A journal of conscious living.

Archive for October, 2014

Hunting Highs and Lows

What makes me suffer? Or happy? So often I give too much credit to the external world of events and other people for what is going on inside me. Is it more about the weather outside or inside that determines how gracefully I go through my days? Continuing on the theme of finding new ways of dealing with inevitable pain and suffering from my last post, I’ve been reflecting a lot lately on my attitude towards “positive” and “negative” events, situations, people, and emotions.

Spectacular sunrise after a heavy frost...

Spectacular sunrise after a heavy frost…

When I am zipping along somewhat unconsciously through life, it is easy to be guided by my unconscious reactions – I like this, I don’t like that, avoid this, get more of that… And generally this seems to work ok when I can have some control over the conditions at hand. I don’t have to eat gross things usually, and can listen to music I like, etc… Usually I get my way. But definitely not all the time. Often there are things I DON’T like and I CAN’T make them go away, at least not right away. The more extreme the dislike or discomfort, the more intense the suffering.

I can see a lot of times that I am primarily reacting to my own judgments about whatever it is, for example if Carlyn wants to listen to a new Metallica record she bought – am I going to react thinking that I know what that is like and keep to my opinion? If I make a little room and listen to it as if it is a new thing I haven’t heard, I am often pleasantly surprised, and start letting go of some of my judgments. Maybe I don’t hate Metallica so much after all?

Having these preferences and reactions to things gets more complicated when dealing with performance psychology. Lately I’ve been playing this addictive game on my phone called Dots, and it is SUCH a valuable teacher! To summarize, in the game you try to blow up dots by connecting two of the same colour together, and if you can connect them so they form a box, then all the dots of that colour on the screen disappear. Quite simple really. The thing is, you only have 1 minute to play the game, and if you want to get an exceptionally high score, EVERY second counts. Seriously. Getting frustrated or trying too hard will totally kill your score. So the key to me seems to be finding this relaxed but focused attention, staying totally focused on the next move and not getting caught up in a mistake I just made, or how shitty the board looks currently.

What gets me hooked the most is when I finally get into the relaxed state of flow, in the zone, I usually have a great game! And THEN I want it again, because it feels SO good. More please. And of course, the next game is different, with a different layout, and quickly I am frustrated and disappointed that it doesn’t match my expectation, and I end up trying to force it and get frustrated, losing the flow. As soon as I am clinging to the perfect game, I am lost. So the way out? Seems to be finding a way to be ok with having a shitty game, while still trying my best. Finding a way to be ok with losing, making mistakes, but still working towards the goal of winning. Tricky. Caring, but not overcaring.

What this game is teaching me about emotions is totally translating over into the fields of performance psychology. I often struggle at the beginning of a workshop or in some social situations, putting pressure on myself to have a “perfect game”, and be calm and confident. And when it seems like the external world (or inner world) is not matching up to the image in my head, I get disappointed and lose focus and my performance starts to suffer. In wanting NOT to be anxious or awkward, I usually end up being MORE anxious or awkward. At least for a little while until I realize it, and accept it, and kind of give up my dream of being perfect or spectacular, and make room for being the anxious or awkward, imperfect me. And then at that point I am often right back into the state of flow and in the zone. Being myself, present, accepting what is and reacting to it naturally.

So what defines that ZONE? Being present with what is happening, welcoming it even, while still being focused on my goals for the future in a loose way. Goals more shaped like values than outcomes, looking at the process – am I being honest, brave, curious, compassionate, playful? If so, then the outcome doesn’t matter as much – and usually the outcome will be more positive when I am acting from those values anyhow.

As is often the case with anxiety or other “negative” emotions, we can start focusing on wanting to NOT feel anxious. And get caught in all kinds of behaviours to avoid it, but this trying to control it usually just ends up making more entrenched. A lot of popular theory, like Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT) or Mindfulness Based Cognitive Therapy (MBCT) talk about simply making room for these painful feelings, and going about our lives, taking action in line with our values. And I am finding this a powerful approach, instead of waiting for perfect conditions, I do things I want despite feeling uncomfortable, which tends to begin to lessen the distress.

But there still seems to be a lingering tension here. I am trying my best to accommodate these feelings, really, but still struggle with them. To me there seems to be a powerful difference between just accepting or tolerating unpleasant feelings, and actually welcoming them. The few times where I’ve gone into a workshop actually HOPING to be anxious so that I can practice new skills, it has essentially dissolved. The more I shift in this direction, of being wary of the highs (celebrating but not getting too attached), and opening up to the lows, the easier life seems to become. Pema Chodron talks of using the highs for inspiration and motivation, and using the lows to develop humility and compassion for others, to soften and open us to life and other people. This paradoxical attitude is captured quite well in a story she tells in the Pocket Pema Chodron:

Into the demon’s mouth…

Milarepa, who lived in the eleventh century, is one of the heroes of Tibetan Buddhism, one of the brave ones. He was also a rather unusual fellow. He was a loner who lived in caves by himself and meditated whole heartedly for years. He was extremely stubborn and determined. If he couldn’t find anything to eat for a couple of years, he just ate nettles and turned green, but he would never stop practicing.

