do all three. Whichever I choose, this voice will express regret that I haven't chosen the others.
Friday, January 30, 2015
Smashed
I had another session with my child self this morning after returning from my Friday stair run. I've been feeling really distressed when thinking about advocating on my Mom's behalf regarding her care in the dementia care home. So I looked at that distress and asked my child self what she had to say. I sat in the attic with my hugging pillow for about 30 minutes. The child self wasn't speaking very easily; in the middle she said, "let's not think about this anymore, let's go do something else." But I persevered in asking her what she had to say. Eventually I realized that there was something so terrifying in my consciousness, and so ever-present, that it was almost invisible to me. It was the sense that I was about to be smashed. OK, the sense that I'm about to be smashed is something I've been aware of, but the looming terror of it, I hadn't seen before. I didn't imagine pain, I didn't imagine the actual being smashed, but what I imagined was that I would be stopped cold in my tracks and silenced.
Thursday, January 29, 2015
A session with my child self
Went out for dinner with Z this evening. Starting when we arranged this dinner at 5:00, and continuing through dinner and a walk until we got home at 7:00, I felt pent up. I was pretty sure that a session with my child self would make me feel better. So I sat on the brown couch, put an afghan over my lap, put a brown couch cushion over that, leaned over the cushion, and allowed my child self to speak.
Speaking with my child self is a skill I've been developing slowly over the last two or three years. I'm pleased with the proficiency I've developed. Now, often, when I'm agitated in some way, I can easily see it as my child self being in distress. As I've written in many posts since the start of this blog, my emotions present themselves largely as strong sensations in the right side of my body, and more and more I've been viewing these sensations as the physical manifestation of my child self.
So now when I'm agitated I can ask my child self, "What's up?" And she will almost always have something to say. I'm not embarrassed anymore to do this.
I want to make clear: when she speaks, it's not like a hallucination. I don't hear a voice as though from outside myself. It's more like this: I tune into the urges and emotions in the body and make an effort to give voice to them. What comes out (silently) is not unlike what comes out when I am lashing out in frustration at a loved one. Basically, I'm splitting myself into two personas, child and adult, and giving the child my emotions while the adult calmly witnesses and comforts. When I first read (in books) and heard (from my therapist, T) about this practice, it seemed distasteful and hard to do. But now I find it enjoyable and very useful.
Here is the interaction I had with my child self while I sat with her for about an hour today:
Child: I am so agitated I don't know where to begin and I can barely speak. There is not enough time. I'm not doing the right thing. There isn't enough time! I don't know what to do! Not enough time, don't know what to do (repeated for several minutes). ... I'm very angry and frustrated. I want to be alone with you. Why did you invite Z to come sit with us? (I had indeed invited Z to sit next to me on the brown couch.) Now I have to be on guard. I am not going to be able to relax!
(As it happened, Z did come to sit with me, and she reached out and hugged me and squeezed me rather vigorously.)
Child: (Feeling even more agitated) I told you! I told you she would attack us! Why didn't you protect me? Why did you let her sit with us? I'm never safe! I wish we could be alone together.
Adult: Do you want to go up into the attic?
Child: No, I don't want to be up there, I want to be here where there is life. Up there it is so alone and almost suffocating. If we go up there I will become quiet and probably fall asleep.
Child: (Calming down after being heard for 5-10 minutes after Z left) I am so glad to be alone with you. There are so many things I want to tell you!
Adult: What would you like to say? I am eager to hear.
Child: So many things! But, I can't think right now of what they are. But I can't wait to think of them, because I really want to tell you. Some bad things happened to me, and I want to tell you all about it. I am so glad to be with you.
Child: (Later.) Actually I can't think of anything to say. But I can feel all these sensations. I just want to be here with you and feel them. I want to feel pleasure. The front window of the living room is so beautiful, the pattern of light and shadow on the mist-covered glass, so very beautiful. I feel such longing. So much longing. I don't know what I want. I don't know what I want. (Sensations of longing felt mostly in right jaw, sensations I've experienced for at least the past 3 years.)
