Review: The Poetic Justice Project, a film by Matthew J. Evans
I’m one of the lucky ones--a middle class person. I had a stable home, a crime-free neighborhood, and schools that taught me well. Always there was someone who believed in me. I knew it, and I believed in myself. I never questioned my right to a place in society.
Matthew J. Evans’ film, The Poetic Justice Project, http://www.imdb.com/video/wab/vi2291112729/chronicles the lives of the less fortunate, the “throw away people.” Those highlighted in this film live in families and neighborhoods where criminal activity is a way of life. Their communities are segregated, poor, and without opportunity. No one believes in the young people here. In fact, it is expected that they will go to prison.
And they do.
In prison they find the same rigid societal blocks that they experienced in their neighborhoods. Racism is rigidly enforced. Abuse is abundant and freely administered. Opportunities for education are limited. Upon release, many return to their criminal practices. They haven’t learned to believe in themselves.
Deborah Tobola, an artist/facilitator in the Arts in Corrections Program, has taught incarcerated men to heal themselves through the arts in her program, The Poetic Justice Project http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KBzr0nO21K4 . A brilliant playwright, she has penned several insightful and compassionate plays about redemption in the prison system. By seeing the depth of humanity in her inmate/students, she has led them to see themselves and to value themselves.
The Poetic Justice Project focuses on the value of participating in the arts for the rehabilitation for the inmates. In Off the Hook, Ms. Tobola’s latest play, the actors portray themselves for the education of the audience and for their own healing. This play both chronicles the actors’ recovery and sustains it. We view “real life” happening.
Matthew J. Evans is a gifted film maker with an ability to identify and illuminate the human struggle. This powerful documentary poignantly shows us the challenges facing humans who have not been given a solid foundation in childhood and, yet, as adults have committed to live with meaning and purpose. This film inspires each of us to be a better person.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Friday, February 25, 2011
Critics, Inner and Outer
We all have a Critic living and breathing inside our heads. This figure tells us we’re not OK, we don’t look OK, we don’t act OK, and no one thinks we’re OK. Once in a while we get reinforcement from another person who repeats those statements, sometimes verbatim. That’s eerie when it happens and only proves that, yes, that Critic is finely in tune with external reality.
My own Critic hates me. He’s been with me for as long as I can remember and probably before that. He sits on my chest and makes breathing hard. I feel hopeless and helpless when he’s around. My Controller developed to assuage this relentless Critic. My Controller told me how to do things right (and exactly what right was) in hopes that the Critic would be assuaged and thus convinced to relent with his constant abuse. My Controller gave me no leeway for creativity or joy, just accomplishment and production and work, work, work. The Controller was trying to satisfy the angry Critic by “doing.”
When I work at the prison I see my Critic around me. Some inmates hate me without knowing me. They don’t say or do anything but they communicate their disdain palpably. I just notice them. I see their smoldering resentment and their blocks to receiving. I can’t make a difference with them, just as I can’t with my Critic. My Controller thought she could, but she can only keep me imprisoned in my fear -- doing, doing, doing.
When I have inmates in groups I can’t react to them. I can only observe. As I know them better over time, I see their pain and their fear of their vulnerability and their feelings. These big ferocious guys are children hurting behind their violent masks. They roar and threaten but they do nothing. They are too scared. They fear that they are not enough, just as I have. They can’t tolerate those feelings, though, so they distract with their shouts and their acting out and their threats. They appear intimidating until I notice the silence when I ask about their mothers or the sadness when they speak about their children. They are just like me but their facade looks different.
When I imagine the Adult me, bathed in golden light, powerful and loving, living as I choose to, I see my Critic as an inmate. I look into his soul and see the hurting Child there and then I bathe that Child in golden light. I see that as an Adult I can heal my Child and be there for that Critic/Child to heal him, too. Healing doesn’t come from pleasing the Critic so he will back off. It comes from empowering the Adult to love the Child who hides behind the Critic’s mask. That’s all the Critic is -- a mask to hide vulnerability.
So many years of my life I was intimidated by the mask. By knowing the inmates, I can see the feelings behind the mask. The inmates don’t intimidate me and now my Critic doesn’t, either. I heal my inner wounds by knowing the men who hate me and helping them to heal. They are my gift because they hate me. They don’t give me approval for achievement. They just show me my Critic without apologies. They are there, they are angry, and they are unavailable for relationship. The only way I can relate to them is by acceptance, non-resistance, and detachment. I can’t expect anything from them, including change. I have to accept that and let go. Knowing them demands that I remember that I am valuable in myself and fine just the way I am. It helps me release my Critic.
What a fabulous gift!
My own Critic hates me. He’s been with me for as long as I can remember and probably before that. He sits on my chest and makes breathing hard. I feel hopeless and helpless when he’s around. My Controller developed to assuage this relentless Critic. My Controller told me how to do things right (and exactly what right was) in hopes that the Critic would be assuaged and thus convinced to relent with his constant abuse. My Controller gave me no leeway for creativity or joy, just accomplishment and production and work, work, work. The Controller was trying to satisfy the angry Critic by “doing.”
When I work at the prison I see my Critic around me. Some inmates hate me without knowing me. They don’t say or do anything but they communicate their disdain palpably. I just notice them. I see their smoldering resentment and their blocks to receiving. I can’t make a difference with them, just as I can’t with my Critic. My Controller thought she could, but she can only keep me imprisoned in my fear -- doing, doing, doing.
