Sometimes staying present and in the moment is less attractive to me than, well, emotionally skipping out of town. I do this in a myriad of ways, from day-dreaming, to having expectations that are not particularly well-founded in reality, to simply avoiding things that need to be done, like paying bills or doing the laundry. Sometimes, I just go on autopilot and wake up one day realizing the two-year old Diana is driving the bus. What?!? How did that happen?
The two-year old me is really cute, if I do say so myself. She has a knack for fun, loves people, and is highly entertaining. But whatever you do, do not let her drive the bus.
I'm learning about certain survival techniques that I developed early in my life, most of which were geared around ensuring an ongoing connection with the essential care-giver in my life, my mother. I've written some about this before. Unfortunately, because of her own depression and general personality, she checked out emotionally by the time I turned two and my brother was four. For a two year old, so my therapist says, this is a terrifying turn of events. Mothers are supposed to create a safe haven for their children, and the children need to feel that all is well. This was missing in my experience.
So I spent a great deal of my formative years inventing only marginally successful ways of staying in connection with my mother. One of the most vivid memories I have took place when I was around four or five, by the time my brother was off to kindergarten and I was left at home, alone, with my mother.
As if it were yesterday, I can remember lunches with mom where she would say nothing, not look at me, just sit there passively and with a vacant stare. This panicked me -- I actually can feel the same physical sensations as I write this -- to the point where I had to employ some strategy to bring her back. Usually this involved asking her tons of questions, about her childhood, about what her wedding was like, about whatever. Anything to get her connect with me and give more than a few monosyllabic responses.
The older I got, the more sophisticated the schemes. Mind you, I was too young to know what I was doing, but I had to do something or else I felt like I was going to die. I made up skits with elaborate costumes to entertain my mother. I would share earnest and heartfelt feelings I had with her -- which made her uncomfortable and so she would make jokes about my sincerity. When I was sick, I tried desperately to get her to lay a cool hand on my forehead, which she would do for maybe 5 seconds, and then say "That's enough -- I have laundry to do."
I kept thinking, "if I could just find the key to unlocking the mystery of my mother, a cascade of love and understanding would pour out on me, and I would know everything is ok."
Well guess what: I never found it, this key. But that didn't keep me from trying.
In fact, I applied that desperation for connection with many adult role models in my life, from teachers to other friends' parents to the au pair we had live with us for two years. As an example I fantasized before going to sleep at night that I would protect a beloved teacher from a criminal with a gun, myself being shot in the process. I imagined, over and over, how this teacher would be so indebted to me that she would forever show up in my life as the mother I always wanted.
The skills I developed to defeat my inner desperation and longing were great...as long as I was under the age of 18. As an adult -- not so much. But these survival mechanisms became so automatic that I had no idea they were operating with me, especially in times of panic or fear. Even now I am trying to unpack them, understand their role in my life, appreciate them for how they allowed me to survive, and let go of them.
Easier said than done.
Lately I have been chanting to be more present in my own life, to show up for myself. I had an experience recently that made me realize just how much, in times of stress, I can abandon myself, the adult part of me. I check out. Then, no one is left to drive the bus but the two year old. I go unconscious, and the two year old, driven by fear, takes over.
I began to have an inkling that something was amiss because I had an emotional meltdown over something relatively trivial last weekend. I went down this crazy-assed spiral into a very black abyss, from which I thought I would never recover. It was insane -- part of me was imploding, and yet another part of me was watching it all happen. And in that moment, I felt like there was absolutely nothing I could do about it. The 50-year old Diana awoke from the back seat of the bus to find it being driven by a two year old. Holy SHIT.
The reason this is all happening is because....well, I don't really know, but I DO know that I have been doing my Buddhist chanting a lot lately to root out the causes of my unhappiness. I guess maybe it's time to be the adult driving the bus 100% of the time. I'm not denying that the two year old doesn't exist, or doesn't need to be cared for at times, but really, I need to be driving ALL the time.
The other day, I put a card on my altar that says:
Get real and
LET GO:
--of expectation
--of wishful thinking
--of fantasy
--of false attachments
I need to let go of these two year old ways of being because they aren't serving me anymore. Because they are completely unconscious, they cause me untold pain and suffering. Even though being in reality and always in charge can be painful too, it's not an "I'm gonna DIE!" kind of suffering. It's the suffering human beings live with in the world.
Several things have been so encouraging to me on this quest: for one, chanting so much has really elevated my frame of mind. I am learning to appreciate the incredible effort of the two year old self to ensure I survived, rather than despair that I'm learning these difficult things about myself at the age of 50. The two year old did a remarkably good job, and she can go back to being a kid now.
I also have been reading some Buddhist study material about the idea of "Myo" of Nam Myoho Renge Kyo, the name of the Mystic Law at work in the world. Daisaku Ikeda encourages practitioners to "...Open the way with the wisdom to perceive the essential truth amid changing circumstances." I interpret this to mean, open my life to the wisdom that no matter what happens, know that I am already a Buddha, that I am already complete. The painful realizations about myself are not who I ultimately am. I am not my pain. I have done nothing wrong. I am only human. And being human is the only way to manifest the Buddha wisdom already within me.
Showing posts with label Nichiren. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Nichiren. Show all posts
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Saturday, August 1, 2009
What have YOU "bought" lately?
When I was about 3 years old, I liked to run around to various neighbors' houses to chat with whomever would listen. Yes, I have been a social butterfly since I was quite young! I loved-loved-loved people (still do) and nothing made me happier than climbing up into old Wick Suiter's (yes, that's a real name) lap and talking talking talking.
