James M. Walsh Pastoral Counseling

A friend and colleague recently used this quote from Albert Einstein in an address to students about to graduate with a Masters degree in Clinical Mental Health Counseling:

“A human being is a part of the whole called by us the ‘Universe,’ a part limited in time and space.  He experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings, as something separate from the rest – a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness.  This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to affection for a few persons nearest to us.  Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty.  Nobody is able to achieve this completely, but the striving for such achievement is in itself part of the liberation and a foundation for inner security.”

Einstein is said to have responded with these words to a distraught father whose young son had recently died.  His words directed the father to turn his attention outward; to recognize that ALL persons are his closest and dearest relations, not just his son.  It is a delusion, he states, to see yourself as separate from humanity.  I am quite certain that this father experienced Einstein’s letter as a challenge, for the grief of a child’s death, one’s own child, overwhelms the soul.  Einstein’s directive to experience all living creatures and the whole of nature as equally deserving of our affection seems reasonable to do in good times, but so difficult when facing such a horror.

Such grief is not everyday grief, at least not for most of us.  All struggle with ordinary sadness, and some struggle with the torpor of acedia, the “noonday demon” depicted by ancient monks as the most troublesome of all evil thoughts.  When in the mental state of acedia one experiences a state of not caring, a sense of disconnectedness from the world, an apathy about one’s own needs and the needs of others.  Not quite depression, acedia saps spiritual joy from one’s demeanor, and leaves one in a downward spiral toward despair.  In his Summa Theologica Aquinas defined acedia as “sorrow of the world…sorrow about spiritual good” that leads to a person’s flight from the Divine good.  Acedia is in direct contrast to the spiritual joy of charity, of unconditional loving of our fellow man.

Ancient contemplatives knew this noonday demon well.  The Desert Fathers lived in seclusion, often as solitary hermits, where the temptation to become restless, bored, unable to either work or pray, can become beguiling.  Called to solitude in order to experience the living God, these ancient monks recognized that their prayer and meditation were in service of deepening their compassion for all human beings.  They were not called to isolation; they were called to experience the universality of our communion.  The greatest of these monks provided succor for the world, and left behind works of wisdom that demonstrate their profound connection to the Divine and to the world.  But at its worst this life in the desert could easily provoke spiritual lassitude, the state of acedia that all contemplative masters warn of.

Many people in our modern society experience isolation.  Though surrounded by means of communication that boggle one’s imagination, intimate human exchange is often cast aside in favor of the instantaneous rather than the emerging, the literal rather than the metaphorical, the cognitive rather than the affective, and the informative rather than the formative.  I believe that we accept this isolation mindlessly, seeking the pleasures of stimulation offered in our online age rather than waiting and watching for the satisfaction that comes from true and deep intimacy.  We are a restless people; we want more pleasure.  Should we be shocked, therefore, at our glut of gluttony, our addiction to distraction, and our need for a quick fix to our inner knowing that something just isn’t right with us?

Einstein was right; we’re delusional.  We believe we are separate from one another, and our information age reinforces this delusion with the illusions of connectedness it offers.  So we suffer, and call it depression but perhaps it’s something else, perhaps it is actually acedia. This acedia is, in some ways, deeper than depression.  It lingers, leading us to seek one stimulation after another, maybe in material goods, or in superficial relations, at times in the allure of casual sexuality, at other times in the pleasures of stimulating drugs and alcohol and the bright lights of the gambling hall, maybe to become fixated on the computer screen staring at images of light that divert our attention away from actual experiencing.  We run to the psychiatrist for a pill, and maybe it relieves for a time.  We seek out a therapist and hope for an answer, some wisdom that will make sense of it all.  Self help books, gurus, meditation halls, far flung retreats that promise answers; we forget to look within to our simple need for human connectedness, then to look outside of ourselves and offer compassion to a suffering world.  Einstein was right.  Our salvation lies with the realization that the circle of compassion must be as wide as the universe.  That we must strive to embrace all living creatures and nature in its beauty.  And that we will fail, and it will hurt at times, but the striving itself is the liberation, and that with this striving comes the foundation for inner security.

