First read several decades ago in Richard Bach's "Illusions, The Adventures of a Reluctant Messiah", this aphorism has since been in my mind as unforgettable….it busts me on my 'personal self-importance' regularly, consistently, constantly. Take 'teaching yoga', for instance. Remember how a couple of weeks ago a good portion of these pages were devoted to recounting my experience of substitute teaching a couple yoga classes? And how that experience opened up a new vision of myself for me? Well, this week I am writing these pages while simultaneously experiencing a pulled hamstring. Turns out that by suggesting to my newly met Los Angeles yoga teacher-friend 'Hey, lets to some yoga together' (in the Escondido park we were at that moment enjoying [after first visiting Deer Park Monastery]) it was time for me to discover that there is a LOT I still needed to learn about Yoga….
Suffice it to say I was immediately humbled by my new friend's deep technical mastery, and quickly realized my own supposed mastery had only been a beginners fantasy. Gratefully, I did recognize the opportunity to learn at a new depth, and thus attempted find a new bar for myself. Obviously, to pull a hamstring, I broke the 'don't go into pain' rule and I 'overdid it'. I just had not realized how much I had been unconsciously cheating in the asanas, but as I was coached into increasing my attempts at historically correct form, boy, did my body feel the difference…
Back in Yuma the next day at my regular yoga class, I listened ever so much more carefully to my excellent teacher. And as a result of just my improved listening, my teacher led the best class I ever remember. (That's true, but it's also a joke…). You see, I had shifted… I suddenly knew I have so much more to learn. I suddenly knew there was nothing gained in trying to look good in any way… thus, this doing yoga is now totally only about me working with (and on) myself from exactly where I am. And the essence of that work? Simple. To 'get over myself' more and more completely. :-)
Switching tracks….There was a brief silent screaming accusatory moment that exploded in my life last Tuesday morning…. a very highly charged popping ripping of the veils, so to speak. It was one of those moments that stretches the glue between mother and son---a nothingness of illusions really-- all derived from the fact that an unknown-to-her woman-friend of mine had spent the previous night as my guest. And, as her late eighties-something 'Mom's mind' had decided that some hanky-panky must be going on, she was more than a little upset because she's told me I can't bring women here 'for sex'. It's against her religion et al. I can see now how that upset encapsulated and made visible the subtle tension that has been between my mother and I ever since I ended my virginity as a teenager and the all hell that broke loose back then about it….
But before saying more, it is first necessary to create the situation and the characters.
As with painting a picture (where you must always start with the background) in the farthest background of this contextual picture is our historical western WASP culture of sexual inhibitions and mores which I was born into and which have been passed down by most of us so born without re-examination from generation to generation as 'the truth'…. literally as 'God's Truth'. Refocusing to the increasingly particular, the next layer to become visible characters are my parents, who were products of the aforementioned WASP culture. Then there is me, the beloved son who was rebelliously non-accepting of the programing of my well-meaning parents, and probably traumatizing of them occasionally as well. Then there is the network of my associations with other people, who provide additional dramatic content…
So… what happened is simple… an old friend (let's call her 'Jayne') phoned one day last week with a request for assistance. Basically, it was: since I am right now living with my mother in a town next to the Mexican border, would it be ok if she parked her car at our house for a week while she went into Mexico? Fine with me, but I'll need to ask Mom--I told her. So I put the phone into speakerphone mode, and go introduce Jayne to Mom. After explaining the situation, and after some questions by Mom being answered, permission is obtained.
After the call is disconnected, mother asks me a lot more questions though. She's not just being curious… she's something else… she's insecure. I see she needs to feel more comfortable with what she has just agreed to--- after all, it is a sudden unexpected change in the routine of her existence these days. My explanations of who Jayne was and how I had met her a couple decades ago finally seemed to have re-created the peace, and so we waited for her arrival, which was to be 'in a day or two'. When the phone call that she was near came in the early evening I quickly realized I would be hosting overnight, which hadn't originally be discussed--- but would now be appropriate. When I let Mom know that, I could see it created questions in her, but I let it be, choosing to wait and see how she responded to Jayne in person.
When Jayne drove up in white robes and got out of her car bare footed (historically the traditional garb of 'the Christ family' when 'in the wind in faith') I chuckled… this was going to be interesting…. and it was… more than I expected. For a brief time, it was suddenly like 'the saint inside my mother' activated as she met Jayne, who was lit up and all smiles and love for my mom. It was a moment of grace… and a great gift to me. My normally somewhat stoic mom disappeared and a brand new angelic mom took her place. Her smiles to Jayne were truly filled with peace and inner happiness. Wow, what an unexpected shift. It briefly took me outside of the box I've been seeing my mom through...(that would be progress, yes?)
Later, I put Jayne up in the bed in my mobile art studio truck, and I slept in my office on my mat. We met at the wash house in the morning to get ready for the trip to the border, and had a bunch of animated conversation, which I guess Mom could half-hear from inside her house. Jayne went out to her car to pack up her backpack, and when I noticed Mom's door was open, I called out a good morning to her. The energy darkness of her response was enough for me to immediately know she was suffering, and I went to her.