When I have inmates in groups I can’t react to them. I can only observe. As I know them better over time, I see their pain and their fear of their vulnerability and their feelings. These big ferocious guys are children hurting behind their violent masks. They roar and threaten but they do nothing. They are too scared. They fear that they are not enough, just as I have. They can’t tolerate those feelings, though, so they distract with their shouts and their acting out and their threats. They appear intimidating until I notice the silence when I ask about their mothers or the sadness when they speak about their children. They are just like me but their facade looks different.
When I imagine the Adult me, bathed in golden light, powerful and loving, living as I choose to, I see my Critic as an inmate. I look into his soul and see the hurting Child there and then I bathe that Child in golden light. I see that as an Adult I can heal my Child and be there for that Critic/Child to heal him, too. Healing doesn’t come from pleasing the Critic so he will back off. It comes from empowering the Adult to love the Child who hides behind the Critic’s mask. That’s all the Critic is -- a mask to hide vulnerability.
So many years of my life I was intimidated by the mask. By knowing the inmates, I can see the feelings behind the mask. The inmates don’t intimidate me and now my Critic doesn’t, either. I heal my inner wounds by knowing the men who hate me and helping them to heal. They are my gift because they hate me. They don’t give me approval for achievement. They just show me my Critic without apologies. They are there, they are angry, and they are unavailable for relationship. The only way I can relate to them is by acceptance, non-resistance, and detachment. I can’t expect anything from them, including change. I have to accept that and let go. Knowing them demands that I remember that I am valuable in myself and fine just the way I am. It helps me release my Critic.
What a fabulous gift!
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Teaching Meditation
Teaching meditation always presents a challenge. Two groups I teach--felons in a men’s state prison and educators in primary and advanced levels share similar styles. Both value control which proves to be a major impediment to meditating.
We all develop a Controller to shield us from life’s blows. The Controller relates to a valued image of ourselves we hold in our mind’s eye. The Controller tells us how to be OK. It just requires that we cut off part of ourselves–whatever is unacceptable. The Controller hates vulnerability and tells us not to appear weak or foolish. The felons “give attitude” to intimidate. The educators speak from their intellects about what an “expert” writes. In their own ways these groups avoid being present to themselves. Just being themselves doesn’t seem safe (to the felons) or good enough (to the educators).
And yet that is what meditation is about. We don’t meditate to look good or to impress anyone or to pass time pleasantly. We meditate to experience our own truth at the deepest level of our beings. We meditate to look into the shadows which scare our rational minds but which hold the path to our healing. We meditate to be more sincerely alive than we are if we don’t meditate.
The felons in stress management or anger management or depression management, aka meditation, know what it means when life doesn’t work. By the time they arrive in prison they have encountered the judicial system repeatedly. Most have served multiple terms for various offenses, usually related to drug or alcohol addiction. Now without family support, they believe they are inevitable losers and they hate themselves. They walk through their days trying to balance their despair with a shaky hope (they don’t dare trust) that maybe life could be different. On good days they manage to avoid conflict with others or being overwhelmed by their soul-numbing depression. Other days find them fighting, caught up in a physical struggle to dispel the tension which haunts their hearts.
We talk in class about not taking anything personally. How is that related to stress management, they want to know. So we practice detachment, identifying with the Observer, just noticing what is, not judging or changing, just breathing and experiencing the moment. We look at the Controller messages which say, Don’t let him talk to you that way, or Be a man and defend yourself. We breathe and we notice the messages but we don’t act. We stay in the Observer.
They practice being in their Observers when they encounter other inmates but don’t react to them. They practice owning their power by maintaining their boundaries. This is the only power they have and they assume it by identifying with the Observer.
The educators feel comfortable in their heads. They have learned that there is a right way to do everything and their job is to teach us how to do things right. When it comes to being themselves, they want to know how to do that right. Do I breathe through my nose or my mouth? Do I sit on a cushion and hold my hands like this? They like to focus on details and they give their authority to me to teach them how to be themselves.
We talk about the Controller but they identify with their Controller. Isn’t that how I’m supposed to be? It’s challenging to stay in the Observer and look at the Controller because the educators believe their Controller is a voice of wisdom instead of a defense. The Controller is like wallpaper for them. They take it for granted and don’t easily look behind it. For them intellectual detachment precludes presence to what is this second. They relate to their image of the Controller more than to the momentary truth in their hearts which exists behind their Controller.
The felons need support to stay in the Observer and not act. The educators need support to stay in the Observer and not think. Each group fears simply breathing and being and allowing Life to unfold. Each needs to let go of its chosen identification and to face Life without preconditions or defenses. Each needs to release its hold on the Controller.
Meditation teaches us to say Yes. No Controller is needed for that. Yes to what we don’t know and don’t understand. Yes to what is unpredictable. Yes to this second. Yes. I am. I breathe and I be and I say “ Yes.” And then I do it again.
We all develop a Controller to shield us from life’s blows. The Controller relates to a valued image of ourselves we hold in our mind’s eye. The Controller tells us how to be OK. It just requires that we cut off part of ourselves–whatever is unacceptable. The Controller hates vulnerability and tells us not to appear weak or foolish. The felons “give attitude” to intimidate. The educators speak from their intellects about what an “expert” writes. In their own ways these groups avoid being present to themselves. Just being themselves doesn’t seem safe (to the felons) or good enough (to the educators).
And yet that is what meditation is about. We don’t meditate to look good or to impress anyone or to pass time pleasantly. We meditate to experience our own truth at the deepest level of our beings. We meditate to look into the shadows which scare our rational minds but which hold the path to our healing. We meditate to be more sincerely alive than we are if we don’t meditate.