If you believe you are depressed, and find that your depression leaves you listless, not caring for your own well being, cut off from humanity, take heart in Einstein’s words.  Know that there is an answer for the delusion of separateness, for the spiritual isolation of acedia.  Reach within to find the compassion that you have, however much or little, and then reach out and allow whatever compassion you are capable of feeling to be experienced by the people around you who suffer.  In this you will find your relief.  And it will be a relief that takes enormous effort, and may be more painful than you can imagine at first as it forces you to shake off all of your illusions about disconnectedness and you see how superficial you have become.  But by finding deep connection, by coming to know that you are a part of the whole, not separate from the whole, all of your pain will make sense to you, and all of your suffering will begin to diminish.  Seek compassion, and finding all, find the ALL.

Peace,

Jim

In his spiritual classic “Thoughts in Solitude,” Thomas Merton wrote:

“When I speak, it is a demand that others remain silent so I alone may be heard. When I am silent, I hear my true self and reach my soul. When I am silent, I hear with a caring heart. Silence teaches us to know reality by respecting it where words have defiled it. If our life is poured out in useless words, we will never hear anything because we have said everything before we had anything to say.”

Our sitting in aloneness is our preferential option for solitude. One way to understand solitude is that it is the joyful aspect of being alone. In solitude, I can hear my own voice, represented verbally, in my thoughts and words, but also non-verbally, in the feelings, inclinations, sensations, and inspirations that arise in the spontaneous ground of awareness. In solitude I have not sought escape from the world, but rather retreat, a chance to fall back in order to take stock of my self and my situation, allowing time to heal, if necessary, and respond to the direction of my inner self. In solitude I silence my voice and allow my body to enter into stillness. In solitude I become receptive, curious, ready. In solitude my intention is to return to the world refreshed and renewed, more capable of compassion, with eyes and ears that see with greater clarity.

In contrast is the preferential option for isolation. One way to understand isolation is that it is the painful aspect of being alone. There is pain that arises over and over again in this world, pain that becomes suffering in our rejection of the reality of life. In pain I might seek escape, developing an illusion that in escape the essential pain of living will dissipate, and all will be pleasure. In isolation it is my voice that must be heard above all others, so that my needs will be met, so that my will be done. In isolation my words are useless because they fail to take account of the suffering of others. In isolation my intention is to descend deeper into a way of being based on denial and defensiveness.

To live in solitude is to share in the spiritual journey of others who seek clarity of mind and peace of heart. Living in solitude one accepts life on life’s terms, seeking better insight into the way of things while focusing on relieving the suffering of others. The paradox of living in solitude is that it achieves its highest fruition only when lived in community, side by side with like minded people. When I sit in meditation in my personal space it is with the intention to have an open and caring heart. When I leave the meditation cushion I reenter the world of people and things filled with compassion, better able to see joy and suffering emerging moment to moment. When I sit in meditation in the midst of my spiritual community I share in the collected wisdom and compassion of the group, strengthened by the personal and interpersonal bonds that have formed over the years of sitting together. Sitting in community, breaking open our hearts and minds to one another, sharing a meal and laughter, we become united and sustained.

If you are in isolation find a spiritual community. Find the people who are a part of your natural “spiritual tribe.” Sit alone, and sit with them. Break open your heart; be vulnerable. Silence your voice, bring stillness to your mind and body. Allow wisdom to enter; let compassion emerge.

Peace,

Jim

Once again, the answer can be found in the NY Times!  Here’s a link to a great article to read that was published there on Thursday, March 13, 2014.

http://www.nytimes.com/2014/03/13/business/retirementspecial/the-science-of-older-and-wiser.html?action=click&module=Search&region=searchResults%230&version=&url=http%3A%2F%2Fquery.nytimes.com%2Fsearch%2Fsitesearch%2F%23%2Fscience%2520of%2520older%2520and%2520wiser%2F&_r=0

I love the title: “The Science of Older and Wiser.”  As I grow older (59 and counting) I’m hoping that I’m at least getting a little wiser.  As I read this article I was struck by the number of attributes of wisdom that connect deeply with the spirit and attitude of mindfulness.  Here are a few examples:

1. “One must take time to gain insights and perspectives from one’s cognitive knowledge to be wise (the reflective dimension of being wise).  Then one can use those insights to understand and help others (the compassionate dimension of being wise).”

2. “Wise people are able to accept reality as it is, with equanimity.”

