Noticing what is here, not what we would like to be here

Similar thoughts to yesterday morning’s post – this time from the Zen tradition – on staying close to what is actually happening, moment by moment, rather than worrying about what may happen. Sometimes it may not be what we would want, so our practice is to see if we can open to it and acknowledge it’s happening, even if we do not like it.  It also encourages us to meet every person today with fresh eyes, rather than immediately reducing them to  history which we have had with them, or to what we have come to “expect” from them.

The aim of Zen is to focus our attention on reality itself, instead of our intellectual and emotional reactions to reality – reality being the ever-changing, ever-growing, indefinable something known as “life,” which will never stop for a moment for us to fit it satisfactorily into any rigid system of pigeonholes and ideas.

Alan Watts

The most common regret at the end of life

Over the past weeks I have been facilitating a support group for the volunteers who work in the Maison de Tara Hospice in Geneva, and I listen with them to the different conversations brought up by being close to people at the end of life. Because of this,  I was interested to read about the most common regrets which people have as they are dying. Australian Bronnie Ware began recording people’s last thoughts and now has written them down in a book called The Top Five Regrets of the Dying,  published last August. In it she says that she noted common themes emerging in the discussions she had with those who were dying and she lists the top five of these.

The most common regret which she found was “I wish I’d had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me”. This is not a surprise for me. One of the most important questions we can ask is  “Whose life am I actually living?”, thus ensuring as we go along that we are deepening our own sense of purpose.  However, what we can find is that we are actually stuck in a series of adaptations to others which may have made sense once, but which have outlived their survival value. In Winnicott’s description of child development,  if the parent is not present to the right degree for the child – maybe due to anxieties,  stresses or challenging moments in their own life –  the infant can lose touch with his or her  own needs and take on  the needs  of the parent or tune in excessively to the environment. In other words, we form  a “false self,” which is shaped in response to the demands and expectations of others,  which become for our young psyche more urgent and demanding of attention than our own needs, our “true self.”

As we move into adult life we can still have these internalized demands of other people, and shape our life,  our work, or even the relationship we choose  in response to them. For example, if the dominant concern or worry of the parents’ life centred around security, financial or otherwise, it is possible that the person’s adult life is somewhat guarded, seeking an elusive guaranteed safety. Initially this false self personality may be successful, as it finds energy to build up a career and a lifestyle that fulfills the inner demands. However, these ultimately fail to satisfy because we have become caretakers of another person’s development and  needs rather than truly following our own path. It is for this reason that many people wake up with a sense of emptiness and  loss and are led to question what they are missing. Their lives and lifestyle are not supporting their inner life. They have not set aside the necessary space to listen to their own deepest self, and a modern lifestyle does not support this reflection, with its emphasis on speed and external achievement. Thus a person can arrive at the end of life realizing that  they have not  “honoured even a half of their dreams“, as Ms Ware recorded, or spent part of their time living another persons life. Their lives will remain uneasy, leading to an ongoing lack of satisfaction or to distractions in the way of over-activity, or addictions to drinking, television the internet or relationships. Engaging with the deeper questions – setting aside space and time to reflect on our own deepest needs – is central to  arriving at the end of a life without regrets, in order to establish a more courageous relationship first and foremost with ourselves.

To ask every day “What matters in the end” is to create the possibility of a differentiated choice, the potential to overthrow the tyranny of our history, so as to honor something that has been always there, waiting for our courage. If we limit our aspirations to good health or making money, then we might as well, in Jung’s words, “quietly shut up shop”. …If we make the effort to become conscious of our fragmented nature, we need not blindly act it out. We may thereby also be empowered to decide as grown ups, what , in the end, really matters to our soul

James Hollis, On this Journey We Call our Life

To love the reality of what happens today

Over and over again I see – in myself and in others – the capacity to turn things that do not actually exist – possible events in the future – into real,  vivid,  scenarios and tangible fears in the present. A huge amount of our anxiety comes from what is not, what “may happen”.  The big challenge is to stay with what actually is, not what the mind convinces us could possibly be. Here,  two quotations,  from completely different traditions,  encourage us in this regard today.

Every particle of creation sings its own song of what is and what is not. Hearing what is can make you wise.  Hearing what is not can drive you mad.

Ghalib, Sufi Poet and mystic, 1797 – 1869

The big thing for me is to love reality and not live in the imagination, not live in what could have been or what should have been or what can be, and somewhere, to love reality and then discover that God is present.

Jean Vanier, Founder of the L’Arche Communities

Making space for new words

Fare forward, travellers! Not escaping from the past Into indifferent lives, or into any future; You are not the same people who left that station Or who will arrive at any terminus.  T.S. Eliot, The Dry Savages

The Latin word “limen” means “threshold” . Liminality is an inner state ands sometimes an outer situation where people can begin to think and act in genuinely new ways. It is when we are betwixt and between, have left one room but not yet entered the next room, any hiatus between stages of life, stages of faith, jobs, loves or relationships. It is that graced time when we are not certain or in control, when something genuinely new can happen. We are empty, receptive, an erased tablet waiting for new words. Nothing fresh or creative will normally happen when we are inside our  self-constructed comfort zones,  only more of the same. Nothing original emerges from business as usual. It seems we need some anti-structure to give direction, depth and purpose to our regular structure. Otherwise, structure, which is needed in the first half of life, tends to become a prison as we grow older. Much of the work of …human destiny itself is to get people into liminal space and to keep them there long enough to learn something essential and genuinely new. It is the ultimate teaching space. In some sense it is the only teaching space.

Richard Rohr, Adam’s Return

Sunday Quote: Identity

 

Your identity is not equivalent to your biography

John O Donohue, The Inner Landscape of Beauty

Being patient and starting over

I was thinking about the GPS in my car. It never gets annoyed at me. If I make a mistake, it says, “Recalculating.” And then it tells me to make the soonest left turn and go back. I thought to myself, you know, I should write a book and call it “Recalculating” because I think that that’s what we’re doing all the time. If something happens, it challenges us and the challenge is, OK, so do you want to get mad now? You could get mad, you could go home, you could make some phone calls, you could tell a few people you can’t believe what this person said or that person said. Indignation is tremendously seductive, you know, and to share with other people on the telephone and all that. So to not do it and to say, wait a minute, apropos of you said before, wise effort to say to yourself, wait a minute, this is not the right road. Literally, this is not the right road. There’s a fork in the road here. I could become indignant, I could flame up this flame of negativity or I could say, “Recalculating.” I’ll just go back here. And no matter how many times I don’t make that turn, it will continue to say, “Recalculating.” The tone of voice will stay the same.

Sylvia Boorstein.