About Mind

One of them

March 25, 2010

How do I change the world? It is a hard question to answer, isn’t it? But I found an even harder one: how do I live with the world, and in it? How do I remain myself, when I feel the constant, strong, irresistible pull to be “one of them”?

I’ve been so angry, so frustrated and outraged in the last few days, because of all the changes that are happening in America right now. I would have ranted and raged uncontrollably, had I allowed myself to open my mouth and say anything at all. So I didn’t say anything, not out loud, but the furious argument was running in my mind, all the time, without pause.

I did not know what to do with it, about it … I still don’t know much, but I can see the reaction. I can ask myself: “why does this affect me so much, why is this so personal?” and I can trace it back to the place where I was a child, living in my family’s apartment, and not allowed to be myself.

Yesterday, lying in bed, I felt like I was back in my childhood home, back in Poland. I felt like all the years of MY life have been erased, canceled. I felt like I was one of them again, like them again. Who I was, my own life, my own creations, my own reality – even the possibility of having my own reality, was gone. I did not have my own life anymore, I was part of them, a member in the system, a family system.

And so here I am, no less angry, frustrated, terrified and disgusted … because I feel that I am not allowed to be myself again, because the system (whatever that may be, family, society, law) is intruding into my life and wants to adjust me to match everybody else, so that I am not myself anymore, not a unique, autonomous, independent woman – but simply one of them.

So what do I do? How do I live with society, in a society, but my own way?

Of course I know the answer, I know that it is not a system that is doing this to me, it is not society that forces me to let go of myself. I know that it is I who is not remaining present as who I am, it is I who has collapsed and merged, it is I who let go of being responsible for how I relate.

“Be happy”, Brooks says, “this is a great news! It’s a wonderful opportunity for you to graduate!”