She was shaking with anger. She was sure I had… you know… been the lusty teenager that I once used to be… again. I just looked at her and spoke straight. "Mom, what you are making up in not true. Jayne slept in my truck, I slept in the office trailer. Nothing happened. Mom, nothing happened." Mom started to weep, biting her lip, barely able to get out the words… "But I know you…". "No, Mom, you don't. I'm not the kid I once was… I'm not the person you think I am". Mom began to let that in… she was visibly relieved…began to calm down, and the moment passed.
There were some quick wins in this for me. Even though a part of me was hooked a bit, I was able to listen to my guidance whisper and I didn't gossip about what had just happened with Jayne in order to discharge the hook. That was a consciously chosen gift to give-- both to Mom and Jayne. So when they said goodbye, Jayne was just herself, loving my Mom and unaware that Mom had been projecting on her and me. And I in that simple little action of not gossiping have been recognizing I have somehow forgiven my Mom a bit more (of our karmic debt to each other). Later, thinking about it, a compassionate understanding arose. I realized that my Mom's head really is dysfunctional and crazy when it comes to understanding what sex is… She's lived her whole life inside a particularly moralistic religious box about it, and doesn't know that other much healthier views are even available. I saw my heart desired to somehow help her… maybe find a therapist for her to have some sessions with, for instance. But, whether or not she would ever agree to that or not, for me, the important thing is I got a bit more free of the mom/son Briar Rabbit tarbaby karma I see I've been struck in. I saw that her stuff was her stuff. I didn't take her stuff on as mine this time. Progress again. :-)
Going to Deer Park Monastery was a sweet adventure, a conscious creation in meeting a person I have been in communication with for a while, but had not met. I'm not reporting on that yet, just that that's what got me there. While there, we did the program… meaning we arrived in time to sit for nearly two hours in a chilly hall watching a video of the Zen master Thich Nhat Hanh speak about living kindly and consciously. He spoke in Vietnamese, and we had to wear headphones to listen to a local monk (poorly) translate. There was a lot of hard to describe quick-footed cultural adjustments to get into the space, which was good practice in being nobody. There followed a silent walking meditation, then a fairly extended semiformal sharing circle, and then, the climax of the visitors day… an 'informal' lunch. Except, it wasn't. It was as formal as a tea ceremony. With blessings and prayers and sitting sitting waiting waiting, until finally when it didn't matter anymore, you ate. But, ONLY ate. NO talking.
So, it was 'an experience'. I've been ruminating on it since. Why? Because it was SOOOOooooo sober. Something inside me was saying 'not for me' to me. Hummmm…another 'noticing of my resistance'.... Then, just this morning I noticed a FB post by a 'friend' I have never met saying she/her band was 'number 1 on a local Hawaiian internet music site… and there was a video link. I decided to see it. Why? To see who this always posting gushy blissy singer was, I guess. Well, it was the opposite of the Zen soberness… this was a pastoral flower-power smiley love love love presentation of wavy-armed undulating female butterfly beautifulness (with a token guy in one brief scene). I didn't watch it all the way through. Why? Because even though in the past I would have certainly wished to be the token guy, now my hearing was another 'not for me' again. Notice... tell the truth...notice... tell the truth. (The Practice :-)
The thing that I get to look at out of noticing my responses is the opportunity to self-answer the question "Am I judging, or am I discerning?" I usually see the true answer is I was doing both. First, to the degree my 'ego/I' was 'at home', my preprogrammed judgments arose. I liked or I didn't like, both...according to my ego/I's desires. But then, as I notice those judgments, I work with myself and them. I meditate (if you will) on them, in order to actually see the sources of them. Remember the Zen teaching I have several times quoted: "To set up what you like against what you dislike is the disease of the mind"? Just as I discovered I am not all that advanced in yoga, and the telling of the truth about that opens the doors to growing newly…. so same/same, recognizing that I have a mind still susceptible to judging opens the door to working with myself that way too. This is exactly why Werner taught us that 'the beginning of mastery is always the telling of the truth'. Because you CAN start (for the 10,000th time, if necessary) again, once you have established the truth of where you actually are.
In relation to the examples about the monastery and flower-power, what resulted in me from my being straight and looking at my reactions was that a 'space of allowing' was created. And in that allowing, I could see much more clearly. For things are never black or white…yes?… there is always a gift being given, if the judging mind is set aside. Obviously, while Zen is sober, those who practice it find great value there, just as those who choose tropical bliss beautifulness find great value there. Allowing allows all that. But most importantly, allowing others allows each of us to allow ourselves to choose our own happiness too. Whatever that may look like...(for me, somewhere in-between?). Thus the journey summated is: just 'keep breathing, and keep noticing'.... :-)
Right now I am in possession of a borrowed little booklet called "The Messiah's Handbook", also by Richard Bach. I've opened it several times lately to this:
"Your highest right knows all futures. As you listen to its whisper, you'll find that the prize ahead is your own greatest happiness."
May we all 'make it so'... so that we can hear that whisper.
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