The felons in stress management or anger management or depression management, aka meditation, know what it means when life doesn’t work. By the time they arrive in prison they have encountered the judicial system repeatedly. Most have served multiple terms for various offenses, usually related to drug or alcohol addiction. Now without family support, they believe they are inevitable losers and they hate themselves. They walk through their days trying to balance their despair with a shaky hope (they don’t dare trust) that maybe life could be different. On good days they manage to avoid conflict with others or being overwhelmed by their soul-numbing depression. Other days find them fighting, caught up in a physical struggle to dispel the tension which haunts their hearts.
We talk in class about not taking anything personally. How is that related to stress management, they want to know. So we practice detachment, identifying with the Observer, just noticing what is, not judging or changing, just breathing and experiencing the moment. We look at the Controller messages which say, Don’t let him talk to you that way, or Be a man and defend yourself. We breathe and we notice the messages but we don’t act. We stay in the Observer.
They practice being in their Observers when they encounter other inmates but don’t react to them. They practice owning their power by maintaining their boundaries. This is the only power they have and they assume it by identifying with the Observer.
The educators feel comfortable in their heads. They have learned that there is a right way to do everything and their job is to teach us how to do things right. When it comes to being themselves, they want to know how to do that right. Do I breathe through my nose or my mouth? Do I sit on a cushion and hold my hands like this? They like to focus on details and they give their authority to me to teach them how to be themselves.
We talk about the Controller but they identify with their Controller. Isn’t that how I’m supposed to be? It’s challenging to stay in the Observer and look at the Controller because the educators believe their Controller is a voice of wisdom instead of a defense. The Controller is like wallpaper for them. They take it for granted and don’t easily look behind it. For them intellectual detachment precludes presence to what is this second. They relate to their image of the Controller more than to the momentary truth in their hearts which exists behind their Controller.
The felons need support to stay in the Observer and not act. The educators need support to stay in the Observer and not think. Each group fears simply breathing and being and allowing Life to unfold. Each needs to let go of its chosen identification and to face Life without preconditions or defenses. Each needs to release its hold on the Controller.
Meditation teaches us to say Yes. No Controller is needed for that. Yes to what we don’t know and don’t understand. Yes to what is unpredictable. Yes to this second. Yes. I am. I breathe and I be and I say “ Yes.” And then I do it again.
Monday, February 21, 2011
Responsibility and response-ability
So much of spiritual attunement is being available. Attunement implies a sensitive attention and readiness. A spiritually attuned life is not one that is planned in advance. It is not one that knows the answers or even the questions. Attunement is a process, a way of being. If the “doing” aspect becomes too important, the attunement is lost. Whether it is doing good works or doing evil deeds or just doing the list of chores the job demands, it is the attitude and the attunement that count. With whom/what is the primary relationship? Is it with the demanding Controller who is most interested in checking off the to-do list? Or is it with the spontaneous daily flow of Life? What are we responding to? Where is our attention directed?
I find that I am easily seduced by my Controller. It is hard for me to believe that God would be satisfied with my working 1-2 hours a day and watching television in the evenings. Certainly, my Controller doesn’t condone that schedule. Not enough suffering or struggle. God does not require struggle. Actually, the fastest route to God is to release all struggle, not to have a position, and to accept whatever is. A simple Thank you, Your will be done suffices.
Why is that so hard for us humans?
My theory is that it is not because we would have to admit that we are not God and accept a submissive position, but that we would have to admit that we are God, that there is no difference between an all powerful supreme Being and the core of ourselves, and that, in fact, what is being asked of us is what we long for already–oneness. What a kettle of fish that is! We act like we are gods and that we want to work our wills and now we hear God saying, OK, You are. Do what you want.
I don’t know about you but that leaves me sputtering. Immediately my Controller intrudes and wants to structure the experience for me–Be perfect, Think before you speak, Be careful! And I stop breathing and become completely self conscious. I think I can hear God giggle in the background.
Accepting our oneness is another letting go, not taking on a new burden. It is not about performance that comes from a belief in separateness but from doing less. Doing as little as possible, actually. Waiting for direction and then acting instead of choreographing our weeks and months. It is not about having a five year plan.
What is this, you say? I am an adult. Any baby can do nothing. I have more to offer than that.
Do you? Unfortunately, God may not be interested. She wants an open heart and an open mind. Do you have that to offer? Are you available to feel any feeling that arises in you without reacting? Are you open to reconsidering your strongly held political beliefs? Would you take that person who irritates you so much to lunch? About that one whom you criticize in your mind, Can you say he and I are one? He shows me myself? Where is the line that is hard for you to cross? At Jesse Helms? Or Jesse Jackson? You are one with each of them.
On the surface the pre- and the trans- of spirituality have some commonalities–a small ego, spontaneous accepted feelings, presence in the moment. But a mature spirituality is based in a state that has developed a strong ego and then moved beyond it. So much transformational writing discusses the ego in pejorative terms, but having a strong ego is essential to the development of a mature spirituality. It is not a virtue to retain one’s innocence past the time when one has been called to be powerful. Innocence is a given. Living adds experience. Refusing experience is refusing to grow into one’s power. Individual power is a maturing and a refinement of the being we are born with. Trying to maintain the purity of a neonate is refusing God. Life demands that we engage. Participating in life soils us. We make mistakes and we cause pain. We acknowledge our responsibility and clean up our behavior. We do our work in therapy and clean out our closets packed with repressed material from our pasts. Each of these steps is essential but not sufficient for a mature spirituality. Responsibility extends to correct behavior, to emotional healing of our inner wounds, and then to the availability to respond to God momentarily from a place of wholeness.