sigh…

I read a question today: “how do you define progress” … and I found myself lacking a definition, lacking any idea, lacking anything at all, on the subject of progress. Nothing I thought about it felt right. My head would persist in providing me with all sorts of reasons why progress was good: the improvement, the growth, the development, the help extended to those in need, the cure for diseases, the better world … but my body was not convinced. My body is not convinced. I sit here right now feeling what progress is, and it feels to me like a mind running wild. Progress feels to me like my mind getting very busy, determined, motivated. It feels to me like my mind creating a whole reality for itself, a story, like a virtual life, where mind sets the rules, values and goals. In this virtual reality everything has to always move forward, because mind can not rest. In this reality things must be always happening, there must be always something to do, more things to do, and more, and more… In this virtual reality, created by my mind, all issues, problems, dilemmas, are solved by more activity, more doing, more creating, better creating, better doing, better, faster, more … As I sit here, observing my mind, seeing where it goes at the though of progress, my body is unmoved. It sits here, warm, comfortable, peaceful. My body sits on a chair. There is no need to move. There is no need to do anything, there is no need at all in my body. It is simply here, present. And it feels good. Calm, relaxed, grounded. I am here. That is all, there is nothing else and there is no need for anything else. The need is in my mind, not in me. Progress is in my mind, not in me. I am here.
I used to be afraid of snakes. Really, honestly and deadly afraid. A thought, an idea that there could be a snake somewhere in the house (if I read a story, or saw a movie with snakes in it) would be enough to scare me to death and keep my legs up and away from the floor for hours. On the main street of the town I live in there are people with snakes sometimes. They bring the snakes in big plastic containers, take them out and let people touch and pet them. I would always keep an eye out for the snake people, making sure to cross the street as soon as I saw them. I couldn’t walk by them. Sometimes, when I’d forget to pay attention and walked to close to the snakes, I would freeze for a moment, then turn around and walk away as quickly as I could. Few days ago I walked down the main street with my husband. The snake people were there. I noticed them and realized that I could walk by them, that the fear wasn’t coming, the paralyzing terror was not showing up. We walked towards the snake people, closer and closer, and still I felt that I didn’t need to run away. I told my husband that I didn’t feel afraid, and he said: great, let’s go then, and walked straight to a lady who was holding a snake, rolled up in a little ball in hear hand. I followed, stopped few steps away from the woman. I felt that this was enough, that it was a huge achievement for me, just to be these close to a snake. The woman came closer, she wanted me to hold the snake, I jumped away. She wanted me to put out my hand, but I wouldn’t. It was terrifying, I wasn’t ready to be this vulnerable with a snake. Instead I extended one finger and touched it a little, on it’s back and on it’s belly. The snake didn’t move, my husband was holding my hand. I was breathing fast, I felt like one does when walking into a cold lake, deeper and deeper into a cold water. The body is in shock at first, tense and ready to jump away, then, slowly, it relaxes, ready to take the plunge. I was not relaxing yet, my body was in shock. Being this close to a snake, this intimate with it, was to much, too intense. I could not hold it, could not stand it, I could not stay present – so I started talking. I asked the woman about the snake, it’s breed, it’s age. As she talked, I relaxed. I felt safer somehow, the talking, mind stepping in and organizing the situation, made me feel safer, calmer. The connection with the snake, the presence of the animal, was not as intense, not as clear, not as immediate. I put my mind and the words between us, like a shield. I felt safer behind it. When the woman asked me to put my hand, palm up, on her palm, I did. She promised me that she would not remove her palm until I was ready, then she put the snake into my hand. I held it. It wasn’t moving. It was rolled into a little ball, looking at me with it’s black eyes, and the woman removed her hand. I held the snake and felt no fear, though my body would not relax. I was breathing too fast, hyperventilating, I begun to feel dizzy and handed the snake back to the woman. I felt faint, I didn’t want to drop it. My husband gave the snake people a donation and I walked away. It took me a while to come dawn, it took my body a while to relax, to let go of the adrenalin, to come back to normal. It was a big deal for me, holding the snake. A big deal that the fear which was always there was now gone. I thought about it a lot, and my thoughts would come back, again and again, to the moment when I could not stay present with the snake, and I talked. It was a big deal for me to hold a snake, and yet I felt I missed something. I missed the real, direct experience, the full experience of the presence of the snake – because I would not stay present, because I started talking. Talking was a distraction, protection. It did not encourage relationship, rather it put a distance between me and the snake, it separated us. Because of fear, I talked. I do feel sometimes that I could feel so much deeper, be so much more present, if I didn’t speak. And yet, it is not speaking itself that is getting in a way, I think. It’s not the language, words, that are distractions, that diminish the experience. It is how I use the language. It is how, and when, and why I speak. I can talk to protect myself, to distract myself, to remove myself from an experience, to keep myself safe. Or I can find my own, unique voice – and then say something. I can speak words that create reality, that are who I am. Then there is no distinction, no separation between me and the words I speak. Then I can say the word – and the world will change. Didn’t God create the world with a word?
My husband sucks, I have decided last night. We walked the dogs, he said something that made me really upset. I wasn’t sure why I was upset exactly, but I knew I was, and I knew it was because of what he said, or the way he said it. He wouldn’t listen to me telling him how wrong he was. When I tried to point out how he was making up stories, putting words in my mouth, he would tell me that I was getting aggressive – a smoke screen, I was sure, to not have to admit his own faults. I stomped off to bed, taking the upset with me. Christopher was getting worse and worse by a second. He was selfish, thoughtless, unwilling to look into himself, unwilling to admit that he was wrong. He was expecting me to always be perfect so that he didn’t have to deal with my upset. It was all up to me – to be present, to be aware, to work on my issues – he would do nothing! I finally exhausted myself into sleep and woke up no less angry and resentful, so I decided we have to have a talk. And we did. I talked about Christopher’s problems and about how unwilling he is to talk about them, how he always tries to focus on me. I told him all about how he isn’t willing, isn’t able, isn’t interested in taking any responsibility for anything. I told him all about how all he wants to talk about is me. He didn’t say much. I didn’t think he needed to say much. I already knew what he was going to say. Eventually He managed to say something, something that sunk in somehow because all of a sudden I stopped talking. All of a sudden I begun to listen. And then I pulled a blanket over my head in mortification, because I realized what a monumental full I’ve made of myself. What a ridiculous, deluded idiot with a superiority complex I was. But I did not see myself in this light last night or this morning. I saw a problem, a big problem, a real problem in our marriage, in Christopher. I saw the injustice of me always doing all the work and him just enjoying the results, I felt the weight of the noble burden of responsibility that those better, more enlightened, more conscious beings (like myself) must carry uncomplaining. What can be expected of the poor, little, unconscious souls after all? They do the best they can, God knows. But it’s oh, such a burden! … I thought. There I was with everything being a problem, with strain and pain, with the world being unjust and myself having to save it. Until I realized the depth of my idiocy … and the world changed. I looked at Christopher and saw a wonderful human being. A man who was willing to sit in front of me, being present with me telling him how unwilling he is to be present. A man who would face me calmly, as I was telling him how unwilling he is to look into himself, to work on himself. A man who would listen quietly to me telling him that our relationship is based on my holding space for it and making it safe for him … as a superior being that I am. Suddenly it became clear to me what presence and awareness this man must have exercised to be able to sit in front of me and listen … and not to kill me on the spot. Suddenly I had a wonderful husband and a fantastic marriage and the world was beautiful. All for a very small price – the realization of what an idiot I was. As I was making breakfast later this morning I thought: how would it be if everyone could see that? How would it be if democrats could see that they are superior idiots, and that republicans are great men and women with a wonderful intelligence, resourcefulness and capacity? How would it be if republicans could see that they are superior idiots, and that democrats are deeply carrying people with love for this planet and it’s occupants and a passion to make being in the world more fun for everyone? How would it be if, in the now famous “Avatar” movie, the Na’vi people could see that they are superior idiots, and that people from earth have great intelligence and wonderful spirit to grow and discover new things? How would it be if the humans could see that they are superior idiots, and that the Na’vis have a great presence and connection to nature that allows them to be alive in ways that humans can’t even imagine? How would it be if the new-age spiritual people could see that they are superior idiots, and that the “normal” people have wonderful drive to develop, to grow, to make the society stronger, more open and vibrant? How would it be if the business people could see that they are superior idiots, and that they new-age spiritual people have a way to connect to the earth, to themselves, to deepen their awareness, to open their presence to unlimited opportunities for having fun in the world? How would it be? How would it be if humans could see that they are superior idiots, and that nature has an amazing presence, a way of being absolutely and beautifully and only what it is? How would it be if all those who want to save Earth could see that they are superior idiots, and that Earth, and it’s expression in nature, is an enormously present and powerful being who can help them open, grow, develop? How would it be? World changed when I realized what a superior idiot I am. It used to be a problem that had to be fixed, solved, saved. Now the world is perfectly, absolutely wonderful. Now I am free to enjoy it.

