Thoughts and Musings

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Dissonance and Out-Groups

noreply@blogger.com (Darrell) — Thu, 21 Jan 2010 18:37:00 +0000

A class assignment for a forum post:

Story telling is an invaluable laboratory for learning about ourselves and others. Which of the stories and experiments cited by the authors did you find particularly meaningful? Can you share stories from your personal histories that we would also find informative?

I wrote my essay on this point, which begins around page 55. The concept of prejudice and of reinforcing my own ego through contrast with an outside group is one I've considered important for years.

In my mind, the process is something like this: the creation of a Them creates an Us by default. And an Us necessitates the existence of an I, thereby validating and reinforcing my ego. I enjoyed reading the perspective in Mistakes Were Made because it suggested some further detail about this. In my observation, much of our thinking either reinforces our sense of self, or threatens it. The concept of cognitive dissonance places a label on this thought for me and the explanations help me explore it further.

Travis & Aronson state that "stereotypes flatten out differences within the categories we are looking at and exaggerate the differences between categories" (p. 57). This is an awesome clue to the manipulations of mental functioning. I think it should be pretty obvious that I am not dealing with reality when I begin to group any set of individuals based not on the totality of each, but rather on only those characteristics I consider significant.

On pages 63-64, we read of an experiment where electric shocks were administered to students fitting the parameters of one group by those fitting the parameters of another. I liked this story because it illustrated to me just how superficial the distinctions are. The authors go on to expand upon the list of groups that have responded in similar ways, including those divided by gender, language, sexual preference and ethnicity. From personal experience, I might add sports team affiliation, religion, income level, political affiliation and computer manufacturer. My personal conclusion regarding this phenomenon is that it isn't about the actual topics involved, which are all arbitrary, but rather about the degree to which I internalize a given stance as part of my identity.

I have run into the behavior at work and amongst friends and family, too. Issues like abortion, dress codes, appropriate use of intoxication and even preferred weather seem to work just as well as any to establish in- and out-groups. Intelligent discussion or debate often takes a back seat to egotistical assertion.

The War on Terrorism is an interesting global display of Us vs. Them. In this, a terrorist is a label placed on a human being who commits a certain type of aggression. Although the terrorist may be a person responding to social or religious pressures and may be a family member and otherwise similar in many ways to me, he is labeled by his behaviors and thus fair game for out-grouping. In fact, he can now be subjected to behaviors on my part that mimic his own original transgressions, such as the killing of uninvolved parties as part of an effort to kill him!

Even more shocking is the fact that I can create new groups around him which don't even directly involve him. For instance, I can join a group that says it is not OK to accept collateral damage in pursuit of holding the terrorist accountable for past behaviors, while my friend joins a group that opposes this perspective. Although we both have far more in common than either of us do with the terrorist, we can become very heated in our defense of the two viewpoints, even to the point of doing irreparable harm to our friendship over them. And yet, rationality suggests that the issues are open to reasonable discussion and that such would require each of us opening his mind to the other's perspective. What is it that so commonly blocks such sensible behavior?

Why do I become angry over this issue but accept opponents of another without care? Is it really because one is so much more important than the other by some objective measurement? Or is it perhaps that I have made this issue over here more personal, more attached to me like some growth of my Self? Do I rage at the other group because of fundamental differences? Or because doing so reinforces my own identity? And if the latter, is my anger, my perspective, valid?

I think it is important to think about this concept because of the daily harm committed in the name of allegiance to ideas, membership and causes. And not only the interpersonal damage, but also the intrapersonal as well: whenever I limit my own identity to a concept, I've reduced the breathing reality to fit into a far smaller box than it really can. I am warping and contorting it and I have to live with the result.

Tavris, Carol; Aronson, Elliot. (2007). Mistakes Were Made (but not by me). Orlando, Florida: Harcourt, Inc.

noreply@blogger.com (Darrell) — Fri, 01 Jan 2010 17:32:00 +0000

A post from my Religious Thought in World Perspective class:

I used the word syndrome advisedly with regard to Us vs Them - the human tendency to divisiveness and depersonalization - because it refers to a cluster of behaviors and effects and that is how I see this phenomenon. In some cases, it is a simple and seemingly innocent teaching, as when a child is taught which humans belong to her family. In others, such as with religious fundamentalist activism, it can have more violent consequences. This is not a judgment on either of these scenarios, but a statement that it seems to me they represent the same drive.
Regarding your "local Hasidic Jewish community and their endless mission to separate and extricate themselves from the rest of us", I suspect it is indeed the same thing. When I identify with a given structure, physical or conceptual, I invest a bit of myself in it - it becomes a reinforcement for my existence. Thus, protecting it becomes self-defense. In my mind, again, this is the only way I can account for the desperate, sometimes homicidal fervor with which people will defend so many things from personal morality to religious systems to football teams.
It is a sad thought for me that I participate in these behaviors as well. To exclude someone, to create a Them for that excluded person to belong to, requires that I reduce him to a symbol, a nonhuman idea that I can push away. A person discovered in my living room at two in the morning becomes a "home invader", a man targeted in my rifle sights on the battlefield becomes "an enemy", a person who gossips about me is "a troublemaker", a person as seen from my jury box becomes "the accused." The people who yell at my dog are "those sons of biskets" and the people in front of me on my way to work are "Sunday drivers." The world's air is polluted by "careless self-serving corporate rapists" and the people responsible for the abused pets in that horrifying television commercial are simply "monsters."
It's easy to dehumanize someone in order to support judging, excluding and hurting her. It is more difficult to consider that there is a history of influences stretching back in time that led up to the current behavior, which is itself performed by a living human being just like me who is attempting to make sense of life. While this view doesn't invalidate the concept of personal responsibility as applied her, it does cause me to consider it more deeply in relation to my own actions. If I shoot the guy in the living room, for instance, I am not shooting some conceptual target labeled "home invader", but rather I am killing a human being because I have chosen my own safety over his.
I wonder how such a perspective affects the human ability to wage war?

Emptiness is Form

noreply@blogger.com (Darrell) — Sun, 06 Dec 2009 17:01:00 +0000

That line is from The Heart Sutra, and old essay on the nature of reality. It presents a paradox around how we view reality that has sparked many discussions. It describes my recent quandary at work.

Here, Sariputra, form is emptiness and the very emptiness is form; emptiness does not differ from form, form does not differ from emptiness; whatever is form, that is emptiness, whatever is emptiness, that is form, the same is true of feelings, perceptions, impulses and consciousness.*

What I came up with:

Since entering the healthcare profession as an EMT, I've seen many people who appear to value the bureaucracy over the patient care. And I've seen a lot of tension around it. It has occurred to me (perhaps fertilized by many comments around the subject!) that many of these people started out more idealistically but then surrendered to the stresses of competing priorities - and resented that mindset.
Since entering Nursing, especially, I have been presented with numerous priorities that appeared to be in conflict. I have repeatedly framed them into two conflicting roles: idealistic caretaker and embittered burnout. Duality.
When presented with what I framed as related mistakes at work, I (my ego) regenerated the scenario of conflicting roles from memory and created anxiety around it.

