The Ticking of the Clock

Visited my old friend again, the one who may be dying, the one who was a mentor to me. After a long drive and hopes of hearing deep words of wisdom from this man who was facing the end of his life, I found instead confusion and incoherent thoughts. Apparently his mind is going. Even more troubling was the display of his ego - thinking himself better than others, having judgments, anger at others, and a lack of compassion from someone I had come to expect to show me the way of love.

For some reason, I had expected this wise man to become more and more pure as he approached the end, seeing greater and greater truths, understanding life's mysteries in his final days. Instead, his human weaknesses come forth, from the failing of his body to the failing of his mind, and the wisdom it carried is less present than before.

Echart Tolle says we are not our mind. Many religions teach life after death or reincarnation. Yet when the mind is gone, what is left, but a shell of our former glory? There are only twisted dry leaves where there used to be a flower.

I am still time-bound in my view of life. I think everything must have a future purpose, and its presence in the current moment is not sufficient to justify its existence. I think I must accomplish something great in my life, as if being alive today is too trivial to count.

The clock ticks, and we become so accustomed to it that we only take note when it stops.

Comment posted by Gene
at 5/4/2006 8:00:00 PM
When I say that I think everything must have a future purpose, I don't mean that is what I believe - I mean that that is what I catch myself thinking sometimes. I discover that sometimes I act as if I believed that, when I actually don't. It's important to me to discover and stay aware of attitudes like this that tend to live underground instead of in the light of consciousness, so that I can choose my actions with awareness.

Comment posted by Anonymous
at 4/27/2006 9:55:00 AM
P.S. The "anonymous" comment that ends with "which I would do anyway" is from me, but I forgot to say my name at the end--Andy

Comment posted by Anonymous
at 4/27/2006 9:45:00 AM
I'm surprised to hear you say "I think everything must have a future purpose, and its presence in the current moment is not sufficient to justify its existence. I think I must accomplish something great in my life, as if being alive today is too trivial to count." Of course it's good to live our life taking into account the future, planning for the future, and to accomplish something great, but I would think a guy like you who brought us together for gatherings with discussions, massage, hugging, potluck, hot tub, and other activities, including just enjoying being together, would also believe in living in the moment, of savoring the joys of each present moment. After all, we are always in the present. Maybe I just didn't understand your comment that I quoted. As for an afterlife, I'm skeptical, believing that consciousness is a function of the living body, but to me it doesn't matter; all I can do about it is live this life the right way, which I would do anyway.

Connections and Words

Talking with a good friend the other night, I experienced a deepening of connection with him. It seemed that as we talked about the ephemeral whisps of feelings about life, connections - things that are so hard to describe with any precision - that each of us recognized in the words a similar experience, and there was precious shared experience between us from our words, so inadequate a carrier of such profound experience. An excitement and satisfaction arose from discovering a kindred spirit, one who seemed to have been where I had been, for at least part of the journey.

Two other people heard our conversaton and joined us. Soon, conjectures, theories and statistics replaced our time of touching each other's soul, and we competed for rightness, for having the stronger argument, for being able to quote sufficient experience to make our theory about our experience appear more valid.

This was a very different experience - one I had had many times throughout my life. There was a male energy, a sense of competition and testing each other's strengths and looking for the weaknesses in each other's arguments. But I found myself deeply missing what had been replaced - a moment of feeling like some of my deepest experiences were actually understood by and shared with another human being. The theories exercised the brain but did not touch the soul. Who I was or what I had experienced was no longer relevant to the conversation - what now mattered was constructing a more correct explanation of the universe.

I felt sad for the change, and for what had been lost. And I felt resentment over a change I had not chosen. Later, I thought to myself, should I have shared my resentment? Like my sadness, that would be exposing something personal about me that could be accepted or rejected. But in the current atmosphere of polemic discussion, I imagined it would spur a discussion of why resentment doesn't serve us, or an attempt to help me get rid of the resentment; and the humble experience of the churning of my stomach would be lost.

Yet I crave intimacy. I want someone to hear my experience of resentment, of feeling lost and unheard. I want someone to know of my great desire to connect as I had connected minutes before, of the amazing sense of coming home I had when the two of us not only had common experiences, but recognized those experiences in each other, and felt a bond as a result.