3. “(Wisdom is) an expert knowledge system concerning the fundamental pragmatics of life…(There is) general wisdom, the kind that involves understanding life from an observer’s point of view (for example as an advice giver), and personal wisdom, which involves deep insight into one’s own life.”

4. “If you are wise…you’re not only regulating your emotional state, you’re also attending to another person’s emotional state…You’re not focusing so much on what you need and deserve, but on what you can contribute.”

5. “One aspect of wisdom is having a very wide horizon which doesn’t center on ourselves or even on our own group or organization.”

As I reread these quotes they seem to capture the essence of our mindfulness practice.  We sit with our minds calm and focused, accepting everything, curious, not judging, alert yet relaxed.  When these conditions become present, then we are fully present to the moment-to-moment emergence of the mental objects that stream through our minds.  There are moments of great stillness in our sitting, moments when we see with clarity and are able to let go of the illusions we’ve created about ourselves and the world.  From this clarity comes an instinctive compassionate response to our own suffering and the suffering of others (#1, above).  But this compassionate response is only possible if we allow ourselves to accept reality as it is, with equanimity (#2, above).  These insights are not only about our own experience in the world, but also the nature of the world and the people in it (#3, above).  As a result of this clarity, our bodily sensations and perceptions and emotions are no longer “the driver,” but rather simply indications concerning where we can best direct our attention, suggesting the next most skillful response to the unfolding events (#4, above).  In our mindfulness work, the ultimate lesson for each of us is that this existence is not about me; ego-centric living becomes completely non-sensical (#5, above).

Why do we sit?  Why do we work our minds in this way day by day by day?  Jon Kabat-Zinn’s Mindfulness Based Stress Reduction (MBSR) program teaches that mindfulness helps to relieve the body’s stress response, with many beneficial clinical consequences.  I’m in favor of that, of course, but is it enough to sit in order to be less stressed out?  Maybe it is, but there’s a tiny voice in my mind saying “take more, take more.”  Stress reduction may be the roots and stems of mindfulness practice, but the cultivation of wisdom and compassion must surely be the flowering of this eternal plant.  The MBSR program clearly invites its participants to go further, an invitation that reappears in each moment of sitting, as our minds become clear, and insights arise, and compassion emerges.  Perhaps you, too, might here that tiny voice exhorting you to take more as you sit in the stillness of this day and the next.

Peace,

Jim

I had the pleasure of sharing lunch yesterday with a good friend who told me about her two year old daughter’s occasional “need” for chocolate at midnight.  Don’t worry; she made it clear that the little rascal does not actually get any chocolate at midnight, but who hasn’t had an absolutely insane need, like eating chocolate at midnight, at one time or another?  I believe we had plenty of those insane needs as two year olds, and I hope that we all had a parent as wise as my friend to make sure we didn’t get what we thought we needed.

I have to confess that I have the occasional insane need too.  Just the other day, after what seemed like the hundredth snowfall of this winter season, I actually looked at real estate listings in Florida!  Now, that might not seem like a terribly insane need but asking my wife to pack her bags and move to Florida would cause an awful lot of insanity in my life (“too many bugs and things that crawl in Florida” she says).  On top of that I have an active clinical practice, I teach in a Masters degree clinical education program that means the world to me, and I’m involved in a professional organization that is dedicated to improving the lives of Delawareans affected by mental illness.  And just a mile from my home is the edge of hundreds of acres of pristine forest known as the White Clay Creek State Park, where there are scores of trails for running and biking and contemplating.  In other words, I have a great life here in Delaware.  But in that moment, with a combination of snow, sleet, and freezing rain cascading across the windshield of my car, my feet frozen and my fingers a bit numb, moving to Florida seemed like an awfully good idea.

Did my friend’s little girl “need” chocolate at midnight?  Of course not, but in her two year old mind, in that moment, perhaps with an hungry belly, it sure seemed like it to her.  Did I “need” to move to Florida last week in the middle of that snowstorm?  Of course not, but in  my mind, in that moment, with a body hungry for warmth and comfort, it sure seemed like it to me.  Adults and children alike, we all have our moments of intense need.  The men and women of Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) have an acronym that can help us all to understand this phenomenon: HALT (“Hungry, Angry, Lonely, Tired”).  Our friends in AA have it right; when the human drive system, the part of our brain/body that “wants” is aroused, that “wanting” sure feels like a “needing” and it’s hard to resist.  Our brain/body creates a sensation that feels like an imperative.  It is as if the person is being dictated to, commanded to act in response to the brain/body’s arousal.  And when we acquiesce, when we feed the arousal of wanting we feel pleasure and relief.  If repeated often enough, the sequence of wanting, needing, feeding becomes conditioned, then habituated, and then a mindless routine leading to more pain, and more clinging.