However, my mother did not take kindly to this, thinking bad thoughts all the time about what would become of a little girl who was so extroverted. At the same time, my brother, a natural introvert, was so nervous that he licked his lips obsessively to the point he looked like he was wearing clown lips, they were so raw. Our mother also did not take kindly to THAT, considering that boys are supposed to be naturally adventurous and participate in all sorts of social activities with other boys. Totally NOT my brother.
So on the one hand, my mother did everything to restrain me from my natural tendency towards openness, while she actively pushed my brother out of his natural tendency towards shyness. I was forbidden to interact with certain people (a habit that continued in subtle and not-so-subtle ways throughout grade school and high school), and my brother was pushed into all sorts of boy-like activities, including the cub scouts, chess competitions, and science fairs.
Years later, I asked mom why she felt the need to be so restrictive towards me, and her response, I kid you not, was this: "We were concerned that you might become a danger to self and society."
In the last few weeks, I have come to the realization that at some level, I have "bought" this view -- that somehow I am potentially a danger to self and society. It has not been particularly conscious, but it's there, like an underground stream, weaving its way through thoughts, actions, words -- through my BEING.
At some level I have believed that my very being is potentially dangerous. Now, on the surface, I don't feel that way at all, and in fact I am still the same open, extroverted people-lover I always was [that's the problem with trying to force people into being things they are not -- it doesn't work. My brother is still an introvert, too].
I suppose at some level, it's true that my being COULD be dangerous -- we all have the potential to be destructive, or mean, or whatever. But this has been the operative equation for my entire life, it seems -- that I have to be vigilant in ensuring I don't wreak havoc on the world.
This, intellectually, seems absolutely ridiculous. As a Buddhist, I know that everyone has the potential for good or for evil -- popularly expressed as one's fundamental darkness or fundamental enlightenment. But I have limited myself by trying to restrain my fundamental darkness, rather than by nurturing my fundamental enlightenment. In short, I have subconsciously believed that my power for bad is far more potent than my power for good.
One way this belief has manifested in my life is in how I temper my dreams and goals. This realization only came to me last week, after a particularly fruitful chanting session. It dawned on my that I have a habit of tempering my dreams and goals by what I perceive the outcome might be -- that is, what NEGATIVE outcome it will bring to others. I see things in a win-lose dynamic, that if I gain something, it by definition means someone else must lose. I see these words in the preceding sentence and think, how silly! But that's really how my mind works.
My quest is to overcome this habit, and see that if I REALLY trust my Buddhanature's propensity for good, I can let go of the need to restrain myself at all costs. When I chant Nam Myoho Renge Kyo, the world of Buddhahood is immediately accessed (regardless of whether or not I feel it), and I can trust the outcome. Faith in this means I can allow the good to emerge, and not expend so much energy on restraining the bad.
Is there anything you have "bought" lately?
However, my mother did not take kindly to this, thinking bad thoughts all the time about what would become of a little girl who was so extroverted. At the same time, my brother, a natural introvert, was so nervous that he licked his lips obsessively to the point he looked like he was wearing clown lips, they were so raw. Our mother also did not take kindly to THAT, considering that boys are supposed to be naturally adventurous and participate in all sorts of social activities with other boys. Totally NOT my brother.
So on the one hand, my mother did everything to restrain me from my natural tendency towards openness, while she actively pushed my brother out of his natural tendency towards shyness. I was forbidden to interact with certain people (a habit that continued in subtle and not-so-subtle ways throughout grade school and high school), and my brother was pushed into all sorts of boy-like activities, including the cub scouts, chess competitions, and science fairs.
Years later, I asked mom why she felt the need to be so restrictive towards me, and her response, I kid you not, was this: "We were concerned that you might become a danger to self and society."
In the last few weeks, I have come to the realization that at some level, I have "bought" this view -- that somehow I am potentially a danger to self and society. It has not been particularly conscious, but it's there, like an underground stream, weaving its way through thoughts, actions, words -- through my BEING.
At some level I have believed that my very being is potentially dangerous. Now, on the surface, I don't feel that way at all, and in fact I am still the same open, extroverted people-lover I always was [that's the problem with trying to force people into being things they are not -- it doesn't work. My brother is still an introvert, too].
I suppose at some level, it's true that my being COULD be dangerous -- we all have the potential to be destructive, or mean, or whatever. But this has been the operative equation for my entire life, it seems -- that I have to be vigilant in ensuring I don't wreak havoc on the world.
This, intellectually, seems absolutely ridiculous. As a Buddhist, I know that everyone has the potential for good or for evil -- popularly expressed as one's fundamental darkness or fundamental enlightenment. But I have limited myself by trying to restrain my fundamental darkness, rather than by nurturing my fundamental enlightenment. In short, I have subconsciously believed that my power for bad is far more potent than my power for good.
One way this belief has manifested in my life is in how I temper my dreams and goals. This realization only came to me last week, after a particularly fruitful chanting session. It dawned on my that I have a habit of tempering my dreams and goals by what I perceive the outcome might be -- that is, what NEGATIVE outcome it will bring to others. I see things in a win-lose dynamic, that if I gain something, it by definition means someone else must lose. I see these words in the preceding sentence and think, how silly! But that's really how my mind works.
My quest is to overcome this habit, and see that if I REALLY trust my Buddhanature's propensity for good, I can let go of the need to restrain myself at all costs. When I chant Nam Myoho Renge Kyo, the world of Buddhahood is immediately accessed (regardless of whether or not I feel it), and I can trust the outcome. Faith in this means I can allow the good to emerge, and not expend so much energy on restraining the bad.
Is there anything you have "bought" lately?
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