Most of that is pretty obvious, I'd imagine. However, it is the nature of such anxiety structures that they are more obvious from the outside than from in here! I knew my intuitive mind would sort things out given a chance to work, so I slept on it.

The roles described above, and the conflict around them, do not exist, of course. I know people who have mingled the various parts (that I assembled into those roles) in a way that fits neither preconception. The roles seem real to people who buy into them, but they are concepts - mental creations, illusions. Take a few selected pieces of the Whole, bind them together with emotion and rationalizing, then set them up as Real. In this, we have the recipe for human misery.

Cars are not real. They are collections of parts temporarily connecting in certain ways. We call this collection "car" and think of car as a real thing, separate and distinct from all around it. We create form out of emptiness by making a concept called car. In out own inner Reality Model, car is real.

In the same way, I collect various tasks and anxieties together, create a form called "Charge Nurse" and make it real (to me.) I nourish my aversion to this role, which causes me increased anxiety when I see myself associating with it. Charge Nurse will rob me of my compassion, my human contact with my patients! It will slowly seep into my bones and transform me into embittered burnout!

Hogwash!! As many have proven with their own approaches to it, it is possible to arrange things so the paperwork waits in line behind the people we care for. But, being human, I gloss over these examples when faced with my fear of Charge Nurse - an imaginary form which represents to my fearful ego, entrapment onto the path to embittered burnout.

Therefore, Sariputra, in emptiness there is no form, nor feeling, nor perception, nor impulse, nor consciousness; No eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, mind; No forms, sounds, smells, tastes, touchables or objects of mind; No sight-organ element, and so forth, until we come to: No mind-consciousness element; There is no ignorance, no extinction of ignorance, and so forth, until we come to: there is no decay and death, no extinction of decay and death. There is no suffering, no origination, no stopping, no path. There is no cognition, no attainment and non-attainment.

Therefore, Sariputra, it is because of his non-attainment that a Bodhisattva, through having relied on the Perfection of Wisdom, dwells without thought-coverings. In the absence of thought-coverings he has not been made to tremble, he has overcome what can upset, and in the end he attains to Nirvana.*

There are no embittered burnouts, there are no charge nurses, there are no paths to doom. There is only this moment and the choices I make right now. All else is emptiness: forms I have created in my head to give structure to Reality so my ego can do its work. These forms are valid tools for the ego, but I must never forget they are not real. To suffer over a mental construct is to imagine one's own way into distress. Not very smart!

Love your enemies whether they are people or illusion, for they represent priceless opportunities for growth.

D

* Thanks to http://www.thebigview.com/buddhism/emptiness.html for the Heart Sutra quotes!

Emptiness

noreply@blogger.com (Darrell) — Sat, 05 Dec 2009 18:43:00 +0000

For anyone lost in the unfamiliar verbiage, the general idea of Emptiness is that reality is a constantly shifting, evolving process in which everything influences everything else. The key point is that our minds, because of the way they are formed and the way they work, sort out conceptual structures for things and label those structures. Thus, I am seen as an animated body and labeled "man" even though this barely scratches the surface of what I am.

The usefulness of this is determined by what the observer considers as significant in the observation. There is, for instance, no practical reason to consider the dead cells lysing in my body, or the new cells forming, when trying to project my next move in heavy commuting traffic.

Emptiness, in the sense used here, can be considered to refer to the utterly conceptual nature of the structure created to represent me. I exist as a constantly changing process of physiological activities, mental processes, environmental influences and so on, but your mental image of me, which is the reality you interact with, is simply a snapshot of me from your point of view.

As children, we all saw things as bright and new and fascinating. Over time, we reduce our world to these mental snapshots and see things as repeated or bland or worn-out in a familiar kind of way. Yet the realities, upon which we based out models, continue to churn and evolve and grow, this way and that, depending upon the influences exerted on them. The reality changes, the snapshot model often does not keep up. Many traditions suggest it is beneficial to relearn to see the reality through the illusory models.

In a recent discussion on the way we see certain locations as sacred or special, the significance is that we do so because we build models of them that represent them so. The question I asked was whether all reality is sacred and we are the ones which build models that make some of it seem profane or ordinary. This captured my feelings of relativity around this subject.

My own thoughts are that sacredness and other labels are relative. Not insubstantial or without worth, but simply relative to individual perspective. Someone once said he could see the whole world in a grain of rice. Everything is sacred, of "ultimate importance", as James Livingston put it in Anatomy of the Sacred.

In the book The Peaceful Warrior by Dan Millman, the lead character expresses an epiphany on this subject with the revelation that "there are no ordinary moments!" I've always liked that thought...:).

There are indeed no ordinary moments, nor any ordinary objects, places or happenings. Unless, of course, we choose to filter and label them so!

noreply@blogger.com (Darrell) — Tue, 24 Nov 2009 16:14:00 +0000

From a post I made in a class about religion:

An interesting thought that caught my attention was that the focus on afterlife seems to serve as a motivater for attempts to live this life more fully and properly. Thus, it seems the reward must be external to the process in many cases. Some religions, though, use the process of this life itself as the carrot. Examples of the former include Heaven as a reward for a moral life vs. simple serenity as a reward for a mindful life as an instance of the latter.
I am wondering if the reward is the same in both cases, perhaps some effect in the area of diminished anxiety? And that if anxiety is a direct effect of a focus on future possibilities or rumination over past mishaps, then perhaps there is a clue as to why religion is human-centric? We have the brain that produces the survival tool labeled "ego" and thus we have the anxieties that require management.
Carried further, this train of thought leads back to mindfulness and similar present-moment skills as direct management of anxiety by turning attention away from dwelling on memories and scenarios. Could so much of neurosis be simply the effect of a commonly experienced dysregulation of our natural ability to consciously remember and predict?

It seems to me that this may be a case of Occam's razor.

Change

noreply@blogger.com (Darrell) — Mon, 23 Nov 2009 17:28:00 +0000

I think the confidence can come from accepting that we are always changing. Every moment of our lives, something changes. New air in, old air out; cells die and others divide; neuroplasticity results in changed brain function; opinions are formed, morph or are abandoned; people come, people go; we age a fraction more; we gain or lose height; we add one memory and lose contact with another.

I remember way, way back in time feeling that if I didn't continuously reinforce or cling to a certain attitude, belief or moral, I would risk becoming "somebody else." In retrospect, I find this phrasing humorous. I remind myself, however, of Erickson's theory and especially of the adolescent and young adult preoccupation with the search for identity. This brings another chuckle as it suggests the reason I am less worried about change nowadays might be related to the developmental psychological changes I've gone through as I've aged...:).

In any event, the result is that I accept that I will always be me even if I change. Erickson aside, some of this comes from a new perspective gained through meditation wherein I do not consider the chattering stream-of-consciousness to be me. I am the effect of all that has gone into me throughout my life and, like any tree or cloud or star or idea or creature, I change continuously.

Change is not scary - it is life. Stasis is scary...:).

