New Windows, New Doors, New World.
Look closer.
Since the retreat I’ve come back to everyday life and it all seems different somehow. There have been physical changes in my life in the last 2 weeks that have played a part in this. Namely getting a new computer to replace my near decade old previous machine – so I’ve moved past Windows 2000 to Windows 7 – which means I can finally install all kinds of things that weren’t supporting Windows 2000 anymore. Welcome to the future Miguel. The final thing that pushed me was the new camera I bought just before the retreat (after my old one died) – that turned out not to work with my old computer. And now that all this technology is up and running, is life different? Well actually, it is a little smoother and shinier. Functionally, not that different I suppose – but the new camera has a wicked macro lens (wicked for a point and shoot) that lets me get up close to things in a way a never could before – and see things I couldn’t see before either.
And I finally got a new door on the studio apartment I live in, to replace the old leaky one that let the heat out and the cold in. Not only does this one seal things up better, but it lets in WAY more light with bigger, clearer windows giving me a better view of the farm outside, and warming things up nicely on a sunny winter day – passive heating style!
And these renovations and upgrades don’t seem limited to my physical space – the way I am interacting with the world seems geniunely different this time. After past retreats I’ve quickly come back to my regular routines and ways of seeing things, but this time some things seem to have shifted.
A lot of what seems to go on for me is that I process old feelings when I’m at these retreats – which are usually noticed in the body as aches and pains in everyday life. But at a retreat we spend time just sitting there paying attention, objectively looking closer at things I usually ignore, or unconsciously cling to or avoid. And this seems to be the recipe for letting things come out in the open, get aired out and moving on. And afterwards I’m left feeling lighter, less reactive, and more compassionate. Which happened at this retreat as usual. But this time I started noticing a whole host of habits and behaviours that I hold on to without questioning them. And noticing that this blind acceptance and obedience to these habits actually effectively leaves me as a slave to these old patterns. Not that it is easy to break these patterns – but sometimes, if the circumstances are right, it is possible.
To generalize, it seems like I assume a habit or pattern in response to a specific feeling (often fear) and whenever I feel that feeling, I do the habit and the feeling goes away. For example – old students are supposed to skip the evening snack (new students get fruit) – but I would always get some toast and peanut butter out of fear of my low blood sugar and dizzy spells I usually get when I miss a meal. But this time they didn’t put out my snack one day, and I was feeling safe and confident enough to try to go without it and see what happened. And NOTHING happened. I was ok. And I kept pushing this in other areas too – little small things I was noticing about myself that I was anxious about or avoiding. Like kneeling with a bench to avoid sitting cross legged where my legs often fall asleep – when I gave that up, my legs fell asleep once – but it wasn’t so bad. And after that they didn’t fall asleep anymore! I found this whole pattern unravelling experience quite fascinating – some interesting insight into what makes up “me”. Basically the exercise was to notice a blind spot in my behaviour, observe it, question it, and when I felt safe, try to NOT do the pattern and instead experience the anxiety/fear/feeling. And each time, it passed and then the habit was broken.
After this retreat I am left with a couple of new insights.
Watching the river flow...
The first has to do with decision making. Often I make little decisions throughout my day without noticing it. And even when I started to pay attention – I would still make decisions based on habits or convenience. But in the space of clarity at the retreat, and post retreat, I seem to be operating from a different set of motivations. With less old feelings and habits influencing me, I’m less making decisions based on my mind (which seems to be able to rationalize anything) or my heart (which seems to usually be responding to something from the past) – and instead about making more intuitive, instinctual decisions. And they seem to be generally better. Easier, more natural, less forced. And things seem to fall into place more easily. Like how I operate most of the time seems to get in the way of the flow of the universe or something – trying to fight now things are. Instead of going with the flow.
And as I learn to get out of my own way, and surrender more and more to my instincts I’m seeing some interesting things emerge. One clear observation is that if I look closely, I don’t actually seem to have as much control and influence over myself as I think I do. My thoughts and feelings just come and go of their own accord – I can’t generate them out of nowhere or get rid of them if I choose. All I can do is decide how to respond – express, suppress, or just observe and let them come and go. Which is what the middle path of Buddhism is all about. And as realize how little influence I have over myself and my life circumstances, my ego diminishes more and more. And I seem to be more in the passenger seat of my own experience, watching it unfold – seeing what I’ll get up to next, curiously.
Interestingly, a lot of this seems to involve other people. Which is a shocker for someone who has historically enjoyed so much solitude. But it seems like the more I process my old baggage, the more I care about other people. And instinctually want to help them. Automatically in fact. Almost like with my ego diminished, my consciousness is starting to include other people (and animals and plants) in a way it never really did before. In the past I intellectually believed that I SHOULD help other people – but I didn’t always do it – only if it was convenient and helped ME. But now I am more seeing other people’s needs as on par with my own – like our needs are all mixed up together now, not separate.
Which is giving me some serious hope for the future. There is a lot of talk out there about the coming crises looming for our planet. But in reading a wicked book called “Paradise Build in Hell” (which profiles the front line experiences of people in disaster zones), I’m seeing that disasters and crises really can be amazing opportunities. The author tells of frequent examples of communities forming and acts of selfless generosity by folks waking up from their comfortable self-centered lives and working together against a common threat. Not that everyone is nice all the time (although it seems like some of the nastiest behaviours come from people in power trying to keep control in an emergency), but there is clearly a chance for people to go one way or the other.
Which brings me to the final thing that I’m percolating on lately. Leah has been learning a lot about transformative education at school – which involves the idea that folks can be transformed through disruptive experiences that challenge their ways of doing and being. Like how sometimes when somebody has a near-death experience they wake up and change the way they live. But more controlled and carefully done. If the foundations for a new level of consciousness are there (support including timely information, community, and other resources), then the person (or group) can face the challenge or crisis, and especially face their fear that has stopped them from changing in the first place. And finally make that shift. To a new behaviour, a new level of consciousness, and on a large scale, to a new world.
K. Miguel Hahn 