Category Archives: Social Science

Practicing Presence

Within your heart, keep one still, secret spot where dreams may go.

–Louise Driscoll

I have a dream that is beginning to manifest, but it is possible that it will be curtailed.

I am trying not to make negative predictions as a means of protecting myself against disappointment. Bracing myself for not getting what I want is a habitual response which I developed years and years ago. In truth, it is just as possible that the situation will resolve itself in the way I want it. Agitating myself and generating negative energy creates misery and, for all I know, might affect the outcome, bringing me the conclusion I fear. What is the sense in that?

Instead, I am trying to sit with the unknown. I am trying to focus on what matters in this moment. Eckhart Tolle would conclude that the issue concerning me is not my life, but my “life situation.” He believes that we live in psychological time, mostly focused on the past or future, and thus miss experiencing life. He encourages using one’s senses fully, to become absorbed in The Moment. Eckhart purports that all problems are illusion of the mind. He writes:

Focus your attention on the now and tell me what problem you have at this moment. I am not getting any answer because it is impossible to have a problem when your attention is fully in the Now. A situation needs to be either dealt with or accepted. Why make this into a problem? The mind unconsciously loves problems because they give you an identity of sorts. This is normal, and it is insane.

–Eckhart Tolle, Practicing the Power of Now

That last sentence makes me smile. What I take from this is that when I begin to fret over something that I will not know the answer to for awhile, or when I worry about an issue which is not directly bearing down on my life at this moment, I am creating pain for myself. And I am missing my life.

Ah, this wisdom, it is difficult to apply! In fact, Tolle might even disagree with Driscoll, saying that to keep a dream in one’s heart is a distraction from living, because it pulls one’s attention to the future.

Writing about this helps to a point, but only in that it provides me the relief of expression, since writing is one way I make sense of my life. I’m not the only one out there with a hope that may be dashed, who has to live with not knowing until the situation develops to reveal the answer (though having company in this doesn’t exactly comfort). This is an opportunity to activate myself, to live the spiritual practice of awareness and immersion in the moment, to wonder and be amazed and grateful.

Oh, by the way, it does appear that my blog break is over. And here’s an explanation: a number of days ago I received some negative feedback on a post that stirred up a lot of painful emotion (the issue I posted about was painful to me, as were a couple of comments). The post — which, being an expression of myself, is equivalent to I — was used by this person as part of an essay critiquing Buddhist blogs; my post became an object lesson, because it did not reflect this person’s idea of what a mindful person would post. (Note: I’m not a declared Buddhist, nor do I claim expertise on the religion, or any religion.) My response to the pain was to retreat; I wanted to protect myself. To the author’s credit, he did not use identifying information nor link to my blog. But given the depth of pain, I shut down. Again, this is something Tolle would assert is part of psyhological time. It is not happening in my life now; it is not real, and the pain I feel arises from clinging to past events and beliefs about them. So, I’m back.

My Solution

I have seven boys and three girls in my group. Six of the students are fifth graders, and four are in fourth grade. Some of the boys are a year or two older than their grade level and thus bigger than many of their peers. I wanted to speak to the group in a positive way.

When program started, I had all ten stand on one side of the room. I said, “Everyone who likes play and have fun, move to the other side of the room. If you don’t like to have fun, stay where you are.” Of course, all ten moved.

One child said, “This is a game!” I replied, “Yes, sort of.” Then I continued, “If you like to be scared, if you enjoy being frightened, move to the other side of the room.” Six boys moved, and one boy moved halfway across the room. The girls stayed put.

Then I asked the boys what they enjoyed that was scary. They said scary movies and stories were fun. I asked, “If someone much bigger than you were to come after you, and chase you, would you enjoy that?” A couple of boys said no, a couple said, with bravado, yes.