Temporary Me

noreply@blogger.com (Darrell) — Wed, 28 Oct 2009 16:35:00 +0000

From a post around the concept of the self as more of a process than a concrete thing:

It would be absurd of me to deny that there is continuity of self throughout my life. And I see no adverse impacts on health stemming from that realization. It is only when I try to imagine an unchanging core or to freeze a representative moment of time and label it Me that I begin to have issues. Reality continues to change, but my imaginary snapshot doesn't. It would seem sensible to alter the model when this becomes noticeable, but, pathologically, it seems we often try to ignore or explain away the changes instead.

I have traits I can trace back to childhood in addition to things that arose only recently. My arachnophobia history, for instance, includes incidents at an early childhood home as well as more recent conditioning reinforcement aimed at change. So, I could blithely say that it is an unchanging part of me that was added early in life. Yet the quality of the condition has passed through many phases, the reinforcement has been increased or decreased according to my developing knowledge of psychology, the effect have varied according to situation, the social implications have changed as my own social development has evolved. So, what appears on the surface to be a constant becomes with closer inspection more of an ongoing story.

I remember reading a short interview of myself in a small local paper. It was done while I was on leave after completing boot camp, I believe. I was described as intense, poised in my seat for action - something like that. Yet I would have characterized myself as completely relaxed at that time. Nowadays, in similar situations, I have been described as calm. My self-view throughout was of calmness, but apparently my presentation has changed. Certainly my inner peace has grown - I no longer am subjected to dysregulated anger at intervals or to intense social anxiety. In a process lasting a lifetime, I have adapted, changed and evolved.

I may have mentioned before a kind of childhood epiphany I once had. Frequent drive-ins movies had enamored me of Hollywood cowboys. In play with my sisters, I remember a sense of frustration or longing around the fact that I could only play at cowboy, not jump on a real horse and ride away. Then I had this flash of insight: who says I am not a cowboy? Maybe I don't have a horse yet, but if I am really a cowboy, I will have one someday! In this memory, I see the early stirrings of the realization that my self-view was the biggest limiting factor in my reality model and goal-setting. Too bad I lost that temporarily during my early adult years!

Jump to high school and a student teacher is talking with me briefly during a class break. She mentions that her current hobby is (paraphrased) looking into the concept that happiness is a choice of state of mind rather than being controlled by external factors. Again, a small thing, but one I remember when so much else is lost - it made am impression on me and likely contributed to my ongoing development.

Both these events seem to indicate an internal focus or awareness that allowed me to see my mind as malleable and important. This fundamental perspective is an important factor in the epiphany that led me away from my street life twenty years ago. Yet I see it not as a static and concrete personality trait that saved me all by itself, but rather as a potential for a tendency, perhaps genetic or an random configuration of biology, that was nurtured by other factors such as the moments described above. Things came together just so that they fell within the range of effect necessary for the potential.

So there is the long version: a continuity exists. It could have developed along many paths - it did develop along the one that led me to this post. The combined effects of potential and choice and circumstance. All that is existent today resulted from the accumulated effects of its causes, including you and I. We label and catalog and conceptualize so the rational mind can work with things, but then we forget that all that conceptual work was applied by us to a reality which isn't dependent upon our model for its actions.

Remembering this - realizing this - can be a Big Deal for someone who has labeled a set of effects as distressing. Perhaps the situation has activated nocireceptors or removed something I have mentally identified as "mine" and thus caused me pain. This happens. I should be careful how I frame it, though, because it has no objective requirement that I turn it into torment. The direction my shifting, malleable self flows in next is up to me.

D

noreply@blogger.com (Darrell) — Sat, 10 Oct 2009 17:39:00 +0000

An interesting and well-worn question around the implications of moral action. From a discussion list post...

C, I agree with the principle of honesty in reflecting a person's action as I see them. I tend to keep in mind that evil is a subjective label, though, and so I will not mindlessly frame, say, a person from another culture with my own values. I think it is somewhere in this are that we are a bit at odds as I simply can not see my own morals as absolute and applying to all.

In truth, though, I will intervene when I see harm coming down the pipes and I will attempt to show someone the nature of my concern. If the situation is predatory, then I may help the victim by directly removing him from harm or by blocking or diverting the harm. I think we are alike on this point.

Yet I realize I may be interfering with the shark's dinner or otherwise forcing my own perspective onto the situation. In saving a child from a sexual predator, I am making a decision that the predator will suffer while the child will be protected. Many would say this is justified and obviously I would as well since I did it, but I also must carry the responsibility for my actions. Is the molester a low-IQ victim of his own history of abuse? Could I have removed the present victim in such a way as to have pointed the molester at a healthier lifestyle? Did I really handle the situation as skillfully as possible? Did I really apply compassion to all concerned? If I beat him and loudly and piously berate him, am I serving the victim or Good or my own ego? What would Jesus do?

Endless questions. Yet, as you, C, and others have intimated, at times action is indicated and not all the answers may be available. At least one value of discussions like this is that we might be better equipped to make more skillful decisions because of what we learn here!

Perhaps life was easier when I could subscribe to the delusion of absolute good and evil. But, I guess 'easy' isn't the point of life...:).

Where Am I?

noreply@blogger.com (Darrell) — Sat, 22 Aug 2009 13:04:00 +0000

Someone mentioned he was grappling with the notion of self vs. selflessness. The following thought occurred to me:

LOL. Is a car without its doors still the same car? What if the body is removed? And the frame? The tires and wheels? When I am done pulling off parts, I should be left with just the "car"', right?

I wonder how many of my parts need be removed before I am not exactly what I was before it happened? A finger? My head? An atom? Dependent arising has been a life-changing lesson for me.

Modeling Change

noreply@blogger.com (Darrell) — Sat, 18 Jul 2009 13:29:00 +0000

Joe lives on a nice street in a relatively safe neighborhood, but he has a concern about the way people leave their lawn chairs and toys and other belongings around the yards and sidewalks when they aren't using them. He has seen this type of behavior in other areas and the lack of concern for appearance seems to match the progress of neighborhood decay. He is worried that it is an early sign of a downhill trend.

Pete shares Joe's concerns. He gets very angry when they discuss it. He can not afford to move and he fears neighborhood decay.

Joe and Pete both approve of Betty. She is considered a quiet woman, but seems neat in her habits - her yard is always picked up. When asked, she simply says she respects her responsibility to her neighbors and her space.

Joe tries to make the others on the street see the problem by setting an example. He has neat locations for his garbage receptacles, his outdoor chairs and the few tools he uses in his tiny garden. He always puts things away when he is done and sweeps the sidewalk in front of his house regularly. He is trying to show the neighbors by example how doable it is to maintain a standard of appearance. He does this often.

Pete is more outgoing. He exhorts neighbors to pick up when done. He will take toys from the sidewalk and place them in the yards of the owners. When he joins conversations around the neighborhood, the talk will almost certainly gravitate back to that of neighborhood decay. He feels he is leading the fight against it.

People like Joe, but they think he worries too much. They notice his concern by things like the almost compulsive way he dramatically picks up his chair and puts it away as soon as he stands up. Nonverbals say loudly for him what he refrains from sharing outright. He seems to think they must take responsibility for calming his anxieties.