I left the conversation in confusion over my reactions and resentment. Old voices rose quickly to the surface - "What's wrong with me? Why can't I be more social? There I go, getting angry over nothing again. There I go, wanting to isolate instead of participate again. I'm not accepting everyone as they are. I'm not accepting the situation as it is. Maybe I don't belong here. Maybe I don't fit in." ...and on and on.

After a few hours of these voices, I began to step back and notice what I was experiencing again, rather than seeing the world through its lens, like water to a fish. I noticed I was saying and believing these things, instead of recalling what had actually happened. Immediately, the voices began to fall away, and I was left with sadness, and some frustration that I can't make people act in the way that would fulfill my needs better. My mind has not fully accepted that fact, and is still busily making plans on how I could explain this, and then they would see how wrong they had been and how right I was. And the moment I write this, the trap I am in is apparent to me, and I know I have to let go even more, let go of the demand that others meet my needs in the way I want them met.

Slowly, a sense of freedom builds, as I look over all that happened, and how each of us were just being who we are, and in a sense were each putting ourselves out there as we best knew how. But none of us were listening to the heart of the person spouting his theories - the heart saying, "Hear me. I want to be known and accepted, be part of you. I want you to hear the yearning behind my words, the reason I sit here at all. I only want to be right so that I will be accepted by you, so that I, too, will have that deep connection." Our communication of who we are and what we need often fails us, and into the void rushes the shadow voices, also wanting to be heard and accepted, just as our heart does. Does all of nature cry out for intimacy, or is it just we strange humans with our odd ways? We all do the best with the light that we have. I am left with sadness, but also enough taste of the huge potential we have, to get out of bed and face a new day.

Comment posted by Advait aka Tom
at 4/30/2006 5:06:00 PM
Hey Gene, Tom here. I finally got a moment to read thru this post more thouroghly. Your feelings and clarity on this came thru clearly for me. I really enjoy how you can so effectively translate the flow of your thoughts into the keyboard. Part of the magic you bring to your writings is that you can shed light on subtle and delicate inner dynamics that can easily get lost in the glare of verbal constructions. This is the same balance achieved by all good poets. 1+1=2 is very robust! Its hard to distort. But effective communication of inner feelings & experience is a real art. Each time you, I or others can illuminate & share our inner worlds, perhaps the more present we'll be when similar situations happen in the future. Thanks!

Comment posted by Anonymous
at 4/26/2006 12:17:00 PM
I believe that it is possible for rationale to take over in the process of connecting for the reason of impressing others how intellectual we can be. It is more like masturbation of the mind. It feels good to sound smart and interesting. Furthermore, it has been my experience that when I am truly listening to someone else I have no need to talk other than to ask for questions that allow for more of that awesome intimacy.

Comment posted by Anonymous
at 4/26/2006 4:17:00 AM
Gene,
I feel a pang of longing from your words. I think you put into words what I often feel - I have talked too much - I have lost that moment of deep touch with the other person. I find myself wanting to get it back by adding more words and I try to talk it all out - and the more I try to explain, the more clumsy I feel.
I think you said it beautifully, that when rationale tries to touch the heart, it loses something of its intimacy.

MAN WAKES UP HAPPY

AP Apr 24, Vienna - 55-year old Gene Long
woke up today happy.  Living in Vienna,
Virginia, he awoke in his bed this morning
around 7 AM and heard a bird singing
outside his window, and felt happy.

"The sun was shining in my window, and
then I heard this bird singing.  And I noticed
that I really felt content" he said.

The night before, Long had had a party for
friends he had made over the past 18 months
from conducting a gathering, and this was to
be the last gathering for a while.  He called
these people his "family of choice."

"Maybe it was a glow left over from having
all these wonderful friends of mine come
together", he said.  "Or maybe life is just
good, and I don't notice a lot of the time."

Born into an environment where he
experienced abuse and neglect, Long has
had bouts of depression in his adult life, but
he says they have gotten less and less over
time.  He attributes the change to "meds,
good friends in my life, and developing a
relationship with the spiritual." 

Eye witnesses at the event said that Long
looked particularly happy in the hot tub,
being stroked by those around him.

