Not letting our fears control us 3: Stop running

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.

Not letting our fears control us 2: Open to disappointment

One of the more important things for our psychological health is how we have to cope with disappointment. Losses are present in our lives from infancy onwards. Indeed, as Winnicott reminds us, a certain amount of disappointment is necessary as infants in order to allow a secure sense of self to develop. The parent has to gently “disappoint” the child in order to allow the child develop the independence to take on certain tasks for itself, to face the world without relying totally on the parent. This allows the infant have the resilience for facing the ups and downs of this world, as well as understanding that there is nuance in every person, and that we cannot expect anyone to perfectly satisfy all our needs.

If established well, the person can be comfortable on their own and have the space in later life to deal with the inevitable ways in which others let them down. If not, then one can struggle when a partner changes, a parent disillusions, a relationship goes sour or a job turns out to be unfulfilling, because one has looked to them to give life meaning. Another negative aspect could be that the child feels responsible for the loss and may pick up the mistaken idea that negative emotions are wrong, and to admit them is to show weakness or a lack of self-control.

Over the years all these losses add up. Some we have time to acknowledge, some not. Stephen Levine reminds us that grieving that has to go on for all the little losses and disappointments that happen throughout our days. He calls this “our ordinary, everyday grief” which builds up following the “disappointments and disillusionment, the loss of trust and confidence that follows the increasingly less satisfactory arch of our lives”.

One thing we can do in response is try to avoid feeling this grief, by hardening our hearts or denying to ourselves that the loss had any real meaning. However, although this provides a momentary feeling of safety, it can either lead to a gradual deadening of our experience of the world or reappear in our unconscious as anxiety or repeating behaviours. A better option is to stay open to life and acknowledge its inevitable losses, even the little ones. Ultimately, being open to feel the fear of loss is the only way to integrate it. It’s also the only way to a genuine relationship with others, because closeness to others cannot be founded on neediness or on the fear of being alone. Before we can be in relationship with others, we need to be able to accept a certain type of aloneness in ourselves. If we do not see that we will always be disappointed in the things that we think will fill it.

Worrying

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

Not letting our fears control us 1: Let go

The river flows rapidly down the mountain, and then all of a sudden it gets blocked with big boulders and a lot of trees. The water can’t go any farther, even though it has tremendous force and forward energy. It just gets blocked there. That’s what happens with us, too; we get blocked like that.

Letting go at the end of the out-breath, letting the thoughts go, is like moving one of those boulders away so that the water can keep flowing, so that our energy and our life force can keep evolving and going forward. We don’t, out of fear of the unknown, have to put up these blocks, these dams, that basically say no to life and to feeling life.

Pema Chodron

More mindfulness research

Some people have wondered whether the effects of the MBSR programme could be due to other factors, such as the presence of the group, people simply taking time to reflect on their lives, or whether just listening to relaxing music would have the same effect. However research at the University of Tilburg in the Netherlands found support for the effectiveness of mindfulness meditation. They looked at 40 women and 20 men who were experiencing distress, separated out different factors, and found evidence for the effects of mindfulness as an individual stress reliever in its own right, independent of other stress reduction factors in the intervention. This gives research backing to what many people have found – the practices of mindfulness are effective against the stresses which modern life can throw at us.

Nyklíček I, Kuijpers KF. “Effects of Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction Intervention on Psychological Well-being and Quality of Life: Is Increased Mindfulness Indeed the Mechanism?” Annals of behavioral medicine, June 2008.

Balance 3: Make time and space for questions

When I was a child in New York City in the 1940s there were laws that attempted to legislate the Biblical injunction, “Remember the Sabbath and keep it holy.” Businesses were closed. Shopping stopped. There were no convenience stores. People needed to remember, in advance of the Sabbath, to provide for the upcoming day of rest and spiritual reflection so that, on that day, they could rest. The community collectively caught its breath. Family members spent time with each other. They renewed connections. They visited neighbors.

I like to imagine that, whether or not people went to religious services, there was the possibility in that period of a pause for reflection. “What am I doing with my life?” “Is what I am doing good for me?” “Is it good for other people?” “Does my life make a difference in the world?” “Could my life make more of a difference in the world?”

All of the important fundamental questions in life seem to be waiting, so to speak, next on line at the top of the mind’s agenda, if only we give them the time and the space to present themselves.

Sylvia Boorstein