I think that we all cling to some sort of chocolate at midnight.  It comes in many forms; for the person in a hurry, it’s the way people drive on the highway.  For the teenager with a secret crush, it’s the attention of that someone special.  For the person struggling to succeed, it might be a fantasy of wealth and excess.  The most difficult pieces of chocolate, at least for me, are those that involve losing something.  A beloved parent dies, and I argue to myself that it’s not fair, that he died before his time.  A therapy client relapses into his alcohol addiction, and I see myself as a failure, and that can’t be tolerated because I must always succeed, at least in my mind.  A dear friend’s situation changes and she has to move far away, and I want her to stay because it’s so good to have her near.  All of these things I want, all of these things I need in order to be happy.  But it’s not these things that are making me unhappy, it’s that I cling to them as if they were the conditions of happiness, and they’re not.

So instead I choose acceptance, I choose to ride a road that includes dying fathers, relapsing clients, and friends who move away.  It hurts to not have these pieces of chocolate, but the hurt soon fades, and in letting go I see new ways to honor my father, another pathway to help my client, and a thousand ways I can continue to enjoy my friendship, even at a distance.  It turns out there really wasn’t any chocolate at midnight to cling to, only my mind clinging to ideas of chocolate as if ideas were reality.  And breathing in I notice these ideas, breathing out I feel solid and stable, knowing I live and breathe as these thoughts and feelings and sensations pulse in and around me.  And that these thoughts and feelings and sensations come and go, wax and wane, are ephemeral.  There is nothing really there to cling to, just an illusion that I created by myself and can uncreate as soon as I practice acceptance.

What is your chocolate at midnight?  What ideas and feelings and sensations do you cling to?  What illusions do you have about the way things “must” be?  Don’t feel bad, we all have them.  A thousand pieces of chocolate may exist in your mind, and they may all be a source of pain for you, but in clinging to them that pain is transformed into suffering.  Let go, allow the clinging to dissolve into acceptance, and feel your suffering dissolve too.  You may still have pain, but pain comes and goes, waxes and wanes.  And in the accepting your mind becomes free to see other paths, other ways of being.

Peace,

Jim

What do you want?  What do you need?  Do you confuse the two?

Yesterday my wife and I spent a few wandering hours in the arboretum at Longwood Gardens in Kennett Square, PA  (http://longwoodgardens.org).  When you first enter the arboretum after a very cold and windy walk from the entry building you are literally smashed in the face with warm humid air that smells like spring rain.  In the midst of winter cold and dry and the feeling of a stinging face you feel spectacularly awake and back “in the moment.”  And there before you is this view:

I think visiting an arboretum in winter is a great antidepressant.  I felt like I was absorbing energy; it was like the chlorophyll in the plants had mercy on me and shared a bit of their abundance!  There’s a children’s garden there that’s a delight, and a vast collection of orchids.  And among all of the ornamental and somewhat exotic plants, there’s a section with garden plants!  What a delight it was to see tomatoes growing again, and to rub our hands on the various herbs (especially the rosemary) and get that delicious smell into our senses.

But I think the best part of the visit happened after we had been strolling about for two hours and sat down in the main atrium.  Here’s the picture I took from my seat:

I couldn’t help but notice how little the plants needed.  Sunlight, water, soil; the right climate.  That’s all, that’s everything.  The plants are present, asking for nothing but what they need, not really asking of course.  The “asking” is in our imagination, a way to give a bit of our own mindedness to the plants.  The plants grow and become what they are meant to become, and have no desire, no “wanting.”  They are content, again allowing for an injection of a human quality, to simply be, and be themselves as fully as their environment allows.  I think the Catholic monk/poet Thomas Merton captured this quality when he described the ancient carvings of the Buddha and his followers at Polonnaruwa in Ceylon.  Merton wrote about “…the silence of the extraordinary faces.  The great smiles.  Huge and yet subtle.  Filled with every possibility, questioning nothing, knowing everything, rejecting nothing, the peace not of emotional resignation but (the peace) that has seen through every question without trying to discredit anyone or anything.”