Must we be good?

January 16, 2010

The last few months were pretty hard for me. Nothing was happening outside, but inside there were realities collapsing, there was death and distraction, pain and sickness. There was opening and falling and reconstructing and falling apart. It kept me very busy, always focused inward, inside. I haven’t seen it like that though, there was no inside and outside, there was only what was real to me. And for the last few months the stories I told myself were the reality. My mind was reality, my trauma was reality. I was sure it was. I had no time, no energy, no attention to spare for the rest of the world. The rest of the world didn’t seem nearly as important, as pressing, as interesting. And so, as I withdrew from the world, so did the world withdrew from me. Phone calls stopped, clients disappeared, jobs did not show up anymore. A couple of weeks ago, after paying my rent, I realized that I have no clue where the next paycheck is going to come from. I knew it’s not good that I don’t know that, I knew that I should be concerned about it, and yet I wasn’t. I tried to focus on the fact that I have nothing to do anymore, but somehow I could not bring it into focus. There wasn’t pain or fear in the idea of having no work and no income, there was only fog. Everything was blurry, there was nothing to hold onto, nothing to think about, and I realized how incredibly unconscious I am, how very not present I’ve become. So I begun to look, I begun to pay attention. I begun to distinguish feelings, emotions, and to accept them, feel them, let go of them. I would look around, I would listen to what people would tell me, to what my husband would tell me. I would look at my reactions and follow them to their cause, and let go of that. I would choose to be present, I would choose to be myself only, over and over again. I could feel a difference in my presence, a difference in how I experienced reality. Everything became sharper, more distinct. I noticed sounds and smells that I wouldn’t have noticed before, too focused on myself. I’ve begun to notice my husband again. After a few days I got the first phone call from a client, then more followed, until I had enough work to keep me busy, and enough money to not have to worry about bills for another few months. Today morning, as I was making my tea, a thought occurred to me: I thought that I was always taught, as we all were, that I have to be good to be happy. I was told that I have to give away, and then I’ll be given in return. I was told that if I’m loving and kind and caring I will be taken care of. I was told that when I don’t think about myself, when I focus on helping others, I will then be given what I need, that the universe will provide. But I was just given what I needed, the universe provided exactly what I was asking for, and I was not being good, kind and loving. I was being present. I did not focus on loving kindness the last couple of weeks. When I realized how lost in my thoughts, lost in my mind I’ve become, I did not attempt to selflessly forget about myself and focus on helping others. After months of being distant and irritable, of being short and snappish, I did not decide to be nice, loving, supportive and attentive. I decided to be present. I decided to be present and I was given all I needed. And I did became kind and loving. Because I was back in my body, back in the world, I was available for relationship. Because I let go of my mind, of all the stories, traumas, problems, fears, I could see others clearly, I could be with others, relate with them as who they are. My mind was not in the way, my stories and ideas of me, of who I am, were not in the way. The change in my relationship was so profound that my husband asked me few times if I’m pretending, playing a game, because who I am is so unlike me. I did become open and selfless and giving and loving and kind and happy naturally, spontaneously, effortlessly. I did not try to, I did not want to, I did not strive to achieve it. I chose to be present. I did not do anything else, just became present. And everything changed.