Having finished a piece of work just now, I gave myself permission to wander over to tumblr and there I read this:
"As soon as you recognize your true nature as the unchanging Awareness and confirm your position as That itself, the unchanging One, it won’t matter anymore what the psychological, personal mind is saying.
Its play and presence will become distant, like looking at the moon in full daylight. You won’t be listening to it for very long, I tell you.
It will gradually lose its influence and appeal and fall away."
It was completely relevant to the work I had been doing this morning, writing about the process of keeping a journal and how one might write about trauma in a way that doesn't frighten the reader, by use of metaphor. I noted that when I write in a journal - this one or others that I keep for other purposes - I'm aware of writing as myself but also as if I am a reader. I write things down and then I engage with what has been written in a curious way.
I haven't always known what to do with my emotions, with events and happenings, or with challenging relationships. I think, looking back, that related to a sense of powerlessness. Somehow, perhaps by writing in the various journals, or possibly in the containment that I've experienced in the past several years, or the meditative practices, or all of these things, I've learned to be my own witness; to see my self as being the Awareness rather than the myriad of emotional states in which I became fully immersed, whether it felt traumatic or joyful. I established with certainty for myself that emotional states come and go, are never constant and that they are all part of life.
I noticed yesterday that I was starting to feel swamped in the mundane, for example. Since my son is doing his final year of school, often a tedious affair, my job is to keep his spirits up, to encourage him to keep moving forward and from to time, I have the task of getting him to get on with his work. He doesn't like that but he does appreciate, after the fact, that I am prepared to talk the talk about English essays. All in all, the whole year has me working very hard on a multitude of projects, without the opportunity to get away, and from time to time I can feel sorry for myself. Another couple of loads of washing, only the 20,000th of my motherhood; another meal to cook; only the 49,000th of my motherhood.
Of course, the antedote to this is to recognize that it is not forever. It ends in November, only a few months away now. After that, no more school aged children! Or, since I have just read a most profound piece of writing from a woman who lost her baby to cot death, a piece of writing that takes us into the heart of the grief, I can rationalize that I haven't a thing to complain about. And, I don't!
This is the thing. I'm aware of the emotional states now. I'm aware of why they happen, I'm aware I'm in a particular emotional state (not necessarily ready to get out, however), and I'm aware that the state will end. That's the key thing - to be aware that it will end, because people who are going through traumatic times need to know this, that it will end and it will get better.
I used to think that it was impossible to get inside someone's traumatic mind. This theory was debunked for me when I read this piece of writing, as yet unpublished. This is the power of metaphor, I am finding. You need reference points - 'how dare the phone ring', or the sense of being a ghost on a ghost train, or the reaction to wind, or the desire to hear your little boy's voice. One wonders, how did she make it through that? But, she did, she did make it through.
Many years ago I went through a situation that was deeply stressful and hurtful to me. My mother, being on the other side of the world sent me a cutting of the poem, 'Footprints in the Sand'. You'll find it here: http://www.marypages.com/footprints.htm. For countless years I kept it on my desk, under my blotter, and it gave me a great deal of comfort; that sometimes we wonder if there is anyone who cares but, in fact, in retrospect, we realize that someone was actually carrying us through the ordeal the whole time.
Sometimes, that person is oneself. We're aware of our ordeal and we keep a watchful eye on ourselves. We endure and we, ultimately, thrive. In the same way during meditation I often have one thumb grasp the other because it is a small, discreet reminder to myself that I am my own best friend. I'm keeping a watchful, attentive and loving eye on myself.
Perhaps, it can be chalked up to 'maturity' - that sense of peace I feel right now. That too will change. All things change, all the time. I'm okay with that.
"As soon as you recognize your true nature as the unchanging Awareness and confirm your position as That itself, the unchanging One, it won’t matter anymore what the psychological, personal mind is saying.
Its play and presence will become distant, like looking at the moon in full daylight. You won’t be listening to it for very long, I tell you.
It will gradually lose its influence and appeal and fall away."
It was completely relevant to the work I had been doing this morning, writing about the process of keeping a journal and how one might write about trauma in a way that doesn't frighten the reader, by use of metaphor. I noted that when I write in a journal - this one or others that I keep for other purposes - I'm aware of writing as myself but also as if I am a reader. I write things down and then I engage with what has been written in a curious way.
