Tag: Fear

Ups and downs

Karl DuffyLeave a comment

We can notice our mind changing hundreds of times in the day, from liking to disliking, being content to being unhappy, calm to agitated. We can start the day being nervous about an upcoming meeting. Then find ourselves delighted as the meeting goes well, leaving us feeling very positive about ourselves and the future. Then afterwards we can get into a misunderstanding with a friend or colleague after which we find ourselves feeling very negative about ourselves and about the future. Up and down, down and up.

The mind can move quickly from being spacious to being narrow when it encounters something which is negative. However, what we label as “negative” often just means that we think that reality will not fit into the way that we want, or we can’t have something we think we need. We find that the mind contracts and feels tight, and then normally starts immediately to work on a story to defend that tightness, exaggerating negative aspects of people or situations, or other objects of our bad feelings. If we are focused on other people, it normally starts with statements about other people – “They are in the wrong, they cannot listen” and then moves on to statements about the future – “There is no point trying, this will never work out”

If we can become aware of this dynamic, the heart can move from its defensive pattern to pausing, then to being open and appreciative. The normal sequence for these changing mind states goes something like this: “This is the way I want things”….. “I like it”…. “If I cannot have it like this, I am sad, I am angry”….and then through practice….”this moment is just like this”. This pattern is the same whether the matter is great or small, although the intensity can vary hugely. It can sometimes flare out strongly as jealousy or anger if we allow ourselves be convinced that we are missing out on something that we really want.

In the end, we quieten down in two steps. The first is that the mind stops struggling with reality and says, “I wanted something different, but this is what I have.” The second is when we can rejoice in the new situation and be genuinely happy that it has turned out like this, for ourselves or for other people. One of the greatest antidotes for the feeling of hurt is to cultivate positive feelings or blessings towards others. This works against the mind’s tendency to think that someone else’s joy is actually taking away from our joy. Instead, we find that when the mind is relaxed, it does not feel needy, and does not need to defend itself.

We have two kinds of fears. One is a fear that whatever is going on is going to go on forever. It’s just not true – nothing goes on forever. The other is the fear that, even if it doesn’t go on forever, the pain of whatever is happening will be so terrible we won’t be able to stand it. There is a gut level of truth about this fear. It would be ridiculous to pretend that in our lives, in these physical bodies, which can hurt very much, and in relationships that can hurt very much, there aren’t some very, very painful times. Even so, I think we underestimate ourselves. Terrible as times may be, I believe we can stand them.

Because we become frightened as soon as a difficult mind state blows into the mind, we start to fight with it. We try to change it, or we try to get rid of it. The frenzy of the struggle makes the mind state even more unpleasant.

The familiar image is a children’s cartoon character, like Daffy Duck, walking along freely and suddenly stepping into toffee. In a hasty, awkward attempt to extricate himself, he might fall forward and backward and eventually be totally stuck in the toffee. The best solution would be the nonalarmed recognition, ‘This is toffee. I didn’t see it as I stepped into it, but I felt it after I got stuck. It’s just toffee. The whole world is not made out of toffee. What would be a wise thing for me to do now?’

Sylvia Boorstein, It’s Easier Than You Think

Not letting our fears control us 3: Stop running

Karl DuffyLeave a comment

We are often – even sometimes without being aware of it – driven by fear. I do not mean the nervousness that comes if we have to go to a difficult meeting or give a presentation, or the useful type of stress which allows us perform better. What I mean is a deeper, more fundamental type of fear, a more deep-seated anxiety, which appears and reappears or can keep us awake at night. This type of fear is only intensified by our normal strategies to push it away, or to distract ourselves from noticing it. All that does is play with the fear, like the cat with the mouse, pushing it away briefly so as to allow it return even more nervous.

