Overcome. Resisted. Ignored. Repressed.

The first day of first grade was a big deal. My oldest brother was in the eighth grade. Middle brother was in fifth. A family in the neighborhood was my carpool. They came in a green 1954 Dodge. "Time to go to school, Buddy," my brothers said.

I realized my mother was still in her pajamas, and it suddenly swept over me like wildfire, "Momma--you're not going with me?"

My mom ran the preschool program at our YWCA. I'd been a pre-schooler forever. Loved it. Had bunches of kids and endless toys to play with five days a week. AND...my own wonderful mom was always there.

The ground fell out beneath me. I was stricken. Terrified.

"I'm not going!" I screamed.

"Of course you are. You'll be fine."

"I won't. I'm NOT going."

I remember my brothers saying, "Don't be such a sissy!" The oldest came to pick me up and carry me out to the green Dodge.

I grabbed the banister. Held on with all my strength. Cried, "No, don't, please let me stay with Momma!"

As you can imagine, I didn't when that argument. My fingers were pried free. I was carried to the car. I went to the first day of first grade with a cavernous sense of terror and betrayal whose roots still, after all these year, sometimes clutch at my heart.

For decades I've 'overcome' 'resisted' 'ignored' 'repressed' and 'walled off' the strong sensations that often pulse from the part of my brain where that experience is stored.

I posted yesterday a snippet of brain science that I find helpful--about how our limbic and other  lower brain processes naturally pulse with unpleasant feelings associated with the experience of fear, anger, anxiety etc. How that's just the way our bodies work. I find science about the way we're wired helpful and potentially freeing, and I work at remembering and remembering about this hard-wiring when my limbic system, etc., fire their warnings.

On the other hand, deep down in the neurons where memories are stored and carried, a terrified little boy is still clutching a banister.

So I also find it very helpful to be gentle with the memory. To be a wiser big brother to my fears than my brothers, at that time in their lives, we able to be with me. To be a better parent to my young terrified self than my mother was able, at that time in her life, to be at that moment in my life.

See clearly. Love dearly.

This is a wonderful and healing process--holding 'stuff' in compassionate awareness.

We can work with our neurons and with our stories both with clear attention and unshakable kindness.

"What's Wrong With Me?"

Do you ever think to yourself when you're having strong, persistent, unpleasant feelings, "What's wrong with me?" 

You're in good company if you do. 

What's wrong with us is being human.Our brains have evolved over millions of years and the 'wisdom of the ages' is carried there--from the base of our brain stems to the top of our prefrontal cortices--from the slyness of our lizard selves right up to the fullness of our better angels. 

Neuro-scientists are discovering more and more about how our brains work. I only retain (in my older brain) little bits of the details they report, though I regularly read what they write. And though I can't seem to master the facts, I do usually come away encouraged and even chuckling, because I do 'get' a 'something' that seems important and wise and full of grace. 

What follows are a few snippets from Rick Hansons's book, The Buddha's Brain. Just enough to keep us curious about why we experience such insistent impulses--and how mindfulness helps us understand and work more wisely with how our brains actually work.  

Your brain evolved from the bottom up and the inside out, along what is called the neuroaxis (Lewis and Todd 2007; Tucker, Derryberry, and Luv 2000), which is one way to conceptualize the organization of the brain. 

With equanimity, you see into the transient and imperfect nature of experience, and your aim is to remain disenchanted—free of the spells cast by pleasure and pain. In this—rather Buddhist—sense of the word, disenchanted, you are not disappointed or dissatisfied with life; you simply see through its apparent charms and alarms and are not knocked off center by either. Understanding and intention are both grounded in the prefrontal cortex. The intention to remain equanimous relies in particular on the anterior cingulate cortex (ACC) hub in the neuroaxis.

Equanimity also involves remaining aware of the passing stream without letting any bit of it hook you. This entails anterior cingulate oversight, especially in the beginning stages of equanimity. As equanimity deepens, meditators report an effortless continuity of mindfulness, which presumably correlates with reduced ACC activity and self-organizing stability in the neural substrates of awareness.