At this point I felt the session with my child self had come to a close. She seemed content, OK with me moving on to outer-directed activities. I arose to write this blog post.
Speaking with my child self is a skill I've been developing slowly over the last two or three years. I'm pleased with the proficiency I've developed. Now, often, when I'm agitated in some way, I can easily see it as my child self being in distress. As I've written in many posts since the start of this blog, my emotions present themselves largely as strong sensations in the right side of my body, and more and more I've been viewing these sensations as the physical manifestation of my child self.
So now when I'm agitated I can ask my child self, "What's up?" And she will almost always have something to say. I'm not embarrassed anymore to do this.
I want to make clear: when she speaks, it's not like a hallucination. I don't hear a voice as though from outside myself. It's more like this: I tune into the urges and emotions in the body and make an effort to give voice to them. What comes out (silently) is not unlike what comes out when I am lashing out in frustration at a loved one. Basically, I'm splitting myself into two personas, child and adult, and giving the child my emotions while the adult calmly witnesses and comforts. When I first read (in books) and heard (from my therapist, T) about this practice, it seemed distasteful and hard to do. But now I find it enjoyable and very useful.
Here is the interaction I had with my child self while I sat with her for about an hour today:
Child: I am so agitated I don't know where to begin and I can barely speak. There is not enough time. I'm not doing the right thing. There isn't enough time! I don't know what to do! Not enough time, don't know what to do (repeated for several minutes). ... I'm very angry and frustrated. I want to be alone with you. Why did you invite Z to come sit with us? (I had indeed invited Z to sit next to me on the brown couch.) Now I have to be on guard. I am not going to be able to relax!
(As it happened, Z did come to sit with me, and she reached out and hugged me and squeezed me rather vigorously.)
Child: (Feeling even more agitated) I told you! I told you she would attack us! Why didn't you protect me? Why did you let her sit with us? I'm never safe! I wish we could be alone together.
Adult: Do you want to go up into the attic?
Child: No, I don't want to be up there, I want to be here where there is life. Up there it is so alone and almost suffocating. If we go up there I will become quiet and probably fall asleep.
Child: (Calming down after being heard for 5-10 minutes after Z left) I am so glad to be alone with you. There are so many things I want to tell you!
Adult: What would you like to say? I am eager to hear.
Child: So many things! But, I can't think right now of what they are. But I can't wait to think of them, because I really want to tell you. Some bad things happened to me, and I want to tell you all about it. I am so glad to be with you.
Child: (Later.) Actually I can't think of anything to say. But I can feel all these sensations. I just want to be here with you and feel them. I want to feel pleasure. The front window of the living room is so beautiful, the pattern of light and shadow on the mist-covered glass, so very beautiful. I feel such longing. So much longing. I don't know what I want. I don't know what I want. (Sensations of longing felt mostly in right jaw, sensations I've experienced for at least the past 3 years.)
At this point I felt the session with my child self had come to a close. She seemed content, OK with me moving on to outer-directed activities. I arose to write this blog post.
Saturday, January 3, 2015
Working with anger ... yet again
Learning to tolerate anger has been a long, slow, but rewarding process for me.
Just now, Eric was expressing frustration and disappointment that his day had not gone as well as he wished. This typically triggers aversion and anger for me. His expressions of anger continued for about 30 minutes. Toward the end I had a strong urge to distance myself. First I tried to stop my aversion and anger by controlling Eric's actions. But, as usual, this was not effective. Then I considered escape, coupled by emotional distancing: "I don't have to subject myself to this outburst!"
But then I realized that Eric's upset was an excellent opportunity for practice. I had no other tasks I had to attend to. We were in a private and comfortable place. I could witness Eric's agitation and attend to the reactions in my own body. I reminded myself that the problem was within me -- it was my psyche that was reacting to the agitation. I observed the sensations and the associated stories. Increasingly, I notice the anatta of the sensations -- that they occur of their own accord, without my direction. This made them easier to let go of. It was quite a show -- tensings in various parts of the body. The stories took more effort to discern. I asked the inner child what she had to say. "I'm not going to get what I want! I'm out of control! I can't make him do what I want him to do!"