"Life is good," Long said, standing tall and
naked in the morning sunlight.  "I just feel
glad to be alive."

The Original Sin

Listening to the raspy voice of an old man on French radio today, I note again how the french seem to like to put realness in their media, raw life with its "is-ness", and how American media is so influenced by the polish of Hollywood.

Something struck me in pondering this daring to put one's naked self out there - that this realness is part of our purpose of life. To shed all the shadow we carry, all the parts of us we are ashamed to expose, that we have not embraced, that we have not dared admit to ourselves, let alone others - it is this shedding of shame of ourselves that causes us to be real, standing bold on the earth in crystal clarity.

Shame of who we are, of what we carry in our shadow, keeps us from allowing others to see us in our fullness, in our light and in our shadow. It is shame that separates us from God, ourselves, and our world. Perhaps this is the original sin - shame itself, the rejection of what is - the illusion that we have sinned, rather than sin itself.

Only when we have no need to hide will we be able to fully face each other.

My Life as Journey to God

This was a paper I was required to write for my ongoing training at Shalom Mountain, and I thought it might be of interest. I did *not* have a choice as to title! :-) - Gene

My life as journey to God

I would not have said my life was journing towards God a few years ago, as my conception of God was pretty unfavorable. Today, I see God more as life, as what is, as reality, as lack of denial, as awareness. And as such, my journey my entire life has been towards awareness and becoming more awake, towards the life within me, towards being able to tell the difference between reality and my fantasy.

I grew up fundamentalist, and God was a pretty nasty guy - vengeful, fearful, full of wrath. Suspiciously, God seemed awfully similar to my parents. God was not around very much when things were going well, or when I was discovering the world with delight - God seemed more designed to zap me when I strayed outside the invisible electric fence surrounding my little world - I never knew exactly where the line was, and the pain seemed arbitrary and unnecessarily harsh.

I disgarded that concept of God when I was 25, and accepted the only alternative I knew - that the world was mechanical, following the laws of physics, and our minds and emotions were simply extremely complex instances of machines, ultimately with no more meaning than a machine.

Eventually, I saw that certain experiences - a sense of morality, seeking for purpose and fulfillment, etc., - could never be explained by science, even if they were nothing but the results of complex machines - that our experience, no matter what the theory said, was that these things were real and had rules of their own. In short, I started believing in a spiritual world - a world with its characteristics that acted quite independently of the physical world and our ability to predict and infer results. Whether or not it was all just composed of atoms became irrelevant, because whether or not it was, I had to deal with experience, not theory.

Eventually, I started to embrace a new meaning of God. Looking at the universe as experience instead of cause and effect, I discovered I already had an emotional relationship with the universe - I liked some of the things I encountered, didn't like others, and resented some things the universe had given me. I was already emotionally involved. Whether or not there was a God didn't matter; the fact is that I had to deal with what I experienced, and I experienced an emotional relationship with the universe.

Today, I feel that whatever is within me that keeps me searching, seeking, that keeps drawing me towards something higher, that has something to do with God. It is the life force that has moved evolution to this point of conscious creatures slowly waking up and seeking their purpose, and it is the life force that keeps me awake, seeking, alive.

How this affects my work with others, including the Shalom work, is this - I see healing as primarily a coming out of denial, becoming aware of what is inside of us, and embracing not only who we are but also the life force within us, calling us to something higher. God is simply what is, the Great I Am, and becoming honest and aware is to come to know God.

I think everyone has deep within them this pull towards health, wholeness, connection, a sense of oneness, as well as a pull to a personal destiny, a place in the universe, a reason for their life. The answers do not lie in physics or science - indeed, their answers lead to despair, because they of necessity must conclude everything follows meaningless laws, and we are helpless puppets to those laws. But our experience is otherwise - our experience is that we desire something higher, and the desire itself is something that is difficult to explain, other than through the evolutionary growth of awareness, consciousness, and desire for purpose that we see in ourselves.