We become increasingly more passive as we learn what living responsively/responsibly entails. Our action is directed and chosen, not compulsive to avoid our fears. We operate from a peaceful reserve which is funded by our daily practices of experiencing oneness (meditation, yoga, visualization, affirmations, prayer, journal writing). We are present to the moment and fully alive. We don’t struggle. Whatever happens we accept and say, Thank you, and we breathe.
That’s all.
I find that I am easily seduced by my Controller. It is hard for me to believe that God would be satisfied with my working 1-2 hours a day and watching television in the evenings. Certainly, my Controller doesn’t condone that schedule. Not enough suffering or struggle. God does not require struggle. Actually, the fastest route to God is to release all struggle, not to have a position, and to accept whatever is. A simple Thank you, Your will be done suffices.
Why is that so hard for us humans?
My theory is that it is not because we would have to admit that we are not God and accept a submissive position, but that we would have to admit that we are God, that there is no difference between an all powerful supreme Being and the core of ourselves, and that, in fact, what is being asked of us is what we long for already–oneness. What a kettle of fish that is! We act like we are gods and that we want to work our wills and now we hear God saying, OK, You are. Do what you want.
I don’t know about you but that leaves me sputtering. Immediately my Controller intrudes and wants to structure the experience for me–Be perfect, Think before you speak, Be careful! And I stop breathing and become completely self conscious. I think I can hear God giggle in the background.
Accepting our oneness is another letting go, not taking on a new burden. It is not about performance that comes from a belief in separateness but from doing less. Doing as little as possible, actually. Waiting for direction and then acting instead of choreographing our weeks and months. It is not about having a five year plan.
What is this, you say? I am an adult. Any baby can do nothing. I have more to offer than that.
Do you? Unfortunately, God may not be interested. She wants an open heart and an open mind. Do you have that to offer? Are you available to feel any feeling that arises in you without reacting? Are you open to reconsidering your strongly held political beliefs? Would you take that person who irritates you so much to lunch? About that one whom you criticize in your mind, Can you say he and I are one? He shows me myself? Where is the line that is hard for you to cross? At Jesse Helms? Or Jesse Jackson? You are one with each of them.
On the surface the pre- and the trans- of spirituality have some commonalities–a small ego, spontaneous accepted feelings, presence in the moment. But a mature spirituality is based in a state that has developed a strong ego and then moved beyond it. So much transformational writing discusses the ego in pejorative terms, but having a strong ego is essential to the development of a mature spirituality. It is not a virtue to retain one’s innocence past the time when one has been called to be powerful. Innocence is a given. Living adds experience. Refusing experience is refusing to grow into one’s power. Individual power is a maturing and a refinement of the being we are born with. Trying to maintain the purity of a neonate is refusing God. Life demands that we engage. Participating in life soils us. We make mistakes and we cause pain. We acknowledge our responsibility and clean up our behavior. We do our work in therapy and clean out our closets packed with repressed material from our pasts. Each of these steps is essential but not sufficient for a mature spirituality. Responsibility extends to correct behavior, to emotional healing of our inner wounds, and then to the availability to respond to God momentarily from a place of wholeness.
We become increasingly more passive as we learn what living responsively/responsibly entails. Our action is directed and chosen, not compulsive to avoid our fears. We operate from a peaceful reserve which is funded by our daily practices of experiencing oneness (meditation, yoga, visualization, affirmations, prayer, journal writing). We are present to the moment and fully alive. We don’t struggle. Whatever happens we accept and say, Thank you, and we breathe.
That’s all.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
God in the Moment
So often we fear vulnerability and want to insure that it never recurs. We might say, “If I were (fill in the blank) then I wouldn’t feel (fill in the blank).” Perhaps it is: “If I were married, I wouldn’t struggle with this deep fear that no one could ever love me.” Or: “If I had money, no one would laugh at me.” Or: “With enough education, I will be as good as everyone else.”
Those thoughts are logical and all that our Controller minds can do to with our feelings, but feelings are to be felt, not managed. It’s terrifying and overwhelmingly painful to feel “I’m not good enough to be loved.” Of course, we want to escape that experience but it is an experience. Experiences exist in the moment. They are not terminal judgments. Feeling afraid of being unlovable is a momentary experience. “This second I am overwhelmed by my fear.” OK--breathe, stay focused on that feeling, and allow.
When we breathe and accept our feelings without struggle or judgment or interference from our Controller minds, they heal and pass. Feelings are just feelings, always in process. Feelings move. They heal and pass naturally unless we interfere in that process by thinking. No matter what is in our feeling realm, if we acknowledge it, feel it, keep breathing, and allow, it will heal and pass.
Why do we fear our vulnerability so much that we block this natural flow? My guess is that it’s because we’re not anchored in that central place of peace which exists absolutely in each of us. At our core we’re one with the greater reality. In our place of peace we know we are protected. We know we always have a home and that whatever we need will be provided. And when we know that, we also know that the feeling of this moment will pass and we will be fine.
It comes down to who or what is your God. Using the word God doesn’t matter. Dogma is irrelevant, structure is only external. Having a peaceful core inside us makes life experience meaningful and, thus, tolerable. The peaceful core offers us an anchor.
Anchoring doesn’t happen from our heads or our thoughts. No one can give you an anchor. An anchor inside develops from the experiences of staying present to yourself no matter what. Whatever feeling, whatever thought, whatever impulse, we stay present to ourselves. We stay focused and open to everything going on in us and we pay attention.