These plants, this arboretum, “knows” what it needs, and is perfect as a result.  It is only us, the spectator, who imagines that “it” wants anything else.  Of course “it” is not what the plants want, but rather our own desire to make the world in our own image and likeness, a heresy in any religion.

Do you know what you need?  Do you know what you want?  Do you know the difference?  If you do, then you know peace.  If you know this peace, then you are mindful, filled with every possibility, questioning nothing, rejecting nothing, not trying to discredit anyone or anything.

Peace,

Jim

The quote from Thomas Merton can be found on page 233 of “The Asian Journal of Thomas Merton,” published by New Directions.  Here’s a photo of one of those extraordinary figures that he described:

The foundation of mindfulness meditation practice is to bring directed attention to some aspect of our experiencing.  Breathing is simplest; always there, noticeable at the tips of the nostrils very viscerally, or in the rising and falling of the belly, even in the movement of the chest muscles.  Attention can also be paid to any number of mental objects, including thoughts, images, sensations, sensory objects, or emotions.  The mind that notices its activity, brings focused attention to that activity, without judging, is the mindful state we seek to develop.

What’s the point of this ongoing practice?  Simply to strengthen the mind’s capacity to be fully present, in this moment, with acceptance.  Why bother?  There are a lot of good reasons, some of them psychological, many of them religious/spiritual, and still more related to our physical health.  This practice is associated with psychological well being, spiritual peace, and stress reduction.  In a nutshell, spending 10 or 15 minutes every day in mindfulness practice is good for you in any way you can imagine.

Today’s (January 19, 2014) NY Times magazine has an excellent article about mindfulness meditation.  Here’s the link to that article:

http://www.nytimes.com/2014/01/19/magazine/breathing-in-vs-spacing-out.html?ref=magazine&_r=0

The author, Dan Hurley, makes many of the same points I’ve made about the benefits of mindfulness, but he raises an interesting and important issue about a drawback to the practice.  It turns out that the focused state of mind promoted by mindfulness practice is contrary to the “spaced out frame of mind” that many, including me, find conducive to creativity.  I agree.  My experience with the creative moment is that the mind is free of any fetters, wandering a bit.  There’s a line in the Beatles’ song “Across the Universe” (a John Lennon composition) that captures this perfectly:  “Thoughts meander like a restless wind inside a letterbox, they tumble blindly as they make their way across the universe.”

I don’t think that mindfulness practice inhibits or hampers creativity.  To the contrary, I think it enhances the creative process after the initial stroke of insight that initiates, at least for me, creative work.  I’ve noticed over the years that as my mind has developed the capacity to maintain an evenly divided attention, there’s an underlying awareness of thoughts meandering, without in any way trying to dampen the emerging looseness of associations.  In my counseling work this state of mind seems valuable as a tool to help me to make connections that may be helpful to my therapy clients.  So, in a somewhat paradoxical way, that state of “spacing out” that is associated with creativity seems to combine seamlessly with a noticing mind that makes space for the spacing out.  So as I’m in full blown “wandering mind mode” I’m noticing it mindfully.  Sometimes I notice some novel way of understanding things in that attention to mind wandering.  If I  choose to pursue that novel idea, then being able to concentrate on that idea facilitates the ensuing creative process.

In a way the spaced out mind and the sharply focused mind are two sides of a mental coin, and both can be noticed mindfully.  That seems a bit odd to say; if your mind is wandering or sharply focused, what exactly is doing the noticing?  It’s your own mind noticing of course, your own mind in the act of self awareness; “I am aware that I am aware.”

Well, I hope that makes sense.  In any case, I think this article in the Times is essential reading for those of us who practice mindfulness.  Happy reading!

Peace,

Jim

When I was in sales (17 years, the first 9 in territories, the last 8 in management) I came to the conclusion that the decisions my customers made whether to buy a product or not were not predictable.  I always made my sales quotas, but I had a terrible track record predicting which accounts would close and when they would place their orders.  I became adept at giving my superiors sales forecasts that came true, but only on the bottom line.  I could generally guess how much income my territory would generate, but your guess was as good as mine concerning which prospects would account for the revenue.