The Shalom process, and those like it, help a person come face to face with a part of themselves they may have denied, and gives them the opportunity to know that part of themselves in a strong atmosphere of love and acceptance, instead of the self-loathing that often accompanies exposing our shadow. The love allows them to embrace what they perhaps otherwise could never have embraced, and come to know themselves a bit better, come to know the reality about themselves a bit better, which is to say, come to know God better. And it's my experience that as each of us comes to know ourselves better, we discover we are more similar than disparate - which means we are tending towards one reality, rather than each finding things incomprehensible to another. The resulting sense of oneness, of belonging, causes us to want more, and fulfills some of that need for purpose and direction in our lives.

So my personal journey to re-embrace God is closely tied to the work I do - which I see as helping others to do the same.

Comment posted by Gene
at 4/17/2006 5:28:00 PM
That is still very fragile. It is something I hope I'm learning. I am learning a bit to go more with the flow, to dance, to let there be a give and take between reality and my fantasy of what could be. There is an intimacy there of a sort, I suppose.

There is a lot I have to accept that I don't like - someone said peace is choosing what already is. If God is truly what is, then the greatest commandment becomes "Thou shalt love what is with all thy heart, soul, mind, and strength" - something I have certainly not achieved yet.

Comment posted by Anonymous
at 4/17/2006 4:33:00 PM
Your journey touches something deep in me in my own journey. But something you said puzzles me; the old God of your past only visited to pass negative judgement and your new God seems to be simply 'what is'. You said you have feelings, but does your new God express feelings towards you,too? I want to know - do you sense a personal intimacy of give and take with 'what is'?

Comment posted by Gene
at 4/17/2006 8:12:00 AM
Much more than in the past, although there is still some resentment, especially towards the church that taught such doctrine to innocent children. Obviously, I still have healing to do.

Comment posted by Anonymous
at 4/17/2006 8:08:00 AM
Have you reconciled yourself with having been raised fundamentalist? Are you able to visit the territory with a compassionate heart when you work with people who are wrestling with these issues?

- Laurence

Lessons of Life

Lessons of life abound everywhere. I went to Outback by myself yesterday to enjoy a good steak. Next to me was a jolly table of around 10 people, seemingly having a lot more fun than I was.

I found myself getting annoyed with their laughter and camaraderie, and starting to find things to judge them for. Awareness kicked in, and the incongruity of being annoyed with people for being happy was too obvious to ignore. As I looked, I found their party atmosphere brought up old fundamentalist feelings of being more holy than people who "partied, and got drunk, and fell into depravity". I remember going to a rare formal dinner put on by my church, and when I expressed that I enjoyed it, she responded with something like, "Well, we shouldn't do this often" - implying to me that desiring having social fun was not a very righteous thing to do. "It is hard for the rich (i. e., those who indulge in pleasures) to enter the kingdom of heaven."

Once the old message became clear, it was obvious what I actually believed, as opposed to the unconscious feelings that had arisen. Today, I have the opportunity to join others in the celebration of life. I no longer have to be alone, holding up a banner of holiness - I no longer have to be separate from the world.

I have lived like a stranger on this earth. When I join others in their celebration, I discover that at last, I am home.

Radical Forgiveness

A few weeks ago, I sped-read a book called "Radical Forgiveness". It had some unique ideas, and I enjoyed it and set it aside.

But one idea keeps coming back to haunt me - the blasphemous suggestion that we never need to forgive anyone because no one has ever done us any wrong!

This is an absolute affront to my cherished state of being a victim, being sexually and physically abused as a child, being treated unfairly, not having everything I deserve from life, having people not love me the way they should.

I'm not sure I can really swallow the assertion; yet it keeps on haunting me. The implication is that I am powerful, that other people's actions are simply challenges for me to respond to, rather than a personal affront that I have to put up with. It has little to do with responsibility - we are all responsible for our own actions. It has everything to do with how I see myself in this world.

Over the years that I've thought about my childhood, my attitude towards my parents have slowly softened. It is not because I am avoiding feeling my anger, or because what they did is not so bad. It is because I have slowly seen their humanness. Being a parent myself, while I pride myself on not repeating the abuse I received, I also see how much I have not parented as I had hoped to, and that my son will also have his time of rage at his father, and I am humbled to see myself on both sides of the equasion.

