Appreciate the goodness within

When you relax more and appreciate your body and mind, you begin to contact the fundamental notion of basic goodness in yourself. So it is extremely important to be willing to open yourself to yourself. Developing tenderness towards yourself allows you to see both your problems and your potential accurately. You don’t feel that you have to ignore your problems or exaggerate your potential. That kind of gentleness towards yourself and appreciation of yourself is very necessary. It provides the ground for helping yourself and others.

Chogyam Trungpa, Shambhala: Sacred Path of the Warrior

Changing our attitude towards ourselves

Here – as always in his wise and clear way – Ajahn Sumedho gives us the practical way of working each day with this desire to fix ourselves. Not investing energy in our self-obsessive patterns is the best way of removing their hold on us:

We may not be the way we would like. There are many things about my personality that I can be very critical of. I don’t like myself that much or approve of myself on a personal level. I now see that as part of the path, not as an obstruction. So no matter what way you are right now – no matter how critical you might be, or how inadequate you might feel – change the attitude to one of learning from the way you are right now. Rather than trying to become something – rather than trying to get rid of the negativity, restlessness and confusion because you think these are flaws or defects that block you from enlightenment – just don’t believe any of that. Your conditioned mind will say anything, it is completely untrustworthy. That which we can really trust is the awareness.

Ajahn Sumedho, The Sound of Silence

…And seeing problems as openings

A hugely important distinction is made here, one which saves us from the deep tendency we have to find problems with who or where we are. It allows for a much more nuanced view on the setbacks we find in life and in our inner selves, seeing that growth often happens in roundabout ways. 

Another problem with the idea of self-improvement is that it implies that there is something wrong with who we are. Everyone wants to be someone else, but getting to know yourself and love yourself means accepting who you are, complete with your inadequacies and irrationalities. Only by loving he soul in its entirety can we really love ourselves. This does not mean that we cannot hope to live a fuller life or become a better person, but there is a difference between self-improvement and the unfolding of the soul.  In the latter we don’t take the attitude of perfection; rather we draw close to those things that we feel as imperfect and let them be the openings through which the potentiality of the soul enters into life.

Thomas Moore, Soul Mates

Continual Partial Attention

Two observations, from different perspectives. One from Linda Stone, who used to work at Apple and who now writes on the effect of the internet and other technologies on our overall wellbeing. The other from Thomas Merton, the Catholic monk, reflecting on the effect of noise. Written over 40 years apart, with different epistemologies, they come to similar conclusions.

We pay continuous partial attention in an effort NOT TO MISS ANYTHING. It is an always-on, anywhere, anytime, any place behavior that involves an artificial sense of constant crisis. We are always in high alert when we pay continuous partial attention. This artificial sense of constant crisis is more typical of continuous partial attention than it is of multi-tasking. 

Linda Stone, Writer and Consultant, 2009

Now let us frankly face the fact that our culture is one which is geared in many ways to help us evade any need to face this inner, silent self. We live in a state of constant semiattention to the sound of voices, music, traffic, or the generalized noise of what goes on around us all the time. This keeps us immersed in a flood of racket and words, a diffuse medium in which our consciousness is half diluted: we are not quite ‘thinking,’ not entirely responding, but we are more or less there. We are not fully present and not entirely absent; not fully withdrawn, yet not completely available. It cannot be said that we are really participating in anything and we may, in fact, be half conscious of our alienation and resentment. Yet we derive a certain comfort from the vague sense that we are ‘part of’ something – although we are not quite able to define what that something is – and probably wouldn’t want to define it even if we could. We just float along in the general noise. Resigned and indifferent, we share semiconsciously in the mindless mind of Muzak and radio commercials which passes for ‘reality.’

Thomas Merton, Cistercian Monk, 1915 – 1968

The freedom of letting some things go

I may not hope from outward forms to win, The passion and the life, whose fountains are within.    Coleridge

For some people, Ash Wednesday is a day of fasting.   These days  we are quite familiar with the latest diets and slimming fads  – and consequently put a lot of pressure on body conscious people – and they harmonize quite well with a culture preoccupied with image.  The idea of fasting, and the related notion of restraint or renunciation, however, seems somewhat alien. Because of this we lose a link to a deeper process than dieting, rooted in the unconscious. Fasting, like the silence and stillness of meditation, allow us let go of some of the normal practices of each day and we can see then what then arises in the mind. Ceasing some activities or changing routines which have become second nature can be a useful way of reminding  us to turn towards our inner life rather than distracting ourselves from it. We are challenged to declutter our busy life and see where our real priorities lie, to travel lighter.  So, “letting go”, in this sense, means not buying into automatic habits and patterns of mind, which limit us into kinds of contraction, and seeing what can be done differently. We become more fluid and can experiment with the space which this gives to act with greater creativity.

Sacrifice is an important concept for anyone interested in leading a religious life, but most people today seems to think that sacrifice means giving something up. This is how shallow our religious sense has become. Sacrifice really involves the art of drawing energy from one level and reinvesting it at another level to produce a higher form of consciousness.

Robert Johnson, Jungian Analyst

Holding the parts of our life together

The current understanding of work-life balance is too simplistic. People find it hard to balance work with family, family with self, because it might not be a question of balance. Some other dynamic is at play, something to do with a very human attempt at happiness that does not quantify different parts of life and often set them against one another. We are collectively exhausted because of our inability to hold competing parts of ourselves together in a more integrated way. These hidden human dynamics of integration are more of a conversation, more of a synthesis and more of an almost religious and sometimes delirious quest for meaning than a simple attempt at daily ease and contentment.

David Whyte, The Three Marriages: Reimagining work, self and Relationship