It's Okay to Be a Three Year Old (June 1-3, 2007)

To think there was a moment I was worried I might lose the pain before I could learn enough! Seems a little silly, in retrospect. Obviously, I haven't learned near enough yet, as I keep learning the same lessons over and over again. It seems like every couple weeks my body lets me know it has a new plan for how I can learn something more about either patience, humility, or something equally wonderful to have and equally unpleasant to actually obtain. I'm afraid I'm being particularly dense this time around about accepting things as they are. I find myself railing against the endless winter though it is only February, and being angry when it seems I went through surgery for nothing because the problems are reasserting themselves, or when new physical problems develop. I wish my larger Self, the universe, God, my body - whoever is in charge - would just give me a little time to rest and recoup before I had to deal with another round.

Now, how is that for whining? And some of you thought you were good at it! hah! I'm telling you, I am not doing a good job of practicing detachment or acceptance. But I'm working on it.

June 1, 2007

It hasn't been easy, this past week. In fact, it has been so hard that I feel I'll never recover. I'm sure that can't actually be true. I hope and pray that in a week, this will be all-but-forgotten and I'll be revelling in the relief the epidural will bring. Please let it! I'm worried that the shot isn't going to work, that all of this will have been for nothing, physically, since it hasn't kicked in yet. I guess I could look it up in my journal, see for sure how long it took last time. It was gradual, snuck up on me. Perhaps if my head and spine weren't hurting, the side would also stop.

I simply have to accept that I am doing what I can. Make sure that I am doing all I can, and let the rest go.

I had some success yesterday, remembering I am not whitethoughts. Still seems funny to write. Keep thinking that if I progress along the path I'm travelling, the purpose of journaling will change or go away. Why spend so much time writing about an "I" that doesn't exist? Still a long way away. I still believe in whitethoughts. Things are shifting in me. I've begun to feel, when I slip into begging, that I am praying to my Self. I still feel funny saying it because in the Western Christian context it sounds delusional, but my inner picture of God, of whom I am praying to, was first an overlay/hologram type image of Jesus/Krishna – meshed and overlapping and coming in and out of focus. But now I'm starting to see me in there as well, and J, and Indy. A good step, in part because it highlights the ridiculousness of begging for anything – from one's self? If one has the power to affect reality, just do it! Alas, I'm not that capable of directing my will yet. Probably for the damn good reason that I'm not remotely wise enough to use that power correctly.

For example, would I have given myself the lesson in humility, helplessness, detachment and meditation of last week? No WAY! I would give J a job – a high paying teaching job, and take away my own pain. Pretty amazingly selfish, eh? First thought wasn't about Doug, or our goddaughters, or Mom and Dad. So – okay. Thank goodness I don't have (conscious and direct) access to the reality machine. In which case, don't expect begging to disappear right away. Begging is a relief, a release. Begging may be the wrong word, but really that is what it is. Pleading? Throwing myself on the mercy of whoever is in charge?

Point – I am at least beginning to figure it out. That I – or my real Self is in control. What I'm finding, by thinking of myself in the third person, is that my compassion for myself grows. I do begin to see her and her struggles more objectively. But also it is bleeding over into how I see J, and my compassion and love for him also grows. It's after 7, so let me just say this – the 15^th Teaching supports the identification I am making between my Self and Krishna/Jesus/God.

When the lord takes on a body

And then leaves it . . . v.8

Men of discipline who strive

See him present within themselves;

But without self-mastery and reason,

Even those who strive fail to see. v. 11

I dwell deep

In the heart of everyone v. 15

Other is the supreme spirit of man,

Called the supreme self,

The immutable lord who enters

And sustains the three worlds v.17

Whoever knows me without delusion

As the supreme spirit of man

Knows all there is, Arjuna –

He devotes his whole being to me. v.19

June 2

[Detailed discussion of session with pain therapist]

Phyllis had an inspiration while watching me meditate, that mudras might be helpful for me.

I know for sure there are important things to learn from pain. Maybe I have to get to the point where I am truly grateful for each twinge before the pain will go away. Wow; it's hard to get there. I am fighting resentment. I know in my head that life is not fair, that all we ought to expect is more suffering, and that in the grand scheme of things, I have it very easy. I know that there are parts of me that feel resentful toward God and the Universe and all these other people walking around with no pain. Couldn't they stand to learn some patience? Some non-attachment? Disinterest? Sacrifice? Love? Why me?

Oh geez. Silly! Because I know why me! Because me wants to learn those things. My larger Self, for sure. But even my conscious self. I want, with all my heart, to be a better person. So the pain is a way to do that. The pain is a gift, given in love, to provide me an opportunity to learn to be a better person, in all the ways I understand that to mean, and probably more. That means I can't waste it. What if it heals, goes away without my learning anything? Wouldn't that be terrible? I should appreciate every precious moment, as they may go away and never come again. Wow. Can I do that? What does it mean about pain medication? I don't think I'm ready to embrace the pain so much that I give that up totally. I do still have to work. But maybe I can begin to ask myself, if it isn't to do a duty, fulfill a responsibility, at those times I can let the pain be what it is. Even with the meds, there is plenty of pain to learn from.

I guess the lesson for today is that one must fulfill one's duty regardless of discomfort.