The limbic, HPAA, and sympathetic nervous systems react to each other in circular ways. For example, if something frightening occurs, your body will tend to become activated (e.g., increased heart rate, sweaty palms) and those bodily changes will be interpreted by the limbic system as evidence of a threat, which will trigger more fear reactions in a vicious cycle. Through activating the parasympathetic nervous system (PNS), you prevent the stress-response system from reacting to its own reactions. This is one reason why the training for equanimity in contemplative settings involves considerable relaxation and tranquility.

Over time, equanimity deepens into a profound inner stillness that is a defining characteristic of contemplative absorption (Brahm 2006). It also becomes increasingly woven into daily life, bringing great benefit. If you can break the link between feeling tones and craving—if you can be with the pleasant without chasing after it, with the unpleasant without resisting it, and with the neutral without ignoring it—then you have cut the chain of suffering, at least for a time. And that is an incredible blessing and freedom.

Waiting: First...Then...Next...

The lesson from the Hebrew scriptures today in the Revised Common Lectionary is familiar and much loved:

   Those who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength,

   they shall mount up with wings like eagles,

   they shall run and not be weary,

   they shall walk and not faint.

The possibility of being worn out and worn down and being renewed is a wonderful thought to work with. And the image of that eagle, riding an updraft, is iconic. 

We're told in this Isaiah passage that those who wait soar. 

Wait, as it's used here, is a verb. It's a perfect yin yang kind of verb. Patient and Active.

The Gospel for today tells about Jesus going home with Peter and Andrew. Healing their sick mother. Meeting the needs of all the neighbors who come seeking help. 

Then it shows how Jesus waits on God and is renewed.

   First...he sleeps.

   Then he gets up early.

   Next he walks out to a deserted place. 

   Then he converses with God. 

Out of this sacred time of 'waiting on God' comes discernment. Peter and Andrew, James and John find Jesus--tell him how many other of the town's people are already gathering, needing his wisdom, his prayers, his healing. 

Jesus says, "We need to move on. Other people have needs, too. It's crucial that the experience of God's love and concern gets spread widely." 

When we wait on the Lord, we can get clear guidance. The discernment Jesus sought was gut-wrenching. And clear. And renewing.

If we just wait for God passively, we can wait a very long time without discernment or renewing. But if we do it something like Jesus did, we might, in one way in another, catch an updraft every morning. 

Small Self Big Self False Self True Self

If any of you wants to go where I go, you must stop romancing your small self, face your greatest challenge, and follow me. If you try to hang on to your life, you will lose it. But if you let it go for my sake and for the sake of what the world needs to see and here, you will find your truest self.            --Jesus

The emptiness of self shows itself first in our lack of control over our supposedly fixed 'self.' Anyone who turns inward to meditation or prayer immediately encounters the ever-changing thought stream of mind, the endless ripples of moods and emotions that color each moment. These thought streams and emotions have a life of their own. In meditation we can shift our attention from the sense of everything being consciously tied together as 'my experience' to a more silent, less possessive observation. This silent observation allows us to see the first aspect of emptiness, called selflessness or egolessness.          --Jack Kornfield

‘It is easiest for God to find us when we are not there.'        --Angelus Silesius

Up Close. From a Distance

This image of the Mona Lisa is an installation at the North Carolina Museum of Art in Raleigh. The background image is big--something like 7ft x 7ft. The image in the foreground is created within a 2 inch diameter clear globe (with an 8 inch handle). When you look into the globe, Mona Lisa turns 'right-side-up.'

But what's really interesting is the medium of the background image. It's made of hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of ordinary spools of thread laid side by side and stacked one upon another.

From a distance, as you approach the area, you just see a big picture of an up-side-down Mona Lisa and wonder why somebody wanted to stand her on her head.