I am not embarrassed to make this observation.  It has been my experience that people make decisions based much more on how they feel about the choices they have than what is the most logical action to take.  Years ago I came to the conclusion that one could divide the world into two camps.  First, there are the people who make decisions quickly but can apply rational thought to the issue after the fact so they can amend or alter that decision, as they see fit.  The other group of people are the ones who paid for my kids‘ college education:  quick deciders, with no after the fact rational process.  I really liked selling to that second crowd; once they’re on your side they won’t budge (conversely, of course, if they’re not on your side at first…).  But in the long run the better customers were the first lot, who were able to backfill their feeling-driven decision with solid logic and rational thought.  The second group may have led to a lot of good commissions, but the first group were the repeat customers that helped pay the bills month after month.

Our minds have many processes occurring simultaneously, most of them remaining hidden from our active, day to day awareness.  The process we notice most easily is discursive thought.  It has the feel of intentionality, is usually goal directed, and seems like the final word on how we live each moment of our lives.  But in our mindfulness practices we begin to notice that there’s much more going on underneath the radar of our awareness than discursive thought.  There are emotions arising, urges and desires, bodily sensations, memories in images and sounds and other sensations, feelings of boredom, and the inevitable need to go to the bathroom.  I think the sub rosa processes that are the most interesting to me are the urges and desires, which take on the aura of a command.  Sometimes those urges are a command to move, or stop meditating, or to think about some problem or make plans for the tasks to come later in the day.  My desires may command me to focus on some pleasant memory or person or event.  The urge may be as mundane as the command to scratch an itch, and I never ceased to be amazed at how many there are.

This non-rational part of your mind truly commands many of the actions you engage in during the course of a normal day.  Sometimes you might call it your intuition, sometimes you may say “I just felt like it,” and sometimes you might wonder “why did I do THAT?!”  But the bottom line, it seems to me, is that the non-rational processes in my mind dictate much of what I say and do and I want to become better acquainted with them.

When you sit in mindfulness meditation pay attention to the coursing of the mind.  Like a stream meandering through the wilderness, its twists and turns come as a surprise, but when viewed through a rear view mirror they may seem logical and even inevitable.  Your mind will seem, ironically, to have a “mind of its own,” though that idea raises some existential dread!  But as you become more closely aware of your non-rational mind, approach it with this intention: “you cannot make the irrational rational, you can only experience it.”  That is a quote from Neil Genzlinger, the New York Times book reviewer and theater and television critic, from his article (in the Sunday Times Travel section on 11/10/13) about the first time he ran in a Ragnar, an insanely fun way to run an extraordinary distance in relay with friends over the course of several days.  Here’s the link to the article; it’s well worth reading:

And, as always, may your life be filled with the blessings of living mindfully, with the intention to accept life as it emerges, considering every possibility, questioning nothing.

Peace,

Jim

I recently was invited to give a talk to a group of people in the “Helping Relationship” field on the topic of Resilience.  This is an issue for those of us who choose to be helpers, as we frequently find ourselves helping others to be resilient but not paying much attention to our own well being.  I know I’ve found myself getting into low spirits, physical exhaustion and emotional diminishment from not taking care of myself.  As they say on any commercial flight: “First, put on your own oxygen mask…”

Some of the people at this conference found my talk helpful.  So I decided to post the PowerPoint slides I used with an embedded narrative.  Perhaps you’ll find the material helpful for you.

In the meantime, if you want to read a good book on the topic of Willpower and self-regulation, which are the heart and soul of Resilience, try “Willpower: Rediscovering the Greatest Human Strength” by Roy Baumeister and John Tierney.  It’s a great read filled with excellent information.

And here’s my presentation; it’s a little under 40 minutes long: Resilience and Ego Depletion With Narrative

Peace,

Jim

So, why be forgiveness-centered rather than justice-centered?  I think there are three good reasons that argue for forgiving as the go-to response to any act of meanness or neglect on the part of another person.  But before I articulate those three reasons, I want to be completely clear on one point: forgiveness does not mean you allow a perpetrator to violate you again!  If someone is dangerous, you keep a strong boundary and, if it is appropriate, make certain that others are protected as well.  But most of the violations we experience day to day do not have such an existential threat, and it’s the day to day violations that can cast us into the downward spiral of anger and retribution seeking.  With that in mind, here are my three reasons for making forgiveness your go-to response to those day to day violations:

First, having a basic orientation toward forgiveness is good for your body.  Our friends whose primary focus is on getting justice have more frequent health problems in many areas including hypertension, digestive system problems (ulcers, IBS…), fatigue; basically any health issue related to chronically elevated stress levels.  The second reason is that forgiveness is good for your mind.  People who are forgiving by nature are much less likely to struggle with a host of neurotic disorders, beginning with depression and anxiety and including addiction and problems with impulse control.  Finally, forgiveness is good for the soul.  While we can certainly define the conditions that tend to reduce suffering, we struggle sometimes to understand the conditions under which people report deep satisfaction with life, finding serenity and tranquility that transcends body and mind.  Try forgiving unconditionally and see how it changes you.  Your body will be more relaxed, your mind will be at ease, but you’ll also feel something deeper, something that makes you feel more alive.

In a sense forgiveness is a form of love.  When we choose to forgive we choose to turn the other cheek, to let go of the desire to strike back.  Why bother?  Martin Luther King, Jr. said it clearly: “Love is the only force capable of transforming an enemy into a friend.”  But it’s not only love extended to others; it’s love extended to ourselves.  Alexandra Asseily, a Lebanese psychotherapist who advocates for forgiveness between the warring communities in Beirut, has said that “If we let go of the pain in the memory, we can have the memory, but it doesn’t control us.”  This is our challenge: to love those who hurt us so that we do not condemn ourselves to being controlled by the pain they have caused.

This challenge encompasses adopting a different mindset than most of us have been taught.  Once again I’d like to quote Martin Luther King, Jr.:  “We must develop and maintain the capacity to forgive.  He who is devoid of the power to forgive is devoid of the power to love.  There is some good in the worst of us and some evil in the best of us.  When we discover this, we are less prone to hate our enemies.”

I think we all love to put energy into discovering the mountains of good inside each of us, but alongside our self-esteem building I think it is also important to acknowledge the shadow side we all have, and lose any sense of self righteousness when faced with the shadow side of another.  And if you think about it, isn’t your shadow side really just a reflection of those areas of your life where you’ve been hurt the most?  Think about that for a second.  There are parts of you that hurt people, or can be petty or greedy or inconsiderate or, at times, even hateful.  When those little toads of ignorance come flying out of your mouth, isn’t that just the part of you that got badly hurt and doesn’t trust anymore?  Perhaps just wants to protect you from more hurt?  Well, if that’s true about you, then it’s true about the person who might have just hurt YOUR feelings!  Wouldn’t it be easy to forgive if you saw the hurtful actions of another as evidence of their suffering instead of as evidence of their defective character?  And if you recognized that this person in front of you who just hurt you is actually suffering, wouldn’t you want to respond with compassion, with forgiveness?

Why be forgiving by nature?  Because we all need to be forgiven!  Fred Luskin of Stanford University put it this way: “Forgiveness of self emerges when we understand that even with our own actions we do not have total control.  Everybody makes mistakes.”  If it’s OK for me to make a mistake, then the least I can do is forgive you when YOU make a mistake.

So here’s my advice if you want to be a more forgiving person.  First, set the intention early in each day.  Decide before you begin the work of the day that you wish to be forgiving today.  Second, notice.  Be aware of anger when it arises.  Pay attention to how it changes your body and your mind.  Then take a mindful breath, accept that your body and mind are in this state, and look outside of yourself for a moment.  See the person in front of you as someone who has hurts and suffering all his/her own.  Know that whatever that person just did, you might have done the same or something similar (it’s always dangerous to say “I’d never do that!”).  Accept that person as he/she is; it’s not your job to change them.  Then let this question guide you: “How can I help this other person to suffer less?”  Perhaps it’s a simple “Are you OK?”  Or maybe you simply say out loud that you can see that he/she is upset/angry/sad/afraid and “I don’t want to make this worse for you.”  Or maybe you simply return a kind word, gesture, or action for the slight or insult.

Often, when in the moment that hurts, we don’t have the presence of mind to make a skillful response like I’m advocating for in the paragraph above.  That’s OK; that just means that in our meditations or thinking through later on we go through the same process I’ve described.  The key is to see this other person as someone who thinks and feels and acts much like any other person, including yourself.  And then to remember that you have an opportunity to help through your kindness.  Small thoughtful acts of forgiving will change the world one person at a time, beginning with yourself.