The story goes that one evening Milarepa returned to his cave after gathering firewood, only to find it filled with demons. They were cooking his food, reading his books, sleeping in his bed. They had taken over the joint. He knew about the teaching of the nonduality between self and other, but he still didn’t quite know how to get these guys out of his cave. Even though he had the sense that they were a projection of his own mind- all the unwanted parts of himself- he didn’t know how to get rid of them.

So first he taught them the dharma. He sat on this seat that was higher than they were and said things to them about how we all are one. He talked about compassion and emptiness and other key Buddhist teachings. Nothing happened. The demons were still there. Then he lost his patience and got angry and ran at them. They just laughed at him. Finally he gave up and just sat down on the floor saying, “I’m not going away and it looks like you’re not either, so let’s just live here together.”

At that point, all of them left except one. Milarepa said “This one is particularly vicious.” (We all know that one. Sometimes we have lots of them like that. Sometimes we feel that’s all we’ve got.) He didn’t know what to do, so he surrendered himself even further. He walked over and put himself right into the mouth of the demon and said, “Just eat me up if you want to.” Then that demon left too. The moral of the story is, when the resistance is gone, so are the demons.

Copied from: http://nonduality.org/2010/01/12/milarepa-pema-chodron-and-a-regular-guy-oh-and-demons/


There’s GOLD in them there ills.

phoenix_final07_by_eedenartwork-d5mohzq

Like a phoenix rises from the ashes, so too can our great failures or suffering result in rebirth and transformation. Seriously.

Lately I’ve been drawn to exploring stories of struggle and transformation and have been finding some compelling common threads that run through all of them. We all face struggle to varying degrees in our lives, but how we respond to challenges, failures, and setbacks seems to determine how we fare in the long run.

The first bunch of stories I encountered came in the form of the TED Radio Hour from NPR in an episode on transformation. It featured stories like a son of a terrorist who became a peace activist, and injured climber who invented bionic legs, and a honour roll student turned drug dealer turned motivational speaker. In each of these stories people relayed stories of struggle and despair, of times of wanting to give up or quit, and not seeing how things could possibly work out. Despite this, they all found some kind of redemption and transformation, using the challenges as stepping stones to greater things.

Andrew Solomon explained it quite succinctly in his TED talk on struggle, relaying stories of persecution for being gay and how he managed to deal with the traumas he endured. His common theme was to face the trauma and pain, and build it into a new version of our story. Looking at this failure or setback or pain and asking “how can I fit this into a story that has meaning for me?” For him, he used the pain to motivate himself to help others in need, as seems to be a common thread for many. Through his writing and speaking he has shared his story so others can find their way through their own suffering.

Finally, in the Calm Living Blueprint podcast on the Hero’s Journey, they explain the motif of the Hero’s Journey from Joseph Campbell. In all of our classical stories (modern and old) there are common stages of growth in hero, being invited to a challenge, embarking on adventure ill-prepared, making allies, growing through facing challenges and failure, and ultimately claiming the treasure that can only be found in the darkest recesses we fear to enter, returning home transformed – a hero.

To me, all of these stories really speak to me as I think of my own challenges that I face in life, many revolving around performance anxiety or social anxiety – and thinking about how I can make sense of my own journey. Each of us has to do this for ourselves, clearly. For me, I feel that when I run from my fears they only seem to magnify and take further hold of my life. And scary as it is, when I face them head on, welcome them even, that I have profound moments of opening to life. For my own story, I feel that in facing these fears mindfully I will hopefully be able to develop more compassion for my fellow man, as well as building skills to serve others through counselling, workshops, writing, and retreats. As much as I want to ease other’s burdens, it seems that instead encouraging us to find ways to make sense of our burdens is a more effective way to lighten the load. I feel I can endure almost anything if it mattered enough.

My favourite example of all of these stories came in an unexpected form – while watching Star Trek the Next Generation, an episode called Transfigurations. In it the crew find an unconscious man in a shipwreck and nurse him back to health. He can’t remember anything about his story or his journey, but he is grateful for their help. As he heals, the doctor notices his cells are mutating rapidly, and he begins experiencing intense flashes of pain, so staggering he collapses. Eventually he experiences a flash so strong it expands beyond his body and temporarily kills Worf who he quickly heals with newly emerging powers. Around this time a ship from his homeworld shows up claiming he is one of 4 escaped prisoners and a threat to society for spreading dangerous ideas and trouble, aiming to take him home and execute him. Seeing them he remembers who he is, and undergoes a final intense and painful flash that transforms him completely into an energy being able to heal, teleport, fly, and more. It turns out the mainstream society on his homeworld were terrified of these flashes of pain and energy and thought it a terrible disease and danger. Instead, it was the beginning of the transformation of their whole species into something higher.

So I would leave that question with you to ponder. What struggles are you facing? Or avoiding? And what could be gained from facing them? How could the story of your life include whatever failure or pain you are experiencing and make sense in a deep way? Is there some challenge that you are delaying that could actually include the very meaning that you are seeking?What could you begin to do today that could be the first step on your own hero’s journey?