I don’t know of a better way to build self esteem. By practicing presence, we give ourselves more than we can get from another’s adulation. We can’t take in from outside us that kind of solidity. We stay with ourselves no matter what. And we confirm ourselves. By our presence we say, “I know I am worth love” for we are practicing loving ourselves. We treat ourselves gently and, yet, we know every ounce of what it is to be us—the fear and the shakiness and the immaturity—and still we say, “I choose to be on my own side.” What more could we want from anyone?
A peaceful core exists for every human but we have to work to find it. It abides under the struggles and the mind’s activity and the distracting busyness and the compulsivity. That peaceful core is our essence and the only place where we feel satisfied. Efforting, amassing, achieving, competing don’t bring us peace. And yet those are the gods many of us choose. Your god is whatever is the basis for your decisions. Do you make choices you hope will make you look good to others? Do you make choices in favor of denial of your hurt? Do you choose to remain aloof and unknown? That tells you what is your god.
When you make choices from that place of peace at your core, then that is your experience of God. And like all experiences, it is momentary. So God becomes an experience of the moment. Always you have a choice. Do you want to be open to your inner world? Do you want to know your oneness and your perfect center? Do you want to operate from that deep place of peace? Or do you prefer busyness and distraction and appearance? It’s your choice.
Those thoughts are logical and all that our Controller minds can do to with our feelings, but feelings are to be felt, not managed. It’s terrifying and overwhelmingly painful to feel “I’m not good enough to be loved.” Of course, we want to escape that experience but it is an experience. Experiences exist in the moment. They are not terminal judgments. Feeling afraid of being unlovable is a momentary experience. “This second I am overwhelmed by my fear.” OK--breathe, stay focused on that feeling, and allow.
When we breathe and accept our feelings without struggle or judgment or interference from our Controller minds, they heal and pass. Feelings are just feelings, always in process. Feelings move. They heal and pass naturally unless we interfere in that process by thinking. No matter what is in our feeling realm, if we acknowledge it, feel it, keep breathing, and allow, it will heal and pass.
Why do we fear our vulnerability so much that we block this natural flow? My guess is that it’s because we’re not anchored in that central place of peace which exists absolutely in each of us. At our core we’re one with the greater reality. In our place of peace we know we are protected. We know we always have a home and that whatever we need will be provided. And when we know that, we also know that the feeling of this moment will pass and we will be fine.
It comes down to who or what is your God. Using the word God doesn’t matter. Dogma is irrelevant, structure is only external. Having a peaceful core inside us makes life experience meaningful and, thus, tolerable. The peaceful core offers us an anchor.
Anchoring doesn’t happen from our heads or our thoughts. No one can give you an anchor. An anchor inside develops from the experiences of staying present to yourself no matter what. Whatever feeling, whatever thought, whatever impulse, we stay present to ourselves. We stay focused and open to everything going on in us and we pay attention.
I don’t know of a better way to build self esteem. By practicing presence, we give ourselves more than we can get from another’s adulation. We can’t take in from outside us that kind of solidity. We stay with ourselves no matter what. And we confirm ourselves. By our presence we say, “I know I am worth love” for we are practicing loving ourselves. We treat ourselves gently and, yet, we know every ounce of what it is to be us—the fear and the shakiness and the immaturity—and still we say, “I choose to be on my own side.” What more could we want from anyone?
A peaceful core exists for every human but we have to work to find it. It abides under the struggles and the mind’s activity and the distracting busyness and the compulsivity. That peaceful core is our essence and the only place where we feel satisfied. Efforting, amassing, achieving, competing don’t bring us peace. And yet those are the gods many of us choose. Your god is whatever is the basis for your decisions. Do you make choices you hope will make you look good to others? Do you make choices in favor of denial of your hurt? Do you choose to remain aloof and unknown? That tells you what is your god.
When you make choices from that place of peace at your core, then that is your experience of God. And like all experiences, it is momentary. So God becomes an experience of the moment. Always you have a choice. Do you want to be open to your inner world? Do you want to know your oneness and your perfect center? Do you want to operate from that deep place of peace? Or do you prefer busyness and distraction and appearance? It’s your choice.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Presence
Owning our power is the opposite of how it sounds. It isn’t about increasing anything but about letting go. Letting go of the defenses we have unconsciously assumed to get us through life whether that be working hard or avoiding work. Whatever we chose which reduced our anxiety and told us how to proceed, well, now at mid-life we release that. If our Controller told us to be good, now we step back and look at that Controller. So many of the new meditators I meet in the meditation group talk about being ‘good’ and doing what they ‘should.’ One man said his doctor told him to meditate daily. He came in with lots of questions, clearly wanting to meditate the way he does everything else–gathering information from authorities and reasoning his way through.
I like to use meditation as an example of how we do life. Meditation is just being present to the moment. We don’t know what we will experience. We just show up and say “I’m available.” When a new meditator comes to group talking about the latest Wayne Dyer PBS show, I know we have some adjusting to do. I love Wayne Dyer and I watch the PBS installments eagerly. However, at meditation time I want to focus on being present to what is inside me at that second. As long as we stay in our heads looking outward at another, we cannot be present in meditation.
Meditation is life cut small. Whatever we do in meditation we do in life but probably without awareness. In meditation we turn on the spotlight and notice simply what is. If we power our way through life using our minds, that’s what we will see in meditation and that’s great. As long as we don’t identify with our minds. Or maybe it’s not your mind that provided you with a vehicle to motor through the exigencies of the first half of life. Maybe it was your humor or your athletic ability or your appearance or your charisma. Whatever we chose (long ago when we didn’t know we were choosing it) to ease our way has curtailed our aliveness. Whatever we have done, we look at in meditation. We notice the process which by now seems natural.
