How life is full of mysteries

Went walking this morning early in the forest around the Sources of the Allendon. It was particularly beautiful in the early morning light. The freshness of nature, the trees covered in moss, the noise of the river and the familiarity of the place relaxed and softened my heart. Nature is often like that: It creates those  moments when we connect and feel spacious. It is not so easy in our everyday life with people: we have learnt to contract and pull away. The beauty of the walk brought to mind this poem by Mary Oliver:

Truly, we live with mysteries too marvelous
to be understood.

How grass can be nourishing in the mouths of the lambs.
How rivers and stones are forever
in allegiance with gravity, while we ourselves dream of rising.
How two hands touch and the bonds
will never be broken.

How people come, from delight or the
scars of damage, to the comfort of a poem.

Let me keep my distance, always, from those
who think they have the answers.

Let me keep company always with those who say
“Look!” and laugh in astonishment,
and bow their heads.

Mary Oliver, Mysteries, Yes

Loneliness at New Year.

Everyone is encouraged to welcome the New Year with a lot of outward energy, seeking to create an identity characterized by us being jolly and looking forward enthusiastically, incarnating confidence and determination. This is the dominant portrayal on the news channels. And yet there is a paradox, because at the same time,  studies show that New Year’s Eve and the days around it are the periods when people feel lowest about themselves. It may be simply that the gap between what they imagine others feel like, and what they actually feel,  makes them feel worse about themselves. But I think it has deeper roots and maybe one of the reasons that people make such an effort around New Years is to cover up a sense of unease deep down inside which they do not know how to work with.

This unease appears in our lives as a underlying sense of not being fully at home, an inner dissatisfaction, a restlessness in the heart. It is described in different ways in different psychological, philosophical and wisdom writings. However, I will simply call it here “loneliness”.  Normally in our lives, we work hard to cover this loneliness up by activity and the things we do as we seek recognition and success.  We like to be involved in a work which is seen by others as valuable and worthwhile. We like to be kept busy. However, it comes more to the surface when we have a break from our usual activities, when we cannot perform or when our imagination lets us down. And because we do not like this feeling and are not sure how to work with it, we try to distract ourselves from it, only to notice that it comes back quickly.

Most people instinctively think that this loneliness is a bad sign and wish to move away from it. And that is how many self-help and psychological approaches would advise. We are encouraged to see if we can find the roots of it, to trace it back to the faults of others and in that way gain some sort of mastery over it. Mindfulness takes a different approach, and it can be a great relief to hear that. Mindfulness is based on the understanding that there is a loneliness or deep restlessness at the heart of life, and that is just the way things are. It does not mean there is anything wrong with our life, or with us,  just because we feel it. It manifests itself as unease and boredom, anxiety and sometimes depression. One of the liberations in mindfulness comes from the fact that it says that life is unsatisfactory, and that everyone is dissatisfied with their life in some way to a greater or lesser extent and that is just the way it is. We do not have to turn this fact into a judgement about ourselves.

Not surprisingly, therefore, it proposes a different response than trying to run away from or fix this fundamental loneliness.  It is not through distracting ourselves or fixing ourselves with numerous resolutions. It starts by encouraging us to stop fighting with our loneliness so that we can actually start coming to a real understanding of the dynamics that lead to happiness or the lack of it. In other words, we work at transforming our instinctive distaste for the unsatisfactory nature of life, moving in the direction of accepting it, and in this way we fundamentally change our relationship with ourselves, and with everyone else. The underlying unsatisactory nature of life can never be eliminated; however, how we experience it can be transformed. It does not have to be threatening of fearful, once we learn to be with it and not rushing to get away from it.

I believe that loneliness is something essential to human nature; it can only be covered over, it can never actually go away. Loneliness is part of being human, because there is nothing in existence that can completely fulfill the needs of the human heart.

Sometimes it seems as if we do everything possible to avoid the painful confrontation with our basic human loneliness, and allow ourselves to be trapped by false gods promising immediate satisfaction and quick relief. But perhaps the painful awareness of loneliness is an invitation to transcend our limitations and look beyond the boundaries of our existence. The awareness of loneliness might be a gift we must protect and guard, because our loneliness reveals to us an inner emptiness that can be destructive when misunderstood, but filled with promise for him who can tolerate its sweet pain.

Jean Vanier, Becoming Human

Preparing for a new year

As yesterday’s post said, people begin to look forward to the new year as an opportunity to start again. This is natural, but frequently does not lead to any real change, unless we understand the patterns within our own heart. Any lasting growth comes from  an understanding of our heart, with all its needs and hopes, its vulnerabilities and wisdom.  This means that we can drop all pretense and the need to blame others for what is lacking in our lives.  In many cases the desire for change around this time is based on comparing our lives with others and feeling we are lacking.  Instead of looking outward, we turn within and gently look forward – not based on fear of where we are now or criticism of this past year – but rather accepting who we are and opening to the new opportunities which will unfold.

Your vision will become clear only when you look into your heart.

Who looks outside, dreams. Who looks inside, awakens.

C.G. Jung

Looking forward

One’s life shrinks or expands according to one’s courage

Anaïs Nin

In our darkest night

Being Irish,  I always remember Newgrange on this day. It is an enormous burial tomb, built over 5000 years ago,  before Stonehenge and the Pyramids. It has with a small, dark inner chamber where the light penetrates just once a year at the dawn of this day,  to warm those who have died for a few moments.

The Ancient Celts knew intimately the passage of the sun and the sacredness of certain days. Today, the darkest and shortest day of the year, they ensured that the sun still touched where they were buried. For us too, no matter how dark our interior life becomes, or how deeply we feel buried,  light can still enter and illuminate. No matter how frozen we feel or how we shut ourselves off in fear of expoitation by others, we can be warmed and opened.

May hope and light,  in some way,  touch us all today.

Oak trees

We try to be fully present in everything we do. We focus on just walking when we walk, and when listening to others we try to fully listen, not thinking ahead to the answer.  The vietnamese Zen Master Thich Nhat Hahn writes beautifully on giving whatever we are doing our full attention, taking care of one moment after another. Each event is important even if it is just washing a cup. In that way we are fully open to the happiness that is possible right now,  in each moment, if we just have eyes to see.

We learn this looking at nature around us and seeing how in silence each tree is perfectly complete in this moment. Nothing needs to be added. We are reminded of the old philopsophy maxim – actio sequitur esse- or action is based on being. Everything we do, all our happiness, is rooted in the heart. We touch into the heart every time we remember to be fully in each moment, not leaning onto the next, not always trying to be elsewhere or someone other than ourselves. Sitting practice strengthens this too: we do not try to feel anything particular, we drop all of our planning and additions and being in relationship  to just this moment, to just being.

An oak tree is an oak tree.  That is all it has to do.

If an oak tree is less than an oak tree, then we are all in trouble.

Thich Nhat Hahn