Pete stirs up fear and anxiety in his wake. People interpret his behavior as aggression, his efforts to clean up another's property as controlling and intrusive. Resentment is a common emotion expressed when people talk about Pete: the feeling is that he is intent on organizing the world according to his beliefs without caring about theirs.

The locals like Betty. Even the sloppiest amongst them like the appearance of her yard. She is referred to as "a nice, neat lady" and "quiet but friendly." People see what she does and they associate it with the attitudes induced by her nonthreatening manners. She seems to be calmly happy with the way the world is, a trait many would like to share.

Betty walks the talk rather than preaching it. She believes in her way, but she understands that others have different priorities and beliefs. Her mannerisms and action proclaim her serenity.

People may resist change when it is thrust at them, but they may also seek it when they perceive rewards.

As with Joe's subtle cues or Pete's overt intrusion, anxiety can be felt when change seems to be forced on someone. If I feel there is a message I want another to hear, I may close his ears by needing him to hear it. If the message is so important, it may be best for me to model it. If it is supposed to improve his life, then maybe it should be something I am willing to adopt myself.

By removing the anxiety for change, I am accepting what is and who is as they are. I move from threatening others to working on myself. If I do a good job, the results may interest others.

You must be the change you want to see in the world - Mahatma Gandhi

Simplify It

noreply@blogger.com (Darrell) — Thu, 09 Jul 2009 13:37:00 +0000

It is interesting to note that there were no Christians when Jesus was teaching. After some reading, I get the impression that various teachers from then till now assert that wisdom is not found in complexity. Material attachment, resisting transience, filtered versions of reality - all these are human perspectives that deserve a clear view. That learning process is not improved by material wealth or religious complexity.

Meditation (sometimes labeled prayer as well) seems to be a common element across many spiritual traditions. Some moral behaviors, such as the Golden Rule, also seem commonly represented. It is my contention that the original message of Jesus, Buddha and many other teachers can be deduced from our personal experience of our own natures and by looking at the elements that are common across enduring traditions.

Complex dogma was not present when they were teaching and, in fact, is universally rejected by the teachers themselves. They all extended their teachings to cover even humans considered socially worthless in their time, they all taught wherever they landed with a crowd, they all died before their words were codified into ponderous rule sets that were somehow intended to replace the vitality of living self-examination.

Spirituality - the relationship to life that these people taught others to explore - is not a set of behaviors. It is an introspective process.

The Real Axe?

noreply@blogger.com (Darrell) — Wed, 01 Jul 2009 13:35:00 +0000

In discussion with some friends, this was presented:

"This is the axe of my father..."

Same principle applies. Is it still the same axe, even after the original head and handle have been replaced? If I replace the handle of the axe of my father, from my perspective, it is still the handle of the axe of my father. The identity of the object has become a concept separate from the item itself. "The axe of my father" is now a different thing than the axe in my hand.

Such things are among my favorite topics, so I had to respond:

It seems obvious that the label is being applied to a different set of physical components. That is the source of the fascinating flexibility of labels, though: they are really being applied to concepts that represent objects.

The label Dad's axe is stuck onto a mental model I created to represent my father's axe. The model is also composed a physical axehead and the handle. New handles and heads over Dad's lifetime are simply absorbed as components of the model - the concept is considered unchanged. Even more interesting is that if the axe is bequeathed to me when I grow up, it can still be represented by the same model: this is Dad's axe. In fact, even my concept of the axe can change as I attach emotional memories of my father chopping wood or as I grow from being unable to lift it to swinging it with one hand.

To me, it seems important to understand that neither the concept nor the label is the external reality they model. To remember that in all things I address my mental representations of reality. When I feel hatred for the enemy, it is an emotion directed at my construct of that concept. Not considering this, if the enemy reforms or is proved innocent, I might tragically not update my construct correctly and so continue to condemn the man inappropriately. This type of mistake can be carried to many situaitons in the average day.

I think many would be comfortable with the idea of evaluating their own understandings of reality - sometimes it is the wording of all this that gets in the way. From that phrase, it is only a small step to the view that each of our "realities" is made from its components - the things we put together to make the snapshot. In practical terms, the axe is a concept and it would behoove us to remember that a new handle may change the balance. Or that from one chop to the next, the axe may develop a hidden defect, with painful repercussions.

So with all reality. We freeze our concepts, or models, as snapshots of reality. But the environment does not freeze along with them. It continues to express its transient nature in each moment. To react skillfully to phenomena, it seems sensible that we would need to see clearly what is now rather than what was when we took the snapshot.

D

Is It Real?

noreply@blogger.com (Darrell) — Mon, 29 Jun 2009 13:45:00 +0000

I posted this on a list in response to a discussion on philosophy around Wittgenstein. The concept fascinates me and so I'm transplanting it here in the hope of wider discussion and that I might return to it now and again.

----

In Buddhism, there is a lot of teaching around 2500+ year old quantum theory - some of it seems to echo the passages you selected from Wittgenstein. In particular, there is the concept that everything is composed of the things that make it up. This seems so sensible (because I worded it that way) that people accept it. Until it is applied deeply.

In the West, there is a perception that a thing exists inherently. We point at a car and say, "It exists! Step in front of it if you don't believe me!"

In Buddhism, a person might deny it exists. Not that there isn't a phenomenon labeled "car", but that the thing has any inherent existence outside being an effect of its parts. It doesn't exist independently as a thing, but rather simply an an effect of its parts. Remove a part and the car is something else. Language being what it is, we may still apply the label "car", but we are applying it to a different effect now: without the fender, it is a different effect. Close to the old one in our judgment, but undeniably different.

An interesting aside here is that the perception of the viewer is one of the parts. It is that which applies the label and so is an integral part of the identity "car."

Parts change from moment to moment. Thus, the effect they create is changed as well. The car exists for a moment, an atom spins off or a mud splash jumps in, the label is applied to this new combination of parts.

In Buddhism, the pertinence of all this is that the individual is encouraged to question the contribution of his personal filters to this process. Also, acknowledging that all things are in constant transition brings a perspective of transience to both attachments and aversions. Don't expect anything to last forever.

(One application of this which can cause shuddering is that of the Self - the soul or psyche or spirit. It, too, is considered to be an effect of body and mind. A concept created from those parts. Because the self-identity is a huge deal to this ego or Self as a part of its construction, it desperately resists the thought that it might not be permanent. For those who mistakenly identify the ego as the core self rather than as an effect of being alive in a human body, the conflict becomes a defining power in their lives.

There does seem to be a more basic Awareness beyond the busy ego-self, but it, too, is considered to be changing as experience. For there, we would we delve into Buddhist theory of rebirth where this Awareness [energy?] survives the death of form, but not as the individually identified ego or Self of popular Western conception.)

I imagine that Wittgenstein might have been thinking along lines like these? I can't deny that a car means something different to me than it does to someone else. It is appropriate to say that my reality of a car is different from another's. And that might lead to the difference in perspective between the idealist and the realist...?

