Being human is no easy thing. We sense, quite rightly, our capacity to grow, to 'do better,' to 'become more' than we are now. And yet...?
And yet...trying to become the 'more' that we sense is possible can be so very, very frustrating. I'm very grateful for wise spiritual traditions that help us navigate this 'becoming more.' And I'm so grateful for the modern wisdom of biology and psychology that are doing such a good job showing us more and more precisely why this 'becomig more' is so hard.
Jonathan Haidt's The Happiness Hypothesis does a great job with this. As I read and re-read it, I often find myself thinking (and smiling) 'No wonder it's so hard!' This comes as a deep-felt recognition--a happy one.
Earlier this morning I read this:
"Because we can see only one little corner of the mind's vast operation, we are surpised when urges, wishes, and temptations emerge, seemingly from nowhere. We make pronouncements, vows, and resolutions, and then are surprised by our own powerlessness to carry them out. We sometimes fall into the view that we are fighting with our unconcious, or id, or our animal self. But really we are the whole thing."
Haidt's entire book is about how the mind works--and how learning how our minds work--and how to work with our minds instead of against them--is the path to happiness.
Whatever wisdom I've learned over the years stands up, does a little a dance and sings out, "Amen," reading his, "We are the whole thing." Our happiness, our peace, our deepest and most sustaining joy come from knowing 'we are the whole thing' and learning how to hold this 'whole thing' wisely. (So far, as far as I can tell, science does a better job than religion at describing this 'whole thing;' and religion--especially in its more contemplative traditions--does a better job training us to work with and embody this wholeness.)
As I often say on this blog, to see how our own minds work we need to observe them. Awareness practices like meditation and contemplative prayer are rich and well-tested ways--the best ways humans have yet found--to discover for ourselves what our minds are up to.
The practice is both simple and challenging. 'All' we have to do is take time to be still and respectifully notice the thoughts, feelings, and sensations that our minds and bodies are 'having.' That's it.
It's like God asks us, "Wanna see something cool?" And we say, "Sure."
Of course, the cool thing God wants us to see doesn't seem all that cool at first. Our minds are a mess! Plus--our attention span is sooooo short.
But (and this is pretty cool) it doesn't take long for our capacity to attend gets stronger. And that's the first step--seeing more and more of the raw material we have to work with... beginning to see this mess more clearly!
One of the first smiles we find in the ancient, sacred process comes from this wonderful and surprising appreciation: "No wonder it's so hard!" The way our brains work is simply that--the way they work.
A little later we begin to get a little more comfortable with the mess and begin to accept it more and say, "So, this is what 'I' contain."
Over time we also become more and more certain of how futile it is to try to get rid of what we contain. How ironic it is to try to deny what we contain. How transforming it is to stop fighting with what we contain. How freeing it is to begin to accept and own it: Yes--We are the whole thing!"
We waste a lot of energy and perpetuate untold pain by arguing with, denying, repressing, and resisting our 'whole' nature. Our 'selves' will always be a mixed bag. Yet they don't have to be a mixed blessing!
"Welcome and entertain them all!" says Rumi.
"You have prepared a table for me in the presence of my enemies," the psalmist says appreciatively to God.
"We are the whole thing," says the psychologist.
Wholeness, says I, is not our better selves all dressed up for the family portrait--it's the whole mess, each scruffy member welcome at the table, listened to, valued, and fed.