Controllers do what they do to be right or good or appropriate. But we don’t meditate for any of those reasons. We meditate to be. We just “be” and notice what it is “to be” this second. Fairly simple but what consternation it arouses! Meditation provides us with a snapshot of how we live. And it’s how we live that’s the backdrop for owning our power. So meditation helps us see what is.
The magic part of mid-life (and meditation) is the power of the unconscious to heal. Suddenly (it seems) something inside us brings us to experiences which release any tension we’ve maintained. And if we’ve lived listening to our Controllers we’ve probably stored a lot of tension over the years. So we meditate which is to say to Life, “I’m available to be healed. I don’t need to hold onto the shield my Controller has provided. I’m ready to see Life for what it is. More importantly I’m ready to experience Life without padding to reduce its shock.” In meditation we say “Yes, I’m available this second. And this second. And this second.” And that is what owning our power is about.
Meditation certainly isn’t the only way to effect this shift. It’s just an easy way to notice it. Owning our power comes down to not using our defenses, not structuring our experience, not closing off parts of ourselves, just being present to receive. Because when we get out of the way, we notice that Life has its own guidance for us and it’s not what our minds have concocted. Owning our power is saying “Yes” to Life. Not “Yes, I think that’s a god idea so I’ll try it for a day.” Owning our power is assuming a totally different relationship to Life.
In mid-life we move an additional step and say, “My primary relationship is with my inner world and I will trust its guidance no matter what. I won’t put stipulations on the guidance I receive. I won’t say, Now remember, Life, I don’t want to be homeless and I don’t want to be uncomfortable and please make sure retirement is pleasant.” No. Owning our power is a complete letting go. It’s saying, “Yes, I am available.” And saying that again every day.
I like to use meditation as an example of how we do life. Meditation is just being present to the moment. We don’t know what we will experience. We just show up and say “I’m available.” When a new meditator comes to group talking about the latest Wayne Dyer PBS show, I know we have some adjusting to do. I love Wayne Dyer and I watch the PBS installments eagerly. However, at meditation time I want to focus on being present to what is inside me at that second. As long as we stay in our heads looking outward at another, we cannot be present in meditation.
Meditation is life cut small. Whatever we do in meditation we do in life but probably without awareness. In meditation we turn on the spotlight and notice simply what is. If we power our way through life using our minds, that’s what we will see in meditation and that’s great. As long as we don’t identify with our minds. Or maybe it’s not your mind that provided you with a vehicle to motor through the exigencies of the first half of life. Maybe it was your humor or your athletic ability or your appearance or your charisma. Whatever we chose (long ago when we didn’t know we were choosing it) to ease our way has curtailed our aliveness. Whatever we have done, we look at in meditation. We notice the process which by now seems natural.
Controllers do what they do to be right or good or appropriate. But we don’t meditate for any of those reasons. We meditate to be. We just “be” and notice what it is “to be” this second. Fairly simple but what consternation it arouses! Meditation provides us with a snapshot of how we live. And it’s how we live that’s the backdrop for owning our power. So meditation helps us see what is.
The magic part of mid-life (and meditation) is the power of the unconscious to heal. Suddenly (it seems) something inside us brings us to experiences which release any tension we’ve maintained. And if we’ve lived listening to our Controllers we’ve probably stored a lot of tension over the years. So we meditate which is to say to Life, “I’m available to be healed. I don’t need to hold onto the shield my Controller has provided. I’m ready to see Life for what it is. More importantly I’m ready to experience Life without padding to reduce its shock.” In meditation we say “Yes, I’m available this second. And this second. And this second.” And that is what owning our power is about.
Meditation certainly isn’t the only way to effect this shift. It’s just an easy way to notice it. Owning our power comes down to not using our defenses, not structuring our experience, not closing off parts of ourselves, just being present to receive. Because when we get out of the way, we notice that Life has its own guidance for us and it’s not what our minds have concocted. Owning our power is saying “Yes” to Life. Not “Yes, I think that’s a god idea so I’ll try it for a day.” Owning our power is assuming a totally different relationship to Life.
In mid-life we move an additional step and say, “My primary relationship is with my inner world and I will trust its guidance no matter what. I won’t put stipulations on the guidance I receive. I won’t say, Now remember, Life, I don’t want to be homeless and I don’t want to be uncomfortable and please make sure retirement is pleasant.” No. Owning our power is a complete letting go. It’s saying, “Yes, I am available.” And saying that again every day.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Just Do It
We’ve heard about surrender and trust and perhaps those words sound appealing if somewhat unsettling. You may roll the thought around in your head and debate the advantages of each side. But at some point it isn’t an intellectual decision anymore. When you just can’t convince yourself to put one foot in front of the other in the same way you’ve always done it, when the moments of your life are so precious that even if you are terrified it’s preferable to being comfortably numb, something shifts in your heart and you know you must commit.
Then you are ready.
And you jump.
Into what--you can’t imagine. But you haven’t felt this much yourself in a long time so you know it’s exactly the right thing to do.
You consult that voice inside you with every step you take. You practice partnership-- being silent and listening and receiving and only then responding and moving and then being silent again. You notice how the moments of your day go, how some doors present themselves and open and others slam shut. How the phone rings when you are emotionally available or the mail that has been delayed arrives when you resolve a conflict. You know when you’ve closed your heart by the stony cold emptiness you feel. Your intuition becomes more valuable than your thoughts.
