An Integrated Life

Ever Integrating

I started this blog with the idea of exploring and learning how to create and live an integrated life.  I took the concept, loosely, from Carl Jung’s sense of integrating the various parts of the personality, envisioning a goal of “getting it all together!”

 

I have done plenty of integrating in my life, with positive results.  But I’m beginning to see the integrating as an ongoing process rather than a goal to be accomplished.  In fact, I am noticing that life, itself, is constant motion.  I am both part of this and aware of this at the same time. 

 

In order to manage such an amazing feat, we all create categories of entities, identities, and concepts of how they all relate in our experience.  Life becomes a cascading kaleidoscope of perceptions, shifting not only as the situation changes, but also as our beliefs about the situation change.

 

I admit, this is getting into rather abstract philosophy, but I find that when I come from this perspective (which is only occasionally, but meditation helps!), how I experience my life tends to be different.  I am less at the mercy of my reactions.

 

For example, now that I am taking care of my 91 year old father, I can easily slip into old patterns and responses.  When I find myself getting angry or frustrated or depressed, I can step out, just a little, to look at what is happening, how it mirrors the past, how the beliefs about myself and about him in relationship came from understandings I created long ago from the very limited perspective of the child.

 

This way,  I can see how his understanding and mine are based on interpretations of what is going on now and what was going on long ago.  Interpretations are not the reality.  Remembering this, I am free to explore and compare and find new interpretations.

 

Such is not to say I just make the anger go away in that moment.  But the greater my perspective becomes (which means what I think about who I am, who he is, and what our respective lives mean), the greater my sense of being grounded and sane in the present.  I can forgive him, and just as importantly, forgive myself.

Overwhelm - and a little help from my Higher Self

I sometimes go into periods of overwhelm, whether my internal thoughts and assumptions are shifting or external projects are piling up, or both.  At such times, my old  familiar patterns are to freeze, procrastinate, become (even more) forgetful, and/or escape into a juicy book or some comforting chocolate.

I’m moving away from lots of the unproductive responses (like telling myself how bad, silly or dysfunctional I am acting, and how I simply must snap out of it!)  I’m even finding some positive approaches that help!

Top of the list is to notice when I am judging, and remind myself I really don’t need or want to do that.  (I’ve become familiar enough with my judging habits by now to know that’s true.)

Once I can relax and stop defending me from myself, I can just get to work digging through what needs to be done.

And sometimes my Higher Self, unconscious mind, or whatever part of me seems to know far more than I do will step in with a bit of advice or encouragement.

In the midst of one such recent period of overwhelm (right after I started to write this, in fact), I had a dream in which I was a member of a very large, very excellent and famous orchestra.  We were on tour, stopped at one of the towns where we were to perform.  The conductor was rehearsing small groups of us at a time to make sure each of us was very sure of our part and how that fit in with all the parts around us.  She knew the overall piece thoroughly, and we were all totally confident that she would pull all these pieces together for the performance so long as we did our parts.

I’m taking all this as reassurance that if I focus on the parts I need to be doing right now, they will all come together in harmony to make beautiful music when the time comes.  I know I woke up feeling great!

What if we ARE the fruit of the tree?

I am sitting on my deck, soaking in the gorgeous sights, sounds, smells of the (more or less) natural world in my back yard.  It occurs to me that a lot has been written about just that, from carefully planned and maintained yards, gardens and parks, to not so controlled wilderness – mountain, forest, or sea.  Much of it romanticizes nature (I do that myself!), and there is an implicit distinction between the object of our attention, which we call “nature” and ourselves.

But we are “nature,” too.

When we really look closely at this natural world, we find beauty and ugliness, gentleness and brutality, peaceful cooperation and violence, that which inspires awe and that which evokes our horror.  And all degrees between the extremes.  Just like us.

If anything sets us apart, it’s this very ability to “see” and reflect on it all.  We assign meaning to everything!  It would seem to be our job.