But as you get closer you see how pixelated she is. Closer still you discover that the pixels are nothing but spools of thread--the kind you could buy at Walmart. And you think, Good Lord, how did the artist manage to do this? Then, Why did the artist want to do this--what inspired him or her?

Then you start playing with the crystal globe-on-a-handle. You can lift it out of its base and move it around. The image moves around as you do; shows up in different surfaces of the glass. It seems a little like you're holding a magic wand.

Without knowing what the intent of the artist was, I began, perhaps, to experience what the artist intended. Wow--isn't this cool! A bunch of thread-spools taking on such a familiar and lovely shape. What a work of love--figuring out all those shades of thread and stacking all those spools!

We never see people as they are. And try as we do to create better images of ourselves, other people neither see us as we hope or as we truly are. We see through a glass, if not always darkly, at least incompletely.

We experience our selves incompletely, too. Our ideas of our selves and others around us is refracted through many different lenses.

Slowing down and taking an honest look at how we see before we jump to conclusions about what we see is a game changer.

Seeing how much trouble I go to to stack my spools in order for people to see the 'me' I want to project--makes me want to laugh and makes me want to cry.

It's like when Martha Stewart was fussing over the marzipan animals she was making to decorate her Thanksgiving turkey platter said, "Oh, it's no trouble at all." And her guest (Julia Child no less!) said, "Looks like a lot of trouble to me!"

Meditating, simply welcoming whatever is going on in the mind and body with honesty and kindness, tends to teach us to agree more with Julia than with Martha.

On the other hand, as we do begin to see how much trouble we've gone to most of our lives, putting our best foot forward, it's easier to smile along with everybody else--stacking all those spools, upside down, specially crafting the right kind of globe to turn us right-side-up again.

To look through the globe and appreciate the image! And then to move closer--and appreciate all the work!

And then to find a place nearer the middle where we're able to see both the image and the reality with honesty and compassion. It's still amazing--and from the right perspective, even beautiful.

What Feels Better Than Being Right?

Monday I wrote about what it was like for me to be vehemently challenged by an old friend from my Evangelical days about my present support for LBGT couples being able to have the same legal rights as straight folks.

In the blog I mentioned some of my initial feelings--anger, pride, self-righteousness--a quick desire to put this person in his place!

I also mentioned what can happen when we're willing to slow down, to very mindfully pause and notice all the ingredients of what's stewing in us--pause to let things settle so we can follow our deeper desires.

A wise person was asked--'What are the teachings of a lifetime?' The wise person answered, 'An appropriate response.'

Whether we're Muslim or Sufi or Jewish or Hindu or Buddhist or Christian, we have a commitment in common to embody love wisely and courageously. Embodying kindness and compassion wisely is an appropriate response.

Sometimes it's embodied forcefully. Most times our best response is more even.

Anyway, after 'sleeping on it' I wrote this back to my Evangelical friend:

Sean (not the real name),

The reason I'm in favor of gay couples being able to marry is a long, long story. Took me a long time to study and pray and listen my way to it.

My middle brother was gay. Having somebody you love and know really well gives you a steady reason to talk to God about something like this.

What I noticed over the years with my brother was how hard he tried to be straight. He was never openly gay. He married. Loved God and his family. But was also miserable deep down in his experience of hiding his true self. I knew he was not a 'deviant' in any way. No more sinful than me--in any way. He was just wired differently.

But (and you know well how this works) I also loved God and the scriptures. I could no more set scripture aside than I could set my love of my brother aside.

I remember reading a book in seminary, a collection of essays by Evangelical scholars about God, gays, and the Bible. I was struck that not one of the writers didn't agonize as he/she wrestled with the issue. I think all of them had friends or family that were gay or lesbian and so their writing wasn't just detached study but was also a real work of the soul.

I went about my search in a similar way. I've read, referenced wise commentary, and pondered every thing the Bible says about homosexuality...too much to put in a Facebook message!

But since I need to to pick a few bible passages that have been decisive for me...