I haven't always known what to do with my emotions, with events and happenings, or with challenging relationships. I think, looking back, that related to a sense of powerlessness. Somehow, perhaps by writing in the various journals, or possibly in the containment that I've experienced in the past several years, or the meditative practices, or all of these things, I've learned to be my own witness; to see my self as being the Awareness rather than the myriad of emotional states in which I became fully immersed, whether it felt traumatic or joyful. I established with certainty for myself that emotional states come and go, are never constant and that they are all part of life.
I noticed yesterday that I was starting to feel swamped in the mundane, for example. Since my son is doing his final year of school, often a tedious affair, my job is to keep his spirits up, to encourage him to keep moving forward and from to time, I have the task of getting him to get on with his work. He doesn't like that but he does appreciate, after the fact, that I am prepared to talk the talk about English essays. All in all, the whole year has me working very hard on a multitude of projects, without the opportunity to get away, and from time to time I can feel sorry for myself. Another couple of loads of washing, only the 20,000th of my motherhood; another meal to cook; only the 49,000th of my motherhood.
Of course, the antedote to this is to recognize that it is not forever. It ends in November, only a few months away now. After that, no more school aged children! Or, since I have just read a most profound piece of writing from a woman who lost her baby to cot death, a piece of writing that takes us into the heart of the grief, I can rationalize that I haven't a thing to complain about. And, I don't!
This is the thing. I'm aware of the emotional states now. I'm aware of why they happen, I'm aware I'm in a particular emotional state (not necessarily ready to get out, however), and I'm aware that the state will end. That's the key thing - to be aware that it will end, because people who are going through traumatic times need to know this, that it will end and it will get better.
I used to think that it was impossible to get inside someone's traumatic mind. This theory was debunked for me when I read this piece of writing, as yet unpublished. This is the power of metaphor, I am finding. You need reference points - 'how dare the phone ring', or the sense of being a ghost on a ghost train, or the reaction to wind, or the desire to hear your little boy's voice. One wonders, how did she make it through that? But, she did, she did make it through.
Many years ago I went through a situation that was deeply stressful and hurtful to me. My mother, being on the other side of the world sent me a cutting of the poem, 'Footprints in the Sand'. You'll find it here: http://www.marypages.com/footprints.htm. For countless years I kept it on my desk, under my blotter, and it gave me a great deal of comfort; that sometimes we wonder if there is anyone who cares but, in fact, in retrospect, we realize that someone was actually carrying us through the ordeal the whole time.
Sometimes, that person is oneself. We're aware of our ordeal and we keep a watchful eye on ourselves. We endure and we, ultimately, thrive. In the same way during meditation I often have one thumb grasp the other because it is a small, discreet reminder to myself that I am my own best friend. I'm keeping a watchful, attentive and loving eye on myself.
Perhaps, it can be chalked up to 'maturity' - that sense of peace I feel right now. That too will change. All things change, all the time. I'm okay with that.
That concept of one's essence being simply awareness, separate from one's personality and actions is an interesting one. Took me a while to get my head around it after reading your piece, but I can see in a muddy sort of way the truth in it - I feel I am essentially the same as I have always been, though my beliefs and behaviors over time may have altered as the world has rubbed off on me. It's that feeling I suppose that one's soul doesn't age or change, just this vessel that we journey the world within.
ReplyDeleteI can see how it is deeply comforting and illuminating to view oneself in this way and to see all the challenges and ups and downs of life are really transient and external, like water flowing over a stone. As rocks on the river bed the running water may gradually shape us, but our essence remains what it always was.
I like that. Thank you for sharing.
Rollymo: You expressed the sentiment very well. It in no way advocates that you should not act when necessary, that you should be passive about life. For example, I read this on tumblr this morning: " “The art of living… is neither careless drifting on the one hand nor fearful clinging to the past on the other. It consists in being sensitive to each moment, in regarding it as utterly new and unique, in having the mind open and wholly receptive.”
ReplyDelete― Alan Watts”
— (via gangotree)
This week, I had to go to school and sort out an issue that I had raised at the beginning of the year, but nothing had been done. I still act when I have to.The idea of being the Awareness, not the thoughts I think, has been one that has taken time to grow within me, but now that it is part of me I find myself to be more settled. Meditation and yoga are opportunities to really bed the notion down as well. We also talk about sitting in awareness of one's "whole body". Or, "sitting with yourself". It is allowing those moments of stillness in life where there is a communion with Self. I like the 'observer' thought; that I am observing the thoughts that run through my mind. I sometimes notice that the thoughts are scattered and that's a signal to settle myself rather than to let the thoughts go unchecked. Although, many would say all emotional states are okay, I prefer not to go bogged down in negative thoughts unnecessarily.