So if this is our job, how would our evaluation turn out?  We have accomplished a lot (not all of it useful, some very destructive).  In fact, we seem to be sliding into some very serious dysfunction, based on that very mis-comprehension about our place in the order of things.

According to physicist David Bohm, this job of making meaning can be evaluated according to how coherent it is with the real situation.  Our insistence on believing in our separateness and difference from everything else is actually incoherent enough to be threatening our survival!

If I cut off my hand because it annoyed me, I would suffer pain, possible infection, maybe even bleed to death.  If I trashed my house and had no other option, I would probably not survive the elements.  Such actions would be incoherent, and I am smart enough to know this.  As a species, however, we’re not quite so smart.

Why don’t we get smarter?  There’s always a price for more smarts.  Animals suffer as much as we do, but at least they don’t worry about it in advance.  We lost that Eden when we ate of the fruit of the tree of knowledge.  What would we lose if we bit into the idea that we are one with everything?  Certainly our specialness.  Entitlement.  Rescue. 

But what might we gain (besides survival)?  Peace?  Freedom?  Equanimity?  Joy?  It just might be worth a try!

Blessings

The subject of blessing came up in conversation recently.  It’s a very ancient, powerful and beautiful spiritual practice.  It’s just not one I’ve thought about too much.  But I’m becoming ever more aware of how much we are affected by one another.  It’s not only a matter of what we say to each other, but of how we are together.  In fact, an interesting practice is to start watching how this plays out in every interaction, every day, from the grocery line, to the car, to family members.  Watch the energy that goes out, and watch the response to it – both in others and in yourself.

After a while, it becomes obvious that when the energy exchange is positive, life gets easier and happier for all concerned.  So why not go the extra mile and begin to bestow blessings?  They needn’t be overt, or even very big.  A genuine smile, a kind word, even good thoughts can make a difference.

So what, exactly, is a blessing?  One of my favorite authors, Rachel Naomi Remen wrote a book called My Grandfather’s Blessings.  Her grandfather, an Orthodox rabbi, also studied the Kabbalah, mystic teachings of Judaism.  He taught her that all things, all people contain sparks of the holy, and when encountering one of these, it is appropriate to acknowledge it by saying a blessing.

So a blessing is a recognition and an affirmation, not a thing in itself.  My earliest experience of the word was that every time one sneezed, everyone would say Bless You!  I was told this was to keep the soul from flying out of the body (presumably on that uncontrolled expulsion of breath!)  Here it would seem to be offered as a talisman. 

Looking deeper, though, any precursor to disease (especially to our ancestors) would bring to mind the vulnerability of life.  What better time to affirm that holy spark that keeps us going?

The more I think about how we are inextricably connected and how much we affect each other, the more I can see this blessing practice as not only useful, but essential to our well-being.  I’m committing to watching and listening for those holy sparks so I can recognize, acknowledge and affirm all I can!

Love the Inner Cry!

The feeling of longing, which I have so often tried to quiet with a glass of wine, piece of chocolate or a novel, is actually a healthy thing, I’ve come to realize.  It means I’m alive, and able to communicate to myself.  It’s like a baby letting us know something needs to happen by crying.  A baby that never cried might suffer pain, or get a bad diaper rash, or even become malnourished, and no one notice! 

Life is served by the voice that says, “Hey!  You need to take care of something here!”  Of course the challenge is to decipher the noise.  Baby’s needs are fairly simple to figure out.  (Though don’t ask a new mother about that!)

That inner cry may take years of investigation.  But there are clues.  When are the times it is quiet (from contentment, not fear)?  Mine is blissfully quiet whenever I’m in love.  It can be romantic love, or love for my kids, my grandkids, my friends, myself, my lilac or the peas lining up in the garden.

Being in love, loving sends all my focus on to the beloved (instead of my insecurities).  And suddenly (sound of magic wand), I’m so much bigger than I was. 
Love is expansive!