---

D

Glitter and Lost Simplicity

noreply@blogger.com (Darrell) — Fri, 26 Jun 2009 23:49:00 +0000

We love to build elaborate conceptual constructs. We do it unintentionally, sometimes we do it on purpose. Usually we do it to reinforce our own identities. For whatever reasons, though, we take a simple starting point and add layer upon layer of decoration until the beginning is lost in the creation.

In reading about spiritual teachers from history, I notice that they seemed to follow a path noticeably different from those carrying their messages today. Jesus walked amongst the working class, teaching on the side of the road. It seems his Message was more important than the trappings and that he considered the words appropriate for all human beings.

What started so simply has grown, in some cases beyond recognition. Nowadays, priests charged with bringing the same message to the people often wear special clothing and have evolved many new rituals. Where Jesus went to homes or sat beside the road, we now have special buildings - sometimes expensive ones. The message is delivered with flair, during scheduled events, impressively decorated with vaulted ceilings and polished pews.

Spirituality is about human beings. Possessions are superfluous to the message; egoic identity gets in the way. A huge soaring cathedral is not more impressive than the sky, even if I created it. The original teacher spoke of kindness, compassion and human concerns. Would he approve of his spiritual tradition buying buildings rather than homeless shelters? Is a priestly uniform and residence the best way to walk in the original footprints? Should we deliver a message of humility in the soft glow of golden candelabras and coloerful windows?

I'm not knocking the trappings so much as asking if the message is still clear. At one time, it was about the straying lamb, a compassionate hand extended to each person encountered. The goal seemed to be to help the individual attain spiritual clarity. Simple, straightforward discovery offered to people. Maybe it's still there, beneath all the trappings, but it certainly seems harder to see.

When I see the priest, I see the spiritual tradition of Jesus brought forward 2,000 years, but with many changes. After all, the original was OK for its time, but we need progress, right?

D

David Carradine: Kwai Chang Caine

noreply@blogger.com (Darrell) — Mon, 15 Jun 2009 12:50:00 +0000

King Fu remains an inspiration to me despite all the hype around Carradine's death. I got the series on DVD for Christmas of 2007 and I still haven't watched them all from that because I only fit it in when I am in a nostalgic mood and sitting by the TV. It seems to be like having something to look forward to for special occasions.

For me, Carradine's (and Lee's) character Kwai Change Caine portrayed an excellent balance between the Buddhist commitment to compassion and the fundamental principles of self-defence common to all living organisms. What I saw was a man who dedicated his life to a thinking philosophy and to behaving according to that philosophy. Unlike most humans who seem to try to balance contradictory positions between high ideals and material pleasures or fears, Kwai Chang faced the moral challenge head-on and so walked the talk.

Carradine's death was tragic. I don't use that word lightly and I realize the use represents a subjective viewpoint. Many have not even heard of him and, if shown an episode of Kung Fu, would likely see only an outdated soap opera filled with staged martial arts. I have no problem with that - this is a personal interpretation. For me, though, Carradine was an artist and his work inspired me.

Kwai Chang stayed in the background of my thoughts after the show ended in 1975 and his philosophy was likely a factor in my own decision to change some major parts of my life around 1990, which set me on a new course where I am still going strong today. Years later, as I practice Aikido, work out with Hatha Yoga, sit in zazen and study Buddhist psychology, that quiet Shaolin monk still walks beside me with his worn working man's clothing and simple possessions, lending me his smile to share with people I pass.

Actors have the opportunity to touch many lives in their work. It is easy to forget that they are not their characters. Carradine was a human being with his own life to live and he died the death he did, which is simple reality and neither good nor bad. If, during my own time here, I can touch one life in the way he touched mine, I will be blessed.

Sorry - didn't mean this to turn into a eulogy! At least one person has seemed to think that the circumstances of his death may ruin the previous impact he had on me. Guess it weighed on my mind!

D

Gone Beyond...?

noreply@blogger.com (Darrell) — Wed, 27 May 2009 14:07:00 +0000

Once again, from a discussion somewhere in the ether:

[CJ]
And sure, I know, YOU have personally gone beyond all the 'dogma' of "religion"...to a place which few understand.

[Darrell]
I don't go anywhere that any other human can't go.

[CJ]
Yet, is not the 'church' nor the 'temple' nor the 'mosque' -- correct? And, then, why do we argue?

[Darrell]
Because of a desperate need (of the ego) to validate ourselves externally for the sake of security. If we could accept that there is nothing permanent, no security or guarantee, then we would likely be less worried about whether we were right and more interested in what we are being right about.

Any thoughts, world?

D

Death and Enlightenment

noreply@blogger.com (Darrell) — Thu, 21 May 2009 23:58:00 +0000

I am talking with some friends about immortality, the nature of time and similar trivia when one of them posts this:

Lest I am mistaken, death should be feared because of the cessation of all of the pleasurable and rewarding activities in which we engage, or because of the physical pain accompanying whatever malady or mishap produces death; it should not be feared because of the pain of death itself. Imagine your mind emptied of all fears, of all hostilities, of all recollections of the good and evil that has filled your life. Imagine the tranquility of dreamlike sleep when nothing from your various worries troubles you nor does the warmth of your little victories nourish you, nor the bogeyman of nasty personalities haunt you, nor the pleasures of friends and family delight you. Imagine utter stillness and peace. That is what I have tasted and what I feel death of the body is like.
—Ken Wear, Love to Live and Live to Love. http://www.rationallink.org/

I responded by telling him that this sounded to me a lot like what enlightenment or awakening or nirvana is billed to be. Duh, right? So why would I fear it?

Then I thought a bit more. Allow me some generalizing: some people fear death. Some also fear change. Some fear being wrong, whether the topic is religion or sports. Is there a common thread?

One theory is that the ego fears nonexistence. Substitute any word for ego that you are comfortable with - I'll use it here provisionally. The ego's mission is to survive. To do so, of course, it has to keep the organism alive, so the fear of death is logical. But to tie this to the rest, I need to make a leap: the ego identifies with the stances it takes, the opinions it asserts.

The hypothesis is that the ego attempts to validate and reinforce its existence through phenomena external to the person. And it takes this activity very seriously. When it identifies with a sports team or a political candidate, a perceived failure on the part of these is a threat to the ego's existence.

Why the fear? In my speculative theory, the ego was included in the package as a survival tool. It includes the stream-of-consciousness chatter that is always focused on past or future. Its job is to ensure that stream is dealing with issues that protect the organism, pulling past lessons from memory and measuring potential future scenarios against them. This makes for a very useful tool.

At some point, we humans began mistakenly identifying the ego as our core self, as the I. Perhaps this was because it was such a great tool that we used it more and more often, until it was constantly running? Likely we won't know that answer, but in any case we are now in the position where we accept the ego's choices as our choices, identifying with them as though we had no option.

As Ken is alluding to in his post, death itself has no inherent reason to cause fear. No matter what I may believe about the post-death experience, the fact that life ends is a fundamental reality that we as a species have had plenty of time to get used to. It may be that we have a genetic drive to survive and it may be that we have to deal with pain or discomfort in our own death, but these don't seem to me like sensible reasons to be afraid in advance of the actual event.