All fear is really related to our desire for safety, to feel secure in this world, a world which is by its nature insecure and unreliable. This is deeply ingrained in our make-up after centuries of evolution. However, the deeper roots of this anxiety comes from the fear to be with ourselves. We can see this most clearly when we sit down to practice. Our minds will do anything to avoid just being in the simple present with ourselves, and will run to thinking and planning and dreaming. We can notice that a lot of this thinking revolves around fixing ourselves, our lives and others.

And why are we afraid to be with ourselves? Because if we are forced to be just with ourselves we might feel that we are not good enough, that we may not measure up to the standards which we or others have set for us and which we have internalized. It is hard to be just with oneself, and not discuss with, or ask permission from, the presences in our heads, with whom we unconsciously and continually dialogue. To defend ourselves, we construct stories and fantasies, perfect futures which we use to distract from a not-so-perfect present. Fear is what happens when these stories run up against the reality of daily life and our deep inner selves. Other common strategies we use to avoid facing ourselves is that we keep extra busy, or throw ourselves into work, hobbies, a relationship or something else outside ourselves.

However, what we gradually see is that the whole purpose of practice is to work with our heart in the presence of our fears. Not in the way that many who start meditation think, namely, that it will make all fears go away. On the contrary, people often lament that they notice much more fears and anxiety after they started practicing and things were calmer before. What practice gradually does is stop us running. It gives us the courage to stay. That is why I love the simplest of all meditation instructions, the simple “Take your seat”. If we can do that consistently, and gently stay with ourselves, we go against the natural instinct of the fear and the slow healing can begin.

Worrying

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The roots of the word “worry” comes from an old Anglo-Saxon word, Wyrgan. It originally meant to strangle, choke, or tear at the throat with teeth. It was used of animals who would attack other animals, such as dogs biting the throat of sheep. We can still see this use when we speak of a cat worrying a mouse. Cats play with their prey before they kill it, sometimes throwing it up in the air or slapping it back when it seems about to escape.

Yesterday morning, bright and early, our cat Barney proudly brought a big mouse into the house and let it free in the hall. Having safely confined Barney in another part of the house I was surprised to see the mouse sitting on a shoe, licking itself, apparantly unbothered. Without too much difficulty I managed to catch him in a plastic container and release him outside, much to Barney’s disappointment.

Our modern use of the word worry started out life in a similar way to this animal meaning, as “to cause mental anguish”. It later developed into its more common modern days sense of “to feel mental anguish”. Reflecting on the early morning cat and mouse tale, I felt that the original sense has much to tell us. We frequently worry ourselves, cause ourselves mental anguish. We have a lot of input into the process, and can sometimes return to an issue, just like a cat playing with a mouse. We can generate negative thoughts, imagine catastrophies, increasing our anxiety by developing scenarios which may never actually occur. In this way we “play” with a situation which may be simply registering in the body as a physical feeling and refuse to let it just be that.

As one meditation teacher reminded us, we should always notice the “add-ons” – the stories we bring to an experience. We may be feeling nervous about starting out on a new process, but then we add on stories about our worth or how our past has developed. We may be shy making friends, but then we add on a commentary as to how we will never be happy. We may have made a mistake and then exaggerate it into something that reflects our whole life and conduct.

One way to do this is to try and stay in the present, with the raw experience of the situation, and not add to it by remembering past qualities or mistakes, or move to the future by picturing certain outcomes. We can try and stop “playing” with our problem, like the cat does with the mouse, stop returning to it again and again, stop worrying it. We can try and let the situation just be, rather than returning to it, mistakingly thinking that this is a better way to “fix it”. We can let it go free.

We need to examine that notion of “fixing” ……. We need to question our concepts about how we want things to be and what we want people to become. If we can let go of some of that, we can see more clearly what we can and cannot do. We can learn not to obsess about all the problems we cannot solve, but to sort through them to find the one or two things we can actually do that might be helpful. It is better to do one small helpful thing than punish yourself for the many things beyond your power and ability to change or affect. Some problems can be solved, some cannot, and some are best left unsolved.

Judy Lief, The problem with problems