One final suggestion.  Archbishop Desmond Tutu wrote a book called “No Future Without Forgiveness” about the Truth and Reconciliation Commission that then-President Nelson Mandela formed to begin the healing process in South Africa after the end of apartheid.  If you don’t think forgiveness is possible or important, then please watch Desmond Tutu’s conversation with the journalist Bill Moyers.  It’s only 10 minutes, but it describes the transfiguration that forgiveness brings about:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eRDBWoV_hA0

Peace,

Jim

In my first post on forgiveness I focused on anger and its consequences.  I don’t want to give the impression that I’m against anger as a human experience.  Anger happens, it’s what our bodies do when we perceive an injustice.  The issue isn’t finding some magical way to never FEEL anger in our bodies but rather the issue is to find the most skillful means to work to relieve that anger.  Anger hurts; anger perpetuated hurts badly.  The health consequences (see the video link in the previous post) can become catastrophic.

I believe it is important to look at anger as a sign that your body gives you to act, in the moment, to correct an injustice.  But it’s important to know that there are many options to consider, not just to act aggressively through a loud voice or a pounding fist or a threatening stare.  If you think about it, learning to diminish your bodily anger will enable your mind to diminish its emotional reasoning, which inevitably leads to the adoption of a broader cognitive perspective.  So if you can diminish your bodily anger, not only will your body fare better from a health perspective, but you’ll be able to think more clearly and resolve the injustice with greater skill.  I’d call this a true win/win!

So, the first step in the forgiveness process is simply to notice when anger is arising, and adopting the intention to diminish its strength.  This is where our mindfulness practice is essential.  When the body gets revved up in anger it can be very difficult to begin to relax.  If you have a mindfulness practice you know that simply taking a mindful breath, perhaps with your eyes gently closed, and redirecting your anger-focused attention for a few moments to the peacefulness of your breathing can immediately help your body to stand down.  A simple mindful breath, for one who meditates regularly and has learned to be present non-judgmentally, will slow the body and the mind down to a manageable speed.

With our bodies and minds moving a bit more slowly, the process of cognitive widening occurs.  Now we are able to take perspective, to see a bigger picture.  We can look at the event provoking our anger and ask a few simple questions: Does this truly concern me?  Has this person intentionally acted to cause pain and suffering?  Can this problem be corrected?  Is it MY job to correct it?  Should this person be punished for what s/he has done?  Or should I let go of this and move on?

Notice something: I’m not talking about a major event, a lifetime transgression, something traumatic.  I’m talking about the day-to-day events that happen without warning, and cause annoyance.  The customer service representative who treats you rudely.  The boss who criticizes you publicly.  Your wife/husband who forgets to do something you needed him/her to get done.  Your son/daughter acting disrespectfully.  I could go on and on, but I think you get the picture.

It’s helpful if we can correct the transgression, and make right whatever has gone wrong.  But now I think it’s essential to decide, in the course of a day-to-day annoying event, do I put my energy into punishing this person, getting justice, or do I forgive instead?  We can spin our wheels and expend a lot of energy being the arbiter of justice, and God knows there are plenty of opportunities, if we so choose, to act as judge and jury.  But in this world of small annoyances, what good does this really do for you?  Has your day gotten better because you were able to tell the customer service representative what a jerk he is?  Or told stories about your boss behind her back to make her look foolish?  Or made your wife/husband feel defensive with a cutting remark?  Or made your child feel small and powerless by exacting punishment for every mistake he makes?  I can only speak for myself, but being focused on BEING RIGHT is exhausting and, frankly, not a very skillful way to living a life worth living.

If you’re like me, you want to be more forgiving than judgmental and punishing.  But it’s not always easy to do so.  It requires that you work at it, work that, in my opinion, is very spiritual work.  It requires that you see things from the other person’s point of view, understand how their actions made sense to them in the moment they did them, and make a conscious effort, set a mindful intention, to not act toward that other person with anger.  Instead, to act toward that person in kindness, with compassion, to demonstrate your caring and concern for them, over and above yourself.

Well, that’s counter-cultural!  And can be controversial if not fully understood and accepted.  More to come in my next post!  But until that time, please take a few minutes to read and watch about Forgiveness and Justice.  I think you’ll see where I’m going with this if you do.  Here’s the link:  http://www.thepowerofforgiveness.com/understanding/index.html#

Peace,

Jim