Trusting our natural wisdom

Allie shared this lovely poem from Rumi at our MBSR Course last evening.  It harmonizes well with the intention of the Course – using our body’s natural wisdom to help us deal with the challenges of life. Mindfulness is a practice of simple presence, before we attach any labels, stories or descriptions to what is happening in our life. Each day we practice shifting our attention, making ourselves available to the moment as it presents itself. In this way, our natural wisdom can reveal itself.

There are two kinds of intelligence: one acquired, as a child in school memorizes facts and concepts from books and from what the teacher says, collecting information from the traditional sciences as well as from the new sciences.

With such intelligence you rise in the world.
You get ranked ahead or behind others in regard to your competence in retaining
information. You stroll with this intelligence in and out of fields of knowledge, getting always more marks on your preserving tablets.

There is another kind of tablet, one already completed and preserved inside you.
A spring overflowing its springbox.  A freshness in the center of the chest. This other intelligence does not turn yellow or stagnate. It’s fluid, and it doesn’t move from outside to inside through conduits of plumbing-learning.

This second knowing is a fountainhead,  from within you, moving out.

Rumi, Two Kinds of Intelligence.

Two ways of working with our fear

A quotation from Pema Chodron –  in the same theme as posts from the last few days – on our need to turn towards the fundamental groundlessness which exists in life and in our hearts. The actual practice is outlined here –  becoming aware of how fear manifests itself in our body and trying to stay with that, rather than moving into stories of blame or defectiveness. 

Raw fear initially emerges as a dot in space, as a doorway that can go either way.  If we choose to take notice of the actual experience of fear, whether it is just a queasy feeling in our stomach or actual terror, whether it is a subtle level of discomfort or mind-numbing dramatic anxiety, we can smile at it, believe it or not. It could be a literal smile or a metaphor for coming to know fear, turning towards fear, touching fear. In that case, rather than fear setting off a chain reaction where you are trying to protect yourself from it, it becomes a source of tenderness. We experience our vulnerability, but we don’t feel that we have to harden ourselves in response…We’re all very familiar with the experience of fear escalating, or the experience of running away from fear. But have we ever taken the time to truly touch our fear, to be present with it and experience it fully?  Do we know what it might mean to smile at fear?

Pema Chodron, Smile at Fear

Moving into disorder

In human beings there is a constant tension between order and disorder, connectedness and loneliness, evolution and revolution, security and insecurity. Our universe is constantly evolving: the old order gives way to a new order and this in its turn crumbles when the next order appears. It is no different in our lives in the movement from birth to death. Change of one sort or another is the essence of life… when we try to prevent the forward movement of life, we may succeed for a while… but inevitably there is an explosion.

To be human is to create sufficient order so that we can move on into insecurity and seeming disorder.

In this way we discover the new.

Jean Vanier, Becoming Human

Accepting our emptiness

Following on from yesterday’s post, and applying it to our notions of psychological growth and maturity. Just as in nature, we need to be able to tolerate – and stop fighting with – the complexity,  disruptions, reversals and emptiness which are part of the normal human condition, and stop seeing them as unusual or as enemies to growth. In this way we move away from trying to get rid of them,  to accepting and authenticating them.

In our zeal to eliminate the ghosts of our childhood, to nourish the empty places of emotional insufficiency and to achieve the pinnacle of psychological development…we were treating feelings of emptiness as something that needed to be fixed and cured, and therefore losing the ground upon which we rest. Our aversion to emptiness is such that we have become experts at explaining it away, distancing ourselves from it, or assigning blame for its existence on the past or on the faults of others. We contaminate it with our personal histories and expect that it will disappear when we have resolved our personal problems. Thus. Western psychologists are trained to understand a report of emptiness as indicative of a deficiency in someone’s emotional upbringing, a defect in character, a defense against overwhelming feelings of aggression, or as a stand-in for feelings of inadequacy. Since most of us share one or more of these traits, it becomes easy to pathologize a feeling that in Buddhism serves as a starting point for self-exploration.

Mark Epstein, Going to Pieces without Falling Apart

On learning from nature

There is often an unspoken assumption that things should go smoothly in life, or that the Universe has a direct plan for us, and that it communicates it easily. Consequently,  we get upset that things are not always that straightforward. When things go wrong we can often regard it as a violation of some supposed natural entitlement to order and predictability. However, if we look at the natural world we do not find complete support for this underlying assumption. The recent turbulence in the weather, and the natural disasters of this past year,  demonstrate that things in nature are frequently unpredictable and disruptive.  So we should not expect anything different in our lives. Bad things can happen and our lives can change, in ways that we cannot predict. Things happen in indirect ways, and reasons are not always immediately evident. Patience is needed if we wish to understand or work out what is our path.

Clouds are not spheres,  Mountains are not cones, 

Coastlines are not circles and bark is not smooth,

nor does lightning travel in a straight line. 

Nature exhibits not simply a higher degree but an altogether different level of complexity.

Benoit Mandelbrot, French-American  mathematician.


Sunday Quote: A still mind, not fixing….

 

God, rest in my heart,

Fortify me

Take away my hunger for answers.

Mary Oliver