Being in love, I see the beauty everywhere. 
Love cuts through the crap, and celebrates the rest!

Love pulls me further from the tiny seed of conception, into relationship with another, with the world, with the universe!

So how do I go about “falling in love?”  No need.  It’s everywhere.  I just have to stop cutting myself off from loving.  It’s that simple.  (Just not easy.)

Some Assumptions About Fear

If I stop to just examine a particular fear sensation that’s in my body, I can see it as something separate, an experience, an expectation, a response linked to something by association.

I see this so clearly, yet it’s hard to hold, as if I don’t want to know that.  If, for any reason, the fear went away, I’d feel like a newborn – uncertain, unformed.  (You can be newborn at any age, you know, even when the body is already beginning to sense what death by deterioration might feel like!)

But what happens when the fear is tied to a response set up very early, at a pre-verbal stage?  I’ve always assumed (and I’m sure I’ve read these opinions) that pre-verbal/pre-memory experiences are not accessible to consciousness and therefore can’t be processed differently to create new responses.

But I’m beginning to notice assumptions and see them (just like shoulds) as indicators that questions are called for.  

• First assumption: that there is just one “consciousness” (also assumed to be that waking, conceptual, rational state we spend so much time with).  Is this true?  No way!  Just plain common sense supports this, as well as many psychologists.  I know I’m in a different state when I’m dreaming (occasionally with a foot in each door, as in the few times I realize I’m dreaming while doing it).  Then I’ve experienced the meditative state where I get a wordless kind of understanding.
• Another assumption: I cannot intentionally change what was created in a different state from the more usual, waking consciousness.  Not so true, either!  If the personality is able to navigate those states at all, it should be able to develop skills to do so deliberately, carrying memory and intention from one to another.

If I really stop to think about it, the sky’s the limit (or rather my beliefs are)!  And guess what? - the fear of losing the fear is just another fear! ;-)

Perfect! Who, me?

Hi, my name is Lynne and I am a perfectionist.  Is this an addiction?  I don’t know, but it’s awfully persistent!  Can it be deadly?  Absolutely!  (So I say, I will overcome this.  This is so not perfect!  I’ll just stop.)  Ha!  Here’s just one more (ineffective) attempt to be perfect.

I just read an article about finding that we’ve been setting limits to what we can achieve, whether it’s success or happiness.  If we just stop limiting ourselves, we can have what we want.  But then I thought of the other end of this, setting the bar too high to even get in the game.  Perfectionists are so good at this one.  I know.

So it looks like we really need to raise the limits while lowering the bar.  That creates much more room to move around.  But wait, aren't these both standards, wherever we manage to place them!  Is this the solution?

That’s when it occurred to me that when I’m really happiest, and when I’m really doing my best work, there are no standards.  (Nor do I even know what “best” means!)  There is only absorption in the task at hand (or, as in meditation, the non-task).  This may be that situation some have called being in the “flow.”

Perfectionism requires a constant self-consciousness, always checking in to see how I am doing.  The essential point, here, is that in this “flow” state my focus is on the doing – what, where, with whom.  My focus is not on me!

What has this to do with an integrated life?  Everything, since what I've just accomplished is an integration of my self and that self's living/doing.  Worries about performance can only take place on the fractured, non-integrated plane.

Integrating "Spiritual Intelligence"

I just came across a piece about “spiritual intelligence” and was reminded how essential it is NOT to relegate an awareness of the spiritual dimension into a separate box and put it on the shelf.

Thich Nhat Hanh has pointed out that reality consists of two dimensions, which he calls the ultimate and the historical.  These are very different, requiring different languaging, even.  But they are, nevertheless, the same reality! 

We approach them differently.  We open our minds to the awe of unanswerable questions.  We apply our skill and intelligence to worldly problem that must be solved.  But in truth, the transcendent mystery of life, itself, and the mundane task of changing a baby’s diaper both deal with the same reality.