In our new age community, we talk a lot about how we are all one, how the divine lives in us all, how we are angels but have forgotten these things. Yet we seem to make exceptions for certain people - our abusers, an out-of-favor lover, George Bush, the terrorists. I don't hear many people talking about being one with the divine in a suicide bomber. We don't want to acknowledge the bomber in ourselves, nor the hurt in the terrorist.

Is it possible there is nothing to forgive, that what we have experienced at the hands of others is ultimately there for us to learn from? A scary thought. I would need to take a lot more responsibility for my feelings if it were true.

Comment posted by Anonymous
at 4/17/2006 9:48:00 AM
Thanks, Gene, for posting this proposition and your thoughts about it.
Lots of thoughts and reactions popped up in me in response but I'll need
some more time to collect them.

For now, I'd only like to respond to Rich's conclusion that there are
"some glaring fundamental differences [between Islam and
Christianity]..." in their attitude towards forgiveness. The Bible,
too, teaches "an eye for an eye". Simply because it is taught in the
Old Testament, rather than the New one, does not make it any less a
central tenet of Christianity. And it's very much in operation at
present, in this country's reaction to the 9/11 attacks.

Thanks, Rich, for the rest of your reflections.

-- Brigitte

Comment posted by Anonymous
at 4/17/2006 9:47:00 AM
Or even being one with the divine in George Bush, heh? We don't want to ackowledge the George Bush in ourselves, nor the hurt in George Bush.

(I bring that up because of the palpable hatred against the man that I feel from the mainstream culture. I won't have this conversation in person because the extreme negativity I feel from people who hate him, actually viscerally hate him, is too intense and makes me physically uncomfortable and unsafe. It's weird becuase it's like some actual emanation from them. It makes me believe in auras, though I've never seen one.

Pasha

Comment posted by Anonymous
at 4/17/2006 9:47:00 AM
I've seen also this quote (on a bumper sticker) attributed to Gandhi:

An "eye for an eye" soon makes the whole world blind

My understanding of the whole "eye for an eye" concept is that Judaic law attempted to rein-in overzealous, retributive justice by attempting to limit the punishment to fit the crime. That is, it's not a prescription for revenge but rather a restraint. If my understanding is correct then I think it changes some things.

I've been intrigued by some of Tara Brach's stuff. Don't know it very well. I'm left with wondering about the concept of "boundaries". Do I get to set limits on what behavior I will tolerate and am I not somehow entitled to protect my own boundaries? And I ask this question both for me as an individual and a member of a larger society.

Pasha

Comment posted by Anonymous
at 4/17/2006 9:46:00 AM
I think forgiveness is one of the most important virtues a human can develop. For me it sprang from my Christian/Catholic upbringing and I am grateful for being exposed to this concept. I say concept because not all cultures value forgiveness.

Several years ago I visited the Islamic temple near Bailey's crossroads with a group of Unitarians. There were many similarities in what I saw at the temple and what I had seen in my birth religion, but more notable were some glaring fundamental differences. The imam talked about how he did NOT believe in "turning the other cheek" and NOT teach "love your enemies". I left with a feeling of despair rather than hope. As Ghandi said that if you believe in an eye for an eye, you will both end up blind. Hate has to stop somewhere. Someone has to see the divine in the other. Someone has be larger and greater in spirit. Someone has to forgive.

I don't think it is so much a matter of overcoming hate and the desire for revenge as arriving at the point where you truly understand and feel that revenge and hate are pointless. Hate will continue to eat at you, skewing your every thought and action until you become dysfunctional. Revenge will only lead to revenge.

I can see where the author might say in a detached, philosophical sort of way, there is nothing to forgive, assuming the other person was only trying to satisfy their own needs, not hurt the victim, but when you are the victim there are strong, perhaps overwhelming feelings. Forgiveness is your option as a victim to begin healing yourself. It has doesn’t have much to do with the perpetrator. They may not care about your or your forgiveness.

If this sounds a little like a sermon, I ask for forgiveness.

Rich

Comment posted by Anonymous
at 4/17/2006 9:44:00 AM
This is quite interesting Gene. It feels like true freedom the acknowledgement that we have the gift to choose what benefits us without becoming a slave to a "wrong doing" and carry those chains for the rest of our lives. Thanks for sharing this powerful message.

Jackie