Just now, Eric was expressing frustration and disappointment that his day had not gone as well as he wished. This typically triggers aversion and anger for me. His expressions of anger continued for about 30 minutes. Toward the end I had a strong urge to distance myself. First I tried to stop my aversion and anger by controlling Eric's actions. But, as usual, this was not effective. Then I considered escape, coupled by emotional distancing: "I don't have to subject myself to this outburst!"
But then I realized that Eric's upset was an excellent opportunity for practice. I had no other tasks I had to attend to. We were in a private and comfortable place. I could witness Eric's agitation and attend to the reactions in my own body. I reminded myself that the problem was within me -- it was my psyche that was reacting to the agitation. I observed the sensations and the associated stories. Increasingly, I notice the anatta of the sensations -- that they occur of their own accord, without my direction. This made them easier to let go of. It was quite a show -- tensings in various parts of the body. The stories took more effort to discern. I asked the inner child what she had to say. "I'm not going to get what I want! I'm out of control! I can't make him do what I want him to do!"
Desire for disability and death
I've been doing affirmations about my health:
My doctor referred me to a podiatrist to treat my foot soreness. The diagnosis is plantar fasciitis. But what about the soreness in my hips and hands? I suspect something systemic, and it seems likely that the mind can both cause and correct systemic imbalances, at least to some degree.
A big reason I'm focused on a mental approach is that I see clearly an attachment to illness. I see a desire to have something to fix, something to worry about. Something to keep me company. Without a problem to solve, I feel alone, adrift, uncomfortable. What juicy material to work with!
Another mental dynamic: I am now so aware of my own fragility and mortality that I want both disability and death to come soon so I can get it over with, rather than fear it. As recently as 10 years ago I believed that with my good genetics, vigorous exercise, yoga, meditation, decent diet, and positive attitude, I would avoid nearly all frailties of age. I would be strong, flexible, and vigorous into my 80s and 90s. Now I see that the frailty of age affects everyone. Some more than others or sooner than others, certainly, but there is no avoiding it. Further, I see how dismal the prospects are for old people who are frail: the loss of control, the loss of personhood in the eyes of society. Perhaps I'd rather be middle-aged and frail rather than wait to be old and frail.
I want to investigate and soften these mental dynamics so that I will live vigorously as long as possible. After all, "with good health I can enjoy and accomplish much".
- My physiology now speedily shifts to healthy balance, and stays in balance
- With good health I can enjoy and accomplish much. I release any need for a health problem as a point of focus.
My doctor referred me to a podiatrist to treat my foot soreness. The diagnosis is plantar fasciitis. But what about the soreness in my hips and hands? I suspect something systemic, and it seems likely that the mind can both cause and correct systemic imbalances, at least to some degree.
A big reason I'm focused on a mental approach is that I see clearly an attachment to illness. I see a desire to have something to fix, something to worry about. Something to keep me company. Without a problem to solve, I feel alone, adrift, uncomfortable. What juicy material to work with!
Another mental dynamic: I am now so aware of my own fragility and mortality that I want both disability and death to come soon so I can get it over with, rather than fear it. As recently as 10 years ago I believed that with my good genetics, vigorous exercise, yoga, meditation, decent diet, and positive attitude, I would avoid nearly all frailties of age. I would be strong, flexible, and vigorous into my 80s and 90s. Now I see that the frailty of age affects everyone. Some more than others or sooner than others, certainly, but there is no avoiding it. Further, I see how dismal the prospects are for old people who are frail: the loss of control, the loss of personhood in the eyes of society. Perhaps I'd rather be middle-aged and frail rather than wait to be old and frail.
I want to investigate and soften these mental dynamics so that I will live vigorously as long as possible. After all, "with good health I can enjoy and accomplish much".
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