These very different approaches with their different skills may develop at different rates.  There can be a high-tech wizard who never questions the meaning or value of what he or she is doing.  Or, for that matter, a highly developed spiritual seeker who is not too good at getting along in the world.   (I once saw a therapist who told me my spiritual and mental abilities were very high, I just needed work on the emotional piece.  Sigh.  Fortunately, I’ve been doing that and strengthening those muscles too!)

Living an integrated life means bringing these various parts of consciousness into sync as much as possible.  What aspect of your reality calls to you?  Would you benefit from taking some time to sit with questions of ultimate meaning?  Maybe go to a retreat?  Or is it time to look at your own emotional reactions, exploring the assumptions and beliefs that trigger them?  What about stretching your mind around some new and difficult concepts?

I find these areas, while different, can support one another.  Experiencing an expanded awareness helps loosen my tendency to judge so I can better explore the thoughts behind my emotions.  Learning new concepts and ideas both supports my spiritual practice and the process of self-understanding.  (It is all one, after all!)

Enlightenment

Enlightenment has become a buzz word.  I’m not sure what it means.  To some, it seems to refer to a state in which one has arrived, with all the answers, to live on in a state of bliss.  If this is possible, and if you have attained this, how wonderful! 

But such is not my path.  I seek to awaken—followed by moment-to-moment re-awakening.  It doesn’t take work, so much as constant attention.  (And attention, once you get the hang of it, is joy, not work.)  But, of course, habit pulls me back continually.  Compassion then saves me from myself!

The Buddha was not one for metaphysics.  He refused to speculate.  When asked what he had attained, he simply said, “I am awake.”  What happens when one is awake and paying attention does seem to be an ever-growing sense of understanding.  (I use the word, sense, here because understanding grows far beyond the conceptual.)

But, since I can never know what lies ahead, I can never know what I have yet to understand.  So how can I possibly ever know that I have reached any “ultimate” understanding?  I’m quite happy to just watch and see.

Reality as Process

The thing about change is that it is not about your being in a certain state, then change puts you into another state. This is a habit of thought. Thought puts reality into categories as "things" in order to understand and gain some power over these "things."

Reality IS change IS actually a process of ongoing potential, which we may or may not pursue in any given moment. And even the concept of a "given moment" is misleading, like pulling a note from a song - useful perhaps, but doesn't give you a sense of the song, itelf.

We tend to think we are born, grow into a "person" who has experiences which may cause some transformation, intentional or not, to the original, and then die. This is our most common myth of who we are. But it doesn't tell the real story, any more than separating those notes out from a song can tell us about the song.

So what is this "real" story? Can we know? Our very thinking is so structured according to the fragmentation/pieces model. But there have been insights which can begin to bring us a little closer to something different.

First, there is nothing about us that is separate. Even the body, easiest to objectify, is in constant motion, changing as cells die and new ones are born, from conception to death.

Second, as the cells come into being, grow, decay and die, the whole process is affected by and dependent on elements which are "separate" from the body (such as oxygen molecules, nutrients, micro-organisms, etc.) Can we really say where we begin and leave off, even just physically?

And once we move into the interior, intangible aspects of who we consider this "self" to be, boundaries become even fuzzier. Sure, I can't know what you are thinking, or experience what you are feeling. But so many "others" have influenced what it is I am thinking and feeling, never mind creating the very possibility of my existence! Thich Nhat Hanh created a word to express this concept: he says we "inter-are."

Why bother to understand and express this concept? My experience of my life gets easier and less stressful to the extent I can rest in a perspective that not only gives meaning to the whole, but also relieves the stress of feeling isolated, vulnerable and supposed to "fix" things.

(This is not to deny responsibility! Responsibility, after all, is really about the ability to respond to whatever is required in a situation - something I am far better able to do when I'm not stressed by focusing on too narrow a sense of self.)