My thought is that the ego, equipped as it is to plan for the future and ingrained with the need to avoid ending at any cost, is the phenomenon that is afraid of death. And it is also the one behind the resistance to all the little deaths that are represented by the home team losing a game or by being wrong in an argument.

The key to peace seems to be recognizing that the ego is not I. Sometimes I think of it as a loyal, beloved dog: excited over many things and not always obedient, but certainly not the one who should be in charge! It is a part of me, but it is not me.

I can watch the stream of consciousness without getting caught up in it. Mindfulness, for instance, is one technique that can be used for this. When I dissociate from the internal chatter, returning to the present moment, I am not caught up in the scenario the ego is playing out. Watching from the outside, I realize that I am not ending in this moment, that the team's loss was simply a game score, that I will still be existent whether my favorite politician wins or loses. I do not need to get caught up in the drama.

The way to nurture and mature the new perspective is spelled out in many spiritual traditions - I won't dive into it now. What I want to emphasize here is that there is a discrepancy between what death is and the fear commonly assigned to it. Death is as common as rain. It may be preceded by pain or lingering deterioration, but it seems to be in itself an almost instantaneous transition.

The only thing death can threaten us with is the ending it represents, and that would only be scary if some part of us could not come to terms with the concept of nonexistence. But why would we fear nonexistence in the future when we exist right now? When it does happen, we won't be here to be bothered by it.

So, why are we afraid of something that won't happen right now and won't matter after it does? What is wrong with this picture? Should I mistake the defensive posturing of the ego for reality?

D

Inner Harmony: Dutiful Commitment and Spontaneous Enjoyment

noreply@blogger.com (Darrell) — Thu, 14 May 2009 14:12:00 +0000

The text below is in response to a post from a long discussion around the topic of being of divided mind and motivation when pursuing goals. My general thought during the thread was to look into why I would occasionally pursue self-sabotaging behaviors. Or even feel mindsets of this type. Why, for instance, would I fully support the advantages of a fitness program but then often resist executing it? Theories abound, but I am all about practicality, so I have embarked on a mission to see just how far I can bring the divided motivations into line with each other.

In practical advice, to be "my own taskmaster" is likely one of the most useful even as simply obvious as it seems. There are times when I recognize the object to a given task as a temporary laziness, a fleeting lack of energy, and I perform the task anyway because my rational mind presents a good case for the benefits. In this, I believe I am not an unusual human being. And yes, I have a bit of the perfectionist in me - a very useful observation!

It is interesting that I often give that rational, thinking mind the lead in these things, though. What I once saw as completely sensible and logical, I now question on occasion. For instance, it was once (in my far away youth) not uncommon for me to decide that today was a great day to skip work and pursue some less responsible pleasure for the day. This behavior had predictable outcomes and eventually I became more firm with my commitment to meeting my commitments...:). In doing so, however, I chose between the goal-setting rational mind and the more spontaneous motivations that it conflicted with. I lost some care-free joy in favor of a mindset toward sober duty.

Whether or not one agrees in that instance, it becomes an issue of interest when we discuss similar conflicts. Am I also making the right choice when I stick to my dieting or fitness goals, even if my day becomes tedious at times? My studies? Volunteer commitments? What about writing a paper for class when I feel like adding to my unborn novel? Do I stifle my creativity then? Discourage myself from completing the novel in pursuit of a degree meant to buy me credibility with others?

Obviously I judge these situations individually, but I often chose in favor of the obligatory commitment rather than the spontaneous impulse. So, am I living a life of responsibility and duty, or am I missing the opportunity for properly experience the joys of life?

Example: I have chosen yoga as a form of exercise and meditation because it sensibly addresses recent new goals for my workout: to support feeling good on a moment-to-moment scale rather than to support an ability to exert force against my problems. Daily comfort and energy vs. situational strength and speed. It makes sense based upon the evidence of the effects of aging and the average historical day in my life, but I often still think about exercise as a way to ensure I can deal with adversity - I feel regret at giving up my old ways. And I have plenty of times when I'd rather do something else than my workout. Interesting that I can be so divided even when I give something extensive consideration and feel when asked that I made an absolutely correct decision.

I think one of the reasons I've enjoyed reading about Buddhist psychology over the past few months is that it drew what was for me a very eye-opening line between transient sensual pleasure and true lasting contentment or happiness. In doing so, it addressed some of the conflicts helpfully. I'm trying to expand upon that now by using self-hypnosis and by choosing which thoughts to spend time with as ways of influencing my divided motivations to combine in support of considered goals. I'm also collecting references from these discussions to look into. I think I have made progress on a very slippery journey.

My highest goal for the discussion on pursing goals(!) is to be comfortable at any given moment with my present activity and with my ongoing progress toward goals as well. Inner harmony. Or, in other words, to truly enjoy living in a healthy way. Some of it is likely to be prioritization, some of it responsible discipline, but I also have the feeling that there is something gentler and more relaxed that I am missing.

I have a nagging feeling it shouldn't be such a chore to do the right thing every time!

I'll bring the results here if I have anything worth writing about!

D

Contribute to the Species?

noreply@blogger.com (Darrell) — Sat, 09 May 2009 12:53:00 +0000

From a discussion about the drive and direction of each person to contribute to the human race as a whole. Examples mentioned included art, science and similar positive possibilities. As usual, I had to go off on a tangent...:).

I don't tend to think in species-wide terms, but perhaps I feel a similar urge. To me, the way to build a healthy structure is to ensure each brick is of high quality and placed with care. Thus, it makes sense (to me) to focus on the individual.

We can't teach everything in schools. Perhaps we should teach emotional health and judgment more proactively, the skills necessary to allow healthy interpersonal interaction. But we focus instead on cultural values and on trying to achieve immortality through our progeny: learn my beliefs, my values, child! Fear-based curriculums. Perhaps we should just teach young people to think, evaluate, self-explore. Or perhaps the hidden agenda is just to train future serfs and I'm being silly thinking the goal is to produce mature thinking citizens. Pet peeve...:).

Religions, governments, wars, crimes - all are composed of or enacted by individuals. In our culture, we accept that the focus that produces results is material in nature: social achievement, earning power, physical beauty, attaining occupational goals. I postulate that the fundamental priority of the species should be personal psychological health development, be it termed religious, spiritual or emotional/cognitive. People should be taught to understand themselves first, then to focus on social and material achievement.

Maybe I'm just a dreamer, but it seems to me that a roomful of people who don't feel threatened by each other might just find something productive to do with their time...:).

It seems obvious to me that the collective health is rooted in that of the individual member. The goals of health appear obvious to me as well: increased happiness and well-being, decreased suffering and illness. There are recipes for success recorded throughout history and never has information been more readily available to the average person than today. Will we use this power?

D

Morality? Me? I Can't Quite See...

noreply@blogger.com (Darrell) — Thu, 07 May 2009 13:03:00 +0000

Another discussion list post. We are talking about morality and a concept one personal labels sacrificial love - her assertion is that it is a uniquely Christian behavior and is superior to other forms of love. This didn't feel totally accurate to me and I was trying to feel out why.