June 3

[Discussion of pain (always), work to be done (always) and the proper use of a journal]

One thing I'm consciously working on is getting better control over my thoughts. I have always spent a lot of mental energy replaying conversations, having imaginary confrontations, and especially fixating on moments and issues that angered or hurt me. Easwaran – and of course the Gita – reiterate that we must have mental discipline. Not just when sitting down to meditate but all of the time. Why do I allow my mind to replay a hurtful scene, or to dwell on a slight, or imagine a thousand different ways my students might hate me? Yes, occasionally it is helpful to rehearse something, but most of the time such yammering serves no helpful purpose. So I have been trying to catch myself each time my mind begins. And here again the mantra saves me. I attempt to redirect my mind's attention to the mantra, and let go of the replay or rehearsal. It is quite difficult. A minute later I find my mind has returned to the same old sad story, and I have to re-direct it, over and over. Easwaran promises, based on a lot of experience, that eventually I will have to redirect it less often, and that it will become less frequent that the mind even begins down that road.

Easwaran promises that each repetition of the mantra is like one shovel-full of dirt, bringing us closer to the center as we dig our way down. Thus the mental energy that was getting wasted in an imaginary argument is now being used, being harnessed, to bring us closer to god.

I have so many opportunities for this. Perhaps everyone is like this, but I feel I may be one of the worst offenders, as my mind is a real chatterbox. It never shuts up. If I can manage this turnaround, it will mean I have made an automatic-shovel, and can be digging my way toward God at a constant, steady pace. A way to turn a negative personality trait into a positive god-seeking tool.

Also, I want to report that I have more moments that I used to in which my mind is still. It is wonderful. Obviously, as soon as I recognize the stillness I've created a ripple, but maybe I'll get better about just letting it be, as it becomes less of a novelty.

Hey – maybe that's why I've been able to enjoy going to the movies more – my mind is actually able to attend only to the film for longer chunks of time, instead of rattling on about other things. And all of this growth has happened before I've even been able to begin meditating! At least, meditating the way I intend to.

It's possible that I had to do some of this work, get some practice with the mantra, before I was able to meditate. My mind may have been so undisciplined that it simply couldn't bring itself to truly contemplate meditation. It was last Saturday I felt ready to try. But the headache was truly too intense and I just could not stand to sit up for the full 30 minutes. I feel ready again. I'm eager to see what results daily meditation will bring when I've begun to see such wonderful benefits from just getting better at remembering to say the mantra, and from studying the Gita, of course.

I am a little worried that I am too focused on the fruit. But I think I should let go of that worry. I am too focused on the fruit – the clear, calm mind. The loving, patient, wise personality. But oh well! We all have to start somewhere. I am not mature. Big deal. Neither are three year olds. They aren't bad for being three and not 30, or 90. That is just where they are. If, in terms of meditation, or self-discipline and contemplation, I am less evolved than an infant – well, so be it. I'm an infant. A fetus, even. I need to be more compassionate toward myself.

If my brain begins reciting an old argument or repeating a stupid song, there is no need to berate it, yelling and punishing and being mean, as is my wont. No, just gently correct. Gently redirect. A kindly, "No dear, let's think about God instead" is much more appropriate. I need to remember how young and immature this person is. There is no need to yell at her. Just kindly, with compassion, steer her into the right path.

I know Christianity does not have to be punitive, that in fact Jesus taught compassion and forgiveness. But I picked up very bad habits as a Christian; habits of self-hatred and self-punishment. I categorized my behavior as "bad" or "wrong" any time it was less than Jesus-like perfection, and took myself into terrible cycles of guilt and remorse and shame. I refuse to bring that baggage into this new place. There is no judgment here. No final Judgement Day, no hell, and no punishment except what you give yourself. Be who and where you are. Try to grow. Learn from your mistakes. Correct yourself when you catch yourself taking an unhelpful turn. That's it. No scourge. No inventive self-tortures. Those aren't helpful. They are not kind, patient, compassionate, gentle, forgiving, disinterested – and therefore are not true, not correct. So leave them alone.

There is a lot in the 16^th and 17^th Teachings about this. In the 16^th, The Divine and Demonic in Man, Krishna describes each type of man. The list of adjectives is worth memorizing and repeating, but here I want to note that they apply to one's dealing with oneself, too.

Hypocrisy, arrogance, vanity,

Anger, harshness, ignorance;

These characterize a man

Born with demonic traits v.4

Is it not hypocrisy to preach compassion and then be cruel to oneself? Is it not arrogance and vanity that cause me to think that I alone of all humans should be held to Jesus' standards for himself? What ego to believe I should be perfect at the start! Anger and harshness directed at myself – just a small creature – are just as wrong as if directed at someone else – a small child, a bunny rabbit.

Confused by endless thoughts,

Caught in the net of delusion,

Given to satisfying their desires . . . v. 16

Submitting to individuality, power,

Arrogance, desire, and anger,

They hate me and revile me

In their own bodies, as in others v. 18

And in the 17^th Teaching, Three Aspects of Faith, Krishna, is explaining the "threefold mature of faith inherent in the embodied self" v.2, and after describing sacrifices he says:

Men who practice horrific penances

That go against traditional norms

Are trapped in hypocrisy and individuality,

Overwhelmed by the emotion of desire v.5

Without reason, they torment

The elements composing their bodies,

And they torment me within them;

Know them to have demonic resolve v.6

I am no longer even self-disciplined enough to torture my body in penance, but since childhood this has been my bent. My sinfulness is in how I hypocritically require perfection from myself in exchange for love. It is hard for me to accept the verdict of hypocrisy. The thing I most dislike, most hate, in myself and others. But look how the word keeps showing up in the context of self-punishment. I can't deny it. Ouch. So I have to stop doing these things in my head.

My guess is, from the little experience I've had, that once I am able to be kinder to myself, I will find I'm more compassionate toward others, as well.