The first is from Genesis: "The LORD God said, "It is not good for the man to be alone." Amen. What a wonderful blessing it is to have a life partner.

The second is from Galatians: "There is no longer Jew or Gentile, slave or free, male and female. For you are all one in Christ Jesus." I don't think this is an exhaustive list, Sean. I think this is the pattern of how God works--continually opening our hearts and actions where they've been closed.

The next is from Mark: "Jesus said, 'Come, follow me...'" The longer I live the more I realize how much faith it takes to follow Jesus. He's the living Covenant, you know? We can't follow scripture the same way we follow Jesus. When scripture gets carved into stone, it becomes Law not Gospel.

Faith has 2 'opposites.' One, as everybody knows, is doubt. The other is trickier...it's certainty.

For myself, Sean, faithfulness and trust keep moving me on to where, to the best of my ability to discern, Jesus is leading me to love in bigger and ever more generous ways.

I've come to know and love a lot of gay and lesbian Christian couples over the years. I see God working in them just like God works in you and me. Faithful, loving, worshiping, praying, vital, growing people.

The main thing that's different is how much they suffer from judgment, discrimination, even demonization. I believe God wants this to change.

This is really ironic if it's true, you know? That what needs to change is not homosexual orientation but heterosexual orientation. We heteros may need to get better oriented to following a living Gospel.

Anyway, this is a long story made short about why I'm in favor of LGBT couples having the same rights as straight folks.

Letting go means just what it says

Whenever we practice the Sacred Pause, we also bump right into the possibility of practicing Letting Go.

A lot of us know how helpful (and advisable) it is to let go. Nobody that I know is all that good at it. It's what some folks would call a 'growing edge' for us. I practice letting go enough to realize that I don't practice letting go enough! But I think it gets easier to practice as we get better at recognizing its potential and experimenting with the many, many opportunities we get to let go.

Jon Kabat-Zinn has a wise perspective on it--a wise perspective sometimes obscured by overlong sentences and complex syntax!

But it's easy enough to forgive Brother Jon when we stay with him long enough to discover what very insightful things he knows and is committed to passing on. I'm very grateful to him.

What follows is one short chapter from his book, Wherever You Go There You Are.

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The phrase “letting go” has to be high in the running for New Age cliché of the century. It is overused, abused daily. Yet it is such a powerful inward maneuver that it merits looking into, cliché or no. There is something vitally important to be learned from the practice of letting go.

Letting go means just what it says. It’s an invitation to cease clinging to anything—whether it be an idea, a thing, an event, a particular time, or view, or desire. It is a conscious decision to release with full acceptance into the stream of present moments as they are unfolding. To let go means to give up coercing, resisting, or struggling, in exchange for something more powerful and wholesome which comes out of allowing things to be as they are without getting caught up in your attraction to or rejection of them, in the intrinsic stickiness of wanting, of liking and disliking. It’s akin to letting your palm open to unhand something you have been holding on to.

But it’s not only the stickiness of our desires concerning outer events which catches us. Nor is it only a holding on with our hands. We hold on with our minds. We catch ourselves, get stuck ourselves, by holding, often desperately, to narrow views, to self-serving hopes and wishes. Letting go really refers to choosing to become transparent to the strong pull of our own likes and dislikes, and of the unawareness that draws us to cling to them. To be transparent requires that we allow fears and insecurities to play themselves out in the field of full awareness.

Letting go is only possible if we can bring awareness and acceptance to the nitty-gritty of just how stuck we can get, if we allow ourselves to recognize the lenses we slip so unconsciously between observer and that then filter and color, bend and shape our view. We can open in those sticky moments, especially if we are able to capture them in awareness and recognize it when we get caught up in either pursuing and clinging or condemning and rejecting in seeking our own gain.

Stillness, insight, and wisdom arise only when we can settle into being complete in this moment, without having to seek or hold on to or reject anything. This is a testable proposition. Try it out just for fun. See for yourself whether letting go when a part of you really wants to hold on doesn’t bring a deeper satisfaction than clinging.