For me this step of partnership--acknowledging God’s presence in my life daily-- is facilitated by journal writing and meditating. In both these ways I create a space and I receive. With a partnership there is always dialogue. Most of us are better at speaking than listening, so we practice listening and receiving. We finely tune our receivers. It’s a matter of attention. Attending to the subtleties and nuances both inside us and around us. Noticing patterns in what happens to us. Finding consistency in the day when you can’t get the lid off the jar or the window open and the battery in your car has died. Noticing that what happens to you reflects what is happening inside you, that there is a one-to-one correlation between the inside and the outside.
At some point in this process of trust and surrender and attunement, you will hear from your Controller. This figure inside you was created to limit your vulnerability and insure your safety in the world by using logic and practicality. She urges you to follow normally accepted ways of operating. Your Controller is the one who says to you, ‘Use your head.’ Or, ‘Don’t expect too much.’ Or even, ‘What will the neighbors/relatives/co-workers say?’ Your Controller tells you to listen to your reason and the outside world and not to your intuition and your feelings.
Your Controller is concerned with fitting in with others and being accepted by them so, of course, when you make this leap into the unknown her anxiety skyrockets. That’s a sign that you have realigned your allegiance. She will tell you that it’s not reasonable or realistic to live by following your intuition. Logically speaking in the short term, she may be right.
In the eternal scheme of things, however, it is not realistic to live any way other than by aligning with God (Your Higher Power, the Universe). You know who will prevail in the end so the winning side is clear. If you want to fool around in the first part of your life and try your hand at creating an ego and an empire, that’s fine. But once you walk through your 40s and 50s, you may not be content with such mundane concerns. You have learned how to master daily life and have received the rewards and . . . so what? It’s fine but it isn’t enough. This leap into the unknown engages your passion and your trust. This is the only way of living your life that allows you to feel completely alive. It is only with the acknowledgment of the Divine in our consciousness which shows in our everyday activities that we experience the wholeness which we know in the marrow of our bones is our birthright. It is the only satisfying and, yes, reasonable way to live.
So, without understanding what we are committing to, we commit to the process of trust and surrender. The process becomes all important, not the outcome or the appearance. We are not doing this to earn something or to get somewhere. We align with the deepest part of ourselves for wholeness and unity. We know we are not living our lives completely and fully by just staying in our heads and being successful and nice and respectable. It is only by allowing the God essence in ourselves to guide us that we are truly living in integrity.
Being a partner with God is simple. It demands only that we listen, receive, and say, ‘Yes.’ Nothing complicated there. It is only our fear that blocks us. It is not feeling our fear that is the problem but it is not feeling fear (which truly is present) and pretending it’s good judgment we’re using. Our Controllers are so adept at rationalizing and seeming Adult that sometimes it is hard to see the fear behind the Controller’s words. It is always feeling some feeling directly and responsibly and completely that the Controller wants to avoid. She uses good reasons to not be present to herself and, thus, to God.
If you need to avoid anything inside yourself, you are avoiding God. God is present in the ugliness inside you and in your hate and greed and immaturity and hurt and selfishness and shame. The Controller is in your self righteousness and apparent togetherness and your political power. Your Controller, who pushes you to participate in the social order, is not God. Your Controller may lead you to organize the church bazaar which is praiseworthy, but your Controller is not doing God’s work.
It is fine and often laudable to do good works. It is valuable to go to church. But neither of these necessarily comes from the depths of who you are. Churches encourage character development. Nothing wrong with that and it contributes to the community and culture proceeding smoothly. Religion structures our freedom and points us in a direction which may be good for us but it offers us an external referent. It gives us the rules and assumes the authority. Again, there is nothing wrong with that at a certain point in our lives. Before we learn to know our own inner authority, the conscience the church provides keeps us in line.
Being active in the church may come from our Controllers who prefer focusing on behavior rather than the open-endedness of consciousness and oneness with God and momentary attunement. It is easy to ‘do.’ It is defined and time limited. But to ‘be,’ well, that’s another story. Being/consciousness doesn’t end. It doesn’t cease when we sleep or when we’re silent or even when we die. It is ongoing, constantly evolving. And it is our job to continue this refinement of our own consciousness that permits the experience of greater and greater oneness with God.
For, really, that is all there is. God is. We are expressions of God. We use the first part of our lives to enhance our separateness. We develop strong egos and good reputations. In our 40s, 50s, and beyond, we release our striving and realize that the struggle itself is the problem.
So, we choose to just be. We be and we breathe and we wait.
Then you are ready.
And you jump.
Into what--you can’t imagine. But you haven’t felt this much yourself in a long time so you know it’s exactly the right thing to do.
You consult that voice inside you with every step you take. You practice partnership-- being silent and listening and receiving and only then responding and moving and then being silent again. You notice how the moments of your day go, how some doors present themselves and open and others slam shut. How the phone rings when you are emotionally available or the mail that has been delayed arrives when you resolve a conflict. You know when you’ve closed your heart by the stony cold emptiness you feel. Your intuition becomes more valuable than your thoughts.
For me this step of partnership--acknowledging God’s presence in my life daily-- is facilitated by journal writing and meditating. In both these ways I create a space and I receive. With a partnership there is always dialogue. Most of us are better at speaking than listening, so we practice listening and receiving. We finely tune our receivers. It’s a matter of attention. Attending to the subtleties and nuances both inside us and around us. Noticing patterns in what happens to us. Finding consistency in the day when you can’t get the lid off the jar or the window open and the battery in your car has died. Noticing that what happens to you reflects what is happening inside you, that there is a one-to-one correlation between the inside and the outside.
