Fear of Clarity (a repost inspired by Don Kern)

We are always the path, the trees, the sky, the beginning and end of each journey.

Art Chickering wrote that college students change--that they "become independent; but it is the independence of a hog on ice. He is on slippery new territory and without familiar footholds; he responds with wild thrashing or bewildered and anxious immobility...There is conspicuous lack of coordination and little observable progress in any direction. Autonomy, the independence of maturity, is quite different. It is secure and stable; coping behaviors are well coordinated to personal and social ends. This kind of maturity requires both emotional and instrumental independence, and recognition of one's interdependencies."

Abram Maslow, the remarkable humanistic psychologist also wrote about the fear of clarity: "If you plan to be less than you are capable of being, then I warn you that you'll be deeply unhappy for the rest of your life. You will be evading your own capacities, your own possibilities. Not only are we ambivalent about our own highest possibilities, we are also in a perpetual and I think universal--perhaps even necessary--conflict and ambivalence over these same highest possibilities in other people, and in human nature in general."

Enlightenment requires us to create space between the gravity of the illusory physical world and the opportunity to transcend into the infinity of each moment. We might strive to conceptualize ourselves as both cloud and sky. The cloud representing our innate ability to be all and the sky representing the infinity of our centeredness. Can any cloud completely disappear? Dissipate? Whether heavy with precipitation or virtually invisible in its light mist, the clouds are there...just as the sun rises each morning whether we can see it or not.

Clarity, however, can be intimidating. Fear or insecurity of our interdependence in the world, the contrast between our personal perceptions of abilities and the tasks handed to us, or the stark reality of our lives can each encourage us to maintain a life of status quo, mediocrity, and passivity.

The Buddha was said to have said, "An undeveloped mind leads to great harm." How will you develop your mind today? What awareness will you allow? What interdependence will you embrace? What lesson will you allow yourself to embrace?

Post spin class meditation

The week's meditation is on lovingkindness, the ability to experience love without attachment. Traditionally, lovingkindness evolves from first experiencing lovingkindness toward one's self. So, to feel respectful and appreciative of one's essence, actions, and spirit without feeling the need to control situations, others, or the future. Then, as that sense unfolds, one seeks lovingkindness toward others, first those close to us, then eventually toward those whom we find difficult or challenging--practicing lovingkindness toward enemies.

The meditation is:
May I be filled with lovingkindness
May I be well
May I be peaceful and at ease
May I be happy.

In the sweaty group solitude of spin class this morning I repeated the mediation over and over. But as I thought more deeply about it and added images to each statement, the meditation became:

May I fully appreciate all who are here and the instructor who is so admirably invested in this class; those friends who are here and share running and biking tips. May I not take casual friendships for granted.
May I be filled with vitality and energy; have strong muscles and appreciation for my abilities--and grateful that I can breathe...and brought plenty of water.
May I take in the luxury of this class and settle fully into the rhythm of hard physical work.
May I find humor in my life and not take my accomplishments too seriously or mistakes with too much self-deprication; may I be open to learning and always spontaneous.

The benefits of practicing lovingkindness are many, at least to me. This week has been filled with family illness, some difficult personal decisions, the seemingly always present problem of finding enough time to get all tasks completed, concern about friends in LA (Paula, John, Peter...are you all okay??); a guy who locker nears me and who has been noticeably absent for the past month appeared yesterday, gaunt with post-chemo emaciation...a cancer diagnosis less than a month old following a visit to a physician to find out about his recurring acid reflux, which is esophageal cancer...The list of problems could go on.

But in the midst of this I am reminded that this journey, as Kornfield says, "doesn't get better and better. It gets better and worse, and better and worse..." So, some good physical activity and a little meditation can't hurt.

Meditation for a healing friend

Develop a mind that is vast like the water, where experiences both pleasant and unpleasant can appear and disappear without conflict, struggle, or harm. Rest in a mind like vast water.

Buddha

When our body experiences pain, that pain cannot be partitioned off neatly. While pain is physical, and suffering, mental--any type of pain is holistic. Whether we have burned our fingers while cooking, or are healing from a major surgery, our mind, soul, social relationships, and mind intermingle striving to make sense of the pain--to give reason to a complex experience that transcends explanation. This meditation allows you to fully be in your experience, letting go of any search for reason or desire for an end to pain.

Breathe deeply. Be with your breath and embrace all the sensations within your being; accept your pain, fear, anger, and hope. Know that many of your friends and family experience your pain, although in ways different than you. Take a moment to expand your experience to include your imaginations of the hope, friendship, love, and support others wish for you. Slowly say the name of each family member or friend who you know is wishing you peace; thank them. As your experience expands, stay with your breath. As you breathe in, say, “this moment is mine, but I am not alone; I am bringing life to my experience.” As you breathe out, say, “I am allowing fear to move through and out of my body; I am learning from my experience.” Allow your breath to move as it does, whether that be easily or more labored; observe your breathing and give yourself permission to be fully in each moment.