(Dr. Molla was a woman who took a health risk in order to safely complete a pregnancy. She died because of this and was later canonized by the Catholic Church for the decision.)

OK, so good example. The mother chose to risk and accept death in order to provide the child a chance at life. I don't for a moment question the validity of her decision. In her case.

Doctor Molla made a personal decision based on her own morals and the structure of the current situation. This resulted in an outcome she approved of. Now, if she had decided to preserve her own life at the expense of the baby, she would also have made a valid choice through a personal decision.

It is when we extrapolate this into a stricture for me to follow, I look up in amazement. This was her choice and it was a beautiful thing for her and her family in this situation, coming from her strongest beliefs and applied to what was happening then, at that time, to her and the others involved. It does not necessarily apply to me and mine, right now. I am in a new situation with new people and new facts, which would seem to support a new decision!

So, why do people feel the need to replace thinking with blanket rules of behavior? A person who choses to be a Christian should fully explore that path rather than learning a set of rules and then running off to dinner. If he fully understands and accepts the concept, then his decision will support this.

A person who choses to accept Islam instead, should do the same with Islam. And the Christian and the Muslim can each accept that his neighbor will make differing choices because of differing philosophies. Peace.

Yet there is something threatening about seeing someone living according to different rules! Hell, I've identified with my rules - they define me! If another set of rules works, too, then maybe mine are not as valid as I thought! Then I might not be as valid as I thought! Oh my God, what if I have to continuously question who and what I am? For life?!? What if I am never sure!

It's not the beauty of such moral lessons I don't see. It's the validity of applying them en masse. Even more, it's the fallacy of identifying with them. I am not my religion or my philosophy. I can accept change, accept that I may in time learn these are off-course. Even totally wrong. I am not my clothing, my body image, the morals I follow or the history I come from.

In this discussion, I was struck with the fact that it would be easy for me to identify with the stance that I don't identify with such things. It seems there is an endless adaptability to this tendency. Yet once I succumb, I am one more step removed from me, looking through a filter of yet another concept I've accepted to represent myself.

Mindfulness and Stories

noreply@blogger.com (Darrell) — Tue, 05 May 2009 17:42:00 +0000

In response to a question on a discussion list regarding what mindfulness is, of what use it might be...

One theory has it that we possess six senses: the five external organs and the mind, which provides input from memory and imagination. In this viewpoint, the brain can not tell inherently the difference between input from the mind and that from any other sense. Thus the realism of dreams, hallucinations, illusions.

Sensation delivers information to the brain. Perception is the initial conceptual interpretation of the information. These don't always agree as perception may include judgments or other filters. Information delivered from memory is already filtered, given meaning and connotations, distorted from the original reality by virtue of being the principle's version of that reality.

Emotion is a reaction to perception from any of the six senses. Last week I saw a squirrel hit by a car, left in the road with its little tail going up and down twice like a old pump handle. I felt saddened for the squirrel's end, brought on by the thought that it had been on its way from here to there and suddenly it was all done - something like that. The longer I considered it, the sadder I felt.

The event was a catalyst, but the impact came from my perception - the mental story I built from the incoming information. By dwelling on this story, I sustained and nurtured the accompanying emotion. The sadness hurt, yet even though I had seen a real event, the sadness came from my interpretation of that event. Thus, since the source of the emotion was internal, it might be possible to affect it.

Mindfulness is the act of consciously focusing on something. That thing can be within the mind, the body or out in the environment. We might say that it is being present-minded as opposed to absent-minded...:). When I was thinking about the squirrel, for instance, I wasn't paying much attention to the next few moments. I was lost in my story, not even consciously realizing I was lost in my story. I was reacting emotionally to a fantasy.

Applying mindfulness to my own thinking means to look at what I am thinking about and evaluate it - to observe the thinker. In this way I recognize the stories and can do a check on my emotional state: is it appropriate to the reality around me or is it a reaction to a illusion?

When I did this in the car after the squirrel tragedy, I looked around and saw that we had moved on. There was nothing dying at this moment within sight. I focused on the scene really in front of me and the emotion faded.

The premise here is that we don't recognize when we are responding to conceptual reality as opposed to actual reality. The squirrel died, I responded with sadness - all well and good. Reality ended there, though, and I kept going on a sort of imaginary sidetrack. Mindfulness is to recognize this, to re-center in reality. Absurdly simple concept, but quite effective since I can only think about one thing at a time with my conscious, rational mind.

New and Exciting?

noreply@blogger.com (Darrell) — Mon, 13 Apr 2009 13:15:00 +0000

I portion of a post I made - it sparked some new thought:

I enjoy learning, growth, exploring. I am currently recapturing that youthful perspective that makes every moment an exploration. I once asked someone in list conversation why footloose restlessness was attractive and received a few answers around the theme of new things being exciting. This led me to think about how really focusing on an old thing can make it seem new.
So, is the excitement of new things really a sort of unconscious yearning for presence, for the experiencing of everything fully? Is the horizon's call actually a reminder to look more closely at what is right next to me? Why run from here to there, superficially experiencing new sights when I could spend a fully aware moment right here that is just as thrilling and fulfilling?

The world was bright and new and exciting when I was very young. As I explored and constructed conceptual models of everything, it became reduced to what I'd already seen and what was new. But much of what I have experienced still has new things to offer - why do I feel I've already fully experienced them? What is the boundary between interesting and worthless?

Interesting is subjective, but one of the objectives of mindfulness is to see with new eyes. When I do, the old thing becomes new. Is this all I needed to become fully alive in the current moment?

D

Lost Lives: The Illusion of Rules

noreply@blogger.com (Darrell) — Mon, 13 Apr 2009 01:12:00 +0000

A friend asked me if I would write something related to my thoughts of how we treat parts of our life as a game. Especially about how we set and relate to the rules of that game. Or something like that. I had to laugh, as I can't really think of much that we do that isn't relevant to a project like that. Where to start? How to select one game from so many that we play? What do they all have in common that would allow me to express what I see?

This article first appeared in the e-journal, The Life of Games, in April of 2000.

Illusion

Aren't the rules all illusion? Of course they are. Rules are a way to create an environment within which we can perform certain actions, pursue certain goals, and justify certain conduct. The environment isn't real unless the observer agrees to the rules. It is an illusion, having substance only within the mind of those who have opted in to the game.

Read that again. Then think about it for a moment. How many times have you considered yourself "trapped" in a situation that was causing you discomfort, or even pain? Were the walls real, or did you make them by agreeing to the rules of that situation? Were you really being hurt by something/someone...or were you twisting the knife yourself in accordance with the rules of some unchallenged illusion.

Consider a common situation where John Human in an unhappy work environment stumbles through day after day with no real consideration of exploring alternatives. The boss is hateful, the work is deadly boring, and the workplace is unsafe and depressing.

John's entire life, home and work, is nothing but a dreary, gray haze of unhappiness. Yet, what can be done? After all, John has responsibilities...perhaps a family, financial debts, people who depend on him...not to mention the need for food and shelter.