At some point in this process of trust and surrender and attunement, you will hear from your Controller. This figure inside you was created to limit your vulnerability and insure your safety in the world by using logic and practicality. She urges you to follow normally accepted ways of operating. Your Controller is the one who says to you, ‘Use your head.’ Or, ‘Don’t expect too much.’ Or even, ‘What will the neighbors/relatives/co-workers say?’ Your Controller tells you to listen to your reason and the outside world and not to your intuition and your feelings.
Your Controller is concerned with fitting in with others and being accepted by them so, of course, when you make this leap into the unknown her anxiety skyrockets. That’s a sign that you have realigned your allegiance. She will tell you that it’s not reasonable or realistic to live by following your intuition. Logically speaking in the short term, she may be right.
In the eternal scheme of things, however, it is not realistic to live any way other than by aligning with God (Your Higher Power, the Universe). You know who will prevail in the end so the winning side is clear. If you want to fool around in the first part of your life and try your hand at creating an ego and an empire, that’s fine. But once you walk through your 40s and 50s, you may not be content with such mundane concerns. You have learned how to master daily life and have received the rewards and . . . so what? It’s fine but it isn’t enough. This leap into the unknown engages your passion and your trust. This is the only way of living your life that allows you to feel completely alive. It is only with the acknowledgment of the Divine in our consciousness which shows in our everyday activities that we experience the wholeness which we know in the marrow of our bones is our birthright. It is the only satisfying and, yes, reasonable way to live.
So, without understanding what we are committing to, we commit to the process of trust and surrender. The process becomes all important, not the outcome or the appearance. We are not doing this to earn something or to get somewhere. We align with the deepest part of ourselves for wholeness and unity. We know we are not living our lives completely and fully by just staying in our heads and being successful and nice and respectable. It is only by allowing the God essence in ourselves to guide us that we are truly living in integrity.
Being a partner with God is simple. It demands only that we listen, receive, and say, ‘Yes.’ Nothing complicated there. It is only our fear that blocks us. It is not feeling our fear that is the problem but it is not feeling fear (which truly is present) and pretending it’s good judgment we’re using. Our Controllers are so adept at rationalizing and seeming Adult that sometimes it is hard to see the fear behind the Controller’s words. It is always feeling some feeling directly and responsibly and completely that the Controller wants to avoid. She uses good reasons to not be present to herself and, thus, to God.
If you need to avoid anything inside yourself, you are avoiding God. God is present in the ugliness inside you and in your hate and greed and immaturity and hurt and selfishness and shame. The Controller is in your self righteousness and apparent togetherness and your political power. Your Controller, who pushes you to participate in the social order, is not God. Your Controller may lead you to organize the church bazaar which is praiseworthy, but your Controller is not doing God’s work.
It is fine and often laudable to do good works. It is valuable to go to church. But neither of these necessarily comes from the depths of who you are. Churches encourage character development. Nothing wrong with that and it contributes to the community and culture proceeding smoothly. Religion structures our freedom and points us in a direction which may be good for us but it offers us an external referent. It gives us the rules and assumes the authority. Again, there is nothing wrong with that at a certain point in our lives. Before we learn to know our own inner authority, the conscience the church provides keeps us in line.
Being active in the church may come from our Controllers who prefer focusing on behavior rather than the open-endedness of consciousness and oneness with God and momentary attunement. It is easy to ‘do.’ It is defined and time limited. But to ‘be,’ well, that’s another story. Being/consciousness doesn’t end. It doesn’t cease when we sleep or when we’re silent or even when we die. It is ongoing, constantly evolving. And it is our job to continue this refinement of our own consciousness that permits the experience of greater and greater oneness with God.
For, really, that is all there is. God is. We are expressions of God. We use the first part of our lives to enhance our separateness. We develop strong egos and good reputations. In our 40s, 50s, and beyond, we release our striving and realize that the struggle itself is the problem.
So, we choose to just be. We be and we breathe and we wait.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Self Acceptance
We each have a Hero in us. Our Hero is the best and the noblest we can be. Our Hero emerges after we have healed our childhood wounds and after we have moved past our habitual defenses (drinking, eating, compulsive busyness, endless chatter, blaming). Then we spend time in the stillness at our core. The Hero tints the light that lives at our center and expresses our individuality.
Self-acceptance is the hallmark of the Hero. We accept ourselves not because we are impressed with our achievements and not because we approve of the person we’ve become. We accept ourselves because that’s our job. We stay on our own side no matter what. When we succeed and when we fall short, we are our own best friend. When we embarrass ourselves publicly or choose poorly and incur severe consequences, our response is always, “I’m here for you and with you.”
Lack of self-acceptance shows when we lack self-discipline, when we demand excessive time and attention from others, when someone else’s opinion can devastate us, when we criticize another, or when we tolerate disrespect. Not everyone will know us or appreciate us. We accept others as we accept ourselves; we allow them their opinions and their preferences. We don’t need anyone to be like us or to like us. And we support others in living their own lives with or without us.
Our Hero never disparages us but always whispers through us, “I am a winner.” The Hero lives in us deeper than our minds or our personalities. The Hero isn’t based on behavior but on self-love. And that self-love is a given. No matter what we do, we practice commitment to ourselves. We apologize when we err, but we never condemn ourselves. We always progress and we can always choose again. Through our Hero we learn and we grow and we say Yes to the expression of Life that we are.
The Hero in us watches and wonders and celebrates Life. And practices gratitude for everything.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)