My last question was, “Do you like it when someone touches you when you don’t want to be touched? Do you like being poked, hit, prodded? If you don’t like this, move back to the other side of the room.” They all moved back. I continued, “So just to be sure, by standing there all of you are saying you wouldn’t like it if someone grabbed your butt, or touched personal parts of your body, or punched you, even if they are playing?” They nodded.

I went on to speak to all of them, about how they are getting bigger and stronger. The fourth graders, next year, will be the big kids on campus! And the fifth graders are going to start middle school! I said people sometimes forget their strength when playing with others. Even if some of the boys like to rough-house, I cautioned that not all people enjoy playing that way. I reminded them that they are growing up, and that part of this is learning to behave with care and to consider other people. I said that their bodies belong to them and if they don’t want someone to touch them, they can assert this. And that they need to remember that other peoples’ bodies do not belong to them, and to respect this.

All the kids nodded that they understood, and I segued into the day’s program. And the two boys I specifically hoped would get the message? I glanced at them as I talked to the group (I looked at everyone), and I could see in their eyes they understood. That was sufficient. And they all went on to have an excellent day in program, which is amazing, considering there are only nine days left of school.

Meanwhile, Time Passes

Another week wanes. June is sneaking through the back door. Nearly one-half of this year has slipped through the net. We can’t catch time. We can only immerse ourselves in it, and flow along.

There’s no news about Sophie. I called yesterday and today and was told the report hadn’t come in yet. Drat. Now I have to wait until Tuesday to find out if this is benign. Her belly is healing up nicely, and she’s back to her regular quirky, perky behavior.

This evening I’ve tended to job tasks — setting up final tests for our students. I also tinkered with my art page, neatening the photo edges and adding borders. It looks pretty nice, I think.

I’ve been devouring books lately. I have a voracious appetite, and perhaps a bit of a compulsion to remain absorbed in words, a story. Lately I’m reading mostly memoir, biography, or fiction, though soon I plan to start Peter Kramer’s recent book.

Meanwhile, we have our good days and bad days. I’m not speaking only of the “royal we,” but of we who reside in the household. Grief has made us fragile. A small tension can jolt our equilibrium. I’m irascible; my edges protrude, I’m angry about certain things (sometimes I’m just angry but don’t know why), and I’m finding little compassion within. We don’t have much to spare for ourselves, for each other, or for the needs of other members of our tribe.

Still, I read the following with interest, and was heartened:

Compassion has been advocated by all the great faiths because it has been found to be the safest and surest means of attaining enlightenment. It dethrones the ego from the center of our lives and puts others there, breaking down the carapace of selfishness that holds us back from an experience of the sacred. And it gives us ecstasy, broadening our perspectives and giving us a larger, enhanced vision. As a very early Buddhist poem puts it: “May our loving thoughts fill the whole world; above, below, across — without limit; a boundless goodwill toward the whole world, unrestricted, free of hatred and enmity.” We are liberated from personal likes and dislikes that limit our vision, and are able to go beyond ourselves.

This insight is not confined to Buddhism, however. The late Jewish scholar Abraham Joshua Heschel once said that when we put ourselves at the opposite pole of ego, we are in a place where God is. The Golden Rule requires that every time we are tempted to say or do something unpleasant about a rival, an annoying colleague, or a country with which we are at war, we should ask ourselves how we should like this said of or done to ourselves, and refrain. In that moment we would transcend the frightened egotism that often needs to wound or destroy others in order to shore up the sense of ourselves. If we lived in such a way on a daily, hourly basis, we would not only have no time to worry overmuch about whether there was a personal god “out there”; we would achieve constant ecstasy, because we would be ceaselessly going beyond ourselves, our selfishness and greed.

–Karen Armstrong, The Spiral Staircase: My Climb Out of Darkness

There is someone in my life for whom I am struggling to find compassion. And, while I may write thoughtfully on this blog and provide numerous illuminating quotes, I remain hobbled by my own ego and selfishness. Posting this material here is my praxis. Surely with enough repetition, I will heal and re-shape my response to the world, and to this person.