He has thought about maybe looking elsewhere for different work, but isn't it all the same? Except for the "lucky" ones, of course...the ones who had more opportunity, or better education, or just better luck...

John has built his own prison! He is the one responsible for his situation. He made the rules up, or he adopted someone else's rules. Voluntarily. Because there's no other way.

People don't usually get forced to obey a rule...ask any criminal, or any child with a hand in the cookie jar. People accept the rules...they agree to be bound by them.

John accepts the rule that he doesn't have the resources to change his situation.

John accepts the rule that his responsibilities allow him no freedom of choice.

John accepts the rule that only "other people" can do the things that would make his own life richer.

John has chosen a path of depression and unhappiness for himself by refusing to challenge the situation. Even worse, John is wasting his life! He is alive now, today...yet he passes each day away as though his life weren't going to start until some hypothetical point further along, when things get "better".

It's not hard to compare John's problems to other situations. A lover pining for a lost romance, or a child waiting to "grow up"...or parents waiting for the children to grow up! Yet, how often is the problem simply a matter of having accepted the Rules of this particular Game?

"I can't be happy without him!"

"I can't afford to quit!"

"I don't have the education to do anything else!"

"I'm too tired to think about it."

"I can't be happy because..."

All rules, all made up by someone...all accepted as Law when they are, in fact, only illusion. They may be descriptive of some part of the game they belong to, but they are still illusion. Stated definitively, as though they were immutable conditions of living, the rules gain all their power from the mind that obeys them.

There may be consequences to throwing out a rule, but it's important to realize that it can be discarded. The illusion of the game is usually the loss of choice.

We play the game of office politics because "we need to," because "we need our job," because "we have responsibilities," because "that's the way it's done"...

There are indeed obligations and necessities in life that we need to consider. The question is not whether action needs to be taken, but rather whether one is considering all the possible options...or have some been arbitrarily ruled out as being "against the rules"?

Have you ever decided a certain course of action was not possible, only to see someone else succeed at it? Was that other person really better equipped, or did you just create an obstacle for yourself that they didn't have to deal with?

This is the nature of Illusion: that it exists only within your mind. The rule is not real, the game is not real, and even the problems that weigh so heavily on your mind are probably not real. They may be based on real circumstances, but the power to dispense unhappiness or depression, or to set limits, exists only within your own mind.

Some rules may be beneficial, or useful, or fun...so keep them. Just realize that you kept them...it was your choice. They were created from within your mind, and they exist for only as long as you allow them to do so.

As an example, there is one rule, one illusion, that

I personally find offensive above all others. It is the rule that one can not be happy "because...". It's the biggest fantasy of all, as it leads to depression, lack of motivation, and subverts all efforts of that individual to live their lives in a fulfilled manner.

It creates the barriers that prevent it from being questioned...a self-fulfilling nightmare that many people embrace and never even question!

Happiness is a state of mind!

It is not a commodity that can be bought, or a possession that can be stolen. It is not dependent upon another person's presence, or life, or death; it is not an embedded part of any of our games.

It belongs to every person as a birthright, and is obtainable at any time. It's yours irrevocably...just reach out and take it!

Although you may have been taught that various obstacles can bar you from the simple state of happiness, I invite you to look around yourself someday and actively seek out evidence to the contrary. Watch for smiles on the faces of people with little or no money, and watch for optimism in people subjected to misfortune. You'll find examples if you bother to try that might just make you wonder if you want to play the old games anymore...

It is possible that you are setting yourself limits that really don't exist outside your illusion. So, just out of curiosity, let's play a new game today. The rules are simple:

We will question every obstacle we think we see before us.

We will agree not to accept any rule just because "it's a rule".

We will agree that any change to our emotional state is something we did ourselves.

The goal of the game is to achieve a state where we are in control of when we will be happy or sad, motivated or depressed. We will decide what affects our mood today. We will live by a rule because we accept it, and not because we never questioned it.

Maybe, we will gain our lives back. It's just a game...what have you got to lose?

Author's note: Since writing this article, I have modified my views a bit, but I still find these words ring true as far as they go. And they represent a very significant time for me when many hard-won lessons were culminating in an opening cocoon.

Emotional Vampires and Distance

noreply@blogger.com (Darrell) — Sun, 12 Apr 2009 15:21:00 +0000

This was a post in response to a request for opinion on two Youtube clips:

I want to be present (Moojiji)

Being Present in Relationships (Eckhart Tolle)

It was part of a virtual conversation at Global Mindshift (http://www.global-mindshift.org).

----------

An analogy I found helpful in dealing with relatives, close friends and acquaintances was that of the emotional vampire drawn from a book of the same name by Albert Bernstein and from other sources. Essentially, these are folk who validate themselves through responses from other people and so they try to elicit the desired behaviors by drawing those people into their own dramas. It can be draining on someone who cares about the actor but is unable to maintain healthy boundaries.

I deal a lot with personality disorders - DSM IV Axis II diagnoses (http://tinyurl.com/dj4pua) - and addiction. This gives me more practice with such things than the average Joe, but it also means that I have to be better at the skills or risk providing lower quality care to those patients. Healthcare provider burnout is only one of the serious risks associated with this situation and many of my coworkers have expressed amazement at my "patience" and ability to retain my equanimity.

(As with many, I also run into this flavor of behavior in my personal life. Although it is less frequent, I find it actually more challenging to deal with! Something about the clinical setting affecting my mindset - I'm working on it!)

There are defenses against this kind of thing. A common one is to close off the emotional leaks by cutting the person out of one's life. In this scenario, a lover might break up with an emotionally needy, draining person with the full support of his or her friends and family because the vampire is considered crazy or insane, unbelievably selfish and demanding. This is an oft-chosen solution that is sad, unskilled and unnecessary.

In the videos, we find the key that allows me to deal with my patients: space. I one day had the epiphany that I suffered from their neediness because I was running myself ragged trying to satisfy it. I internalized their need as a personal need to satisfy. Over time, I identified with their issues, losing perspective. My first reaction, of course, was to cut them off in self-defense, using phrases like tough love to justify my withdrawal. Except that it didn't feel like love anymore - it felt like withdrawal.

When I began centering myself in the moment, I suddenly found the problem disappeared. I could still love the people and be willing to help them for as long as it took, but I was no longer feeling drained! I felt instead as though I were a conduit to a vast, bottomless ocean of energy and that I could pipe it through to them as fast as they could suck it up. (I don't know why, but that analogy popped into my mind intuitively and it has stayed there.)

More objectively, I realized that the reason I had felt drained was because I had identified with their stories and run my own internal drama in sympathy. I had drained myself by playing out a storyline of how this endless neediness would go on and on forever, thus overwhelming myself with a fantasy of an eternal future of misery. When I just dealt with this moment as it was without building my own drama extending into the forever, it became trivial to retain my balance.

I had been carrying the emotional baggage of the last interaction into the current one and then spent the incident worrying about how much heavier it would be next time. When I just focused on this conversation without envisioning it as an extension of the last one, I was suddenly dealing with just the one act rather than the whole play. I went from being overburdened in these situations to feeling light as a feather and suddenly I can work with these folks all day long with absolutely no stress.