It’s summer, the time when family members come to stay. I live in a town that is full of tourists all summer, and I’ve seen quite a few of these moments--in restaurants, on the street, in the park--when conflicts erupt between family members, and a perfect holiday appears to be ruined. I’ve also had several clients call me this summer, saying, “My mother-in-law is here for 2 weeks and I thought I’d be fine but I need help now!” These are the moments when when we feel trapped, cornered, by our own reactivity. We find ourselves behaving in ways that we never would have chosen.
One client, Claire, has been telling me about a summer visitor who was expressing viewpoints about different races and religions that were extremely judgmental. Claire found herself smiling on the outside, and boiling inside with anger, unable to respond for fear of what she would say. These excruciating moments, no matter now unwelcome, are the fertile ground for our own evolution and transformation. And usually, in a situation where we feel bound and trapped, our thinking has created a world of polarities or extremes. Claire was like someone caught between a rock and a hard place. Her only two alternatives seemed to be a kind of false, smiling acquiescence, or a fierce confrontation.
Both of these are extreme positions, based on a sense that this person is totally ‘other’ and separate from us. And if we look a little deeper, we’ll see that it’s not really ever the other person that is disturbing us-- it’s our own reactions. We can’t find a way to be ourselves with them, and we don’t know how to deal with all of the conflicting thoughts and feelings that are arising.
In the Radiant Mind course, there is a great exercise, in which I consciously spend some time with a person who is outside my comfort zone. No matter how liberal or tolerant I imagine myself to be, there are usually certain kinds of people that I avoid. It appears that I avoid them because of who they are, but what I am really avoiding is my own experience when I’m with them.
Whenever I do this exercise, I end up picking the rowdy street people in our town. And when I spend time with them, I get to see a whole stream of conditioning that sounds like this: “What’s the matter with you? What are you doing-you are wasting your life! Clean yourself up, and go get a job.” I hear these voices inside my head and they sound like my grandfather, not me.
All I can do is just open to everything that is arising in the field of my awareness, without pushing any of it away, without trying to change any of my thoughts and feelings. Sometimes the voices and the feelings get more intense. But if I can just hang in there, without getting upset about how uncomfortable it is, they start to fade away. And I’m left with a clear and simple sense that this person has nothing to do with any of my judgments, and they have a perfect right to be exactly as they are.
Marshall Rosenberg, the founder of non-violent communication, speaks about an experience he had in an Indian rickshaw, listening to a diatribe of hatred coming from one of the other passengers. He got so angry and so hurt by what this man was saying that he had to remind himself many times about the principles of non-violent communication. He just wanted to tell that person that everything they were thinking and saying was totally wrong. Until he realized that he was becoming just like his fellow passenger.
That’s what we overlook, whenever we get caught in our own points of view. As soon as I deny you the right to be the way you are, as soon as I believe that you really need to be different, I have fallen into a belief structure that is based on judgment, separation and violence.
When Claire and I were speaking about her visitor, I said, “When you are simply present, fully aware, not avoiding or judging, then a space opens up in which you are both allowed to be just as you are. And in that space, you’ll find a way to be with her beyond the two extremes of stifling your own response, or jumping down her throat.”
“What would that be?” she asked. “I just can’t imagine how I could respond to her in a good way.”
“You won’t find out by thinking about it,” I said. “You’ll find out by allowing yourself to be fully present, exactly as you are, without trying to change any part of your own moment to moment experience.”
“Okay,” she said, “ but just give me an idea of another possible way to be here.”
“Well, “ I said, “You could listen to her, and then say, “I’m hearing that you have lots of strong viewpoints about certain kinds of people. I imagine you must have had some powerful experiences to support what you feel about these people. So these views are very real to you--I understand this. And yet I have dear friends who fit in these categories. How is it that we have such different experience with the very same people? Have you ever wondered about this?”
“Well that’s amazing” said Claire. “I would never have thought of saying anything like that. Why not? Why in all these years of dealing with this person, did I never think of saying such a thing?”
“Perhaps it’s because you really believe that she is completely separate from you.” I said. “That perception kind of jams up our natural wisdom and compassion. First you feel that she should not be the way she is, and then you realize that you’re furious with her, so you judge yourself. And then there’s no room for any kind of dialogue. We can speak with anyone, as long as we don’t believe they are a fixed and separate reality from who we are. If we let go of that viewpoint, we start to see how we are impacting each other in every moment, and we can take responsibility for that.”
“So, said Claire, “If I let someone know that I’ve really heard them, that will change the whole way they are experiencing me?”
“Yes, and to really hear or receive someone has nothing to do with agreeing with them. Agreement is highly overrated. We think that’s what we need, but often, we just need to be fully received.”
“Well that’s great,” said Claire, “but to be perfectly honest, I don’t think I am really ready to listen to this woman in that way. I wish I was, but when I hear her speaking about people with such a profound lack of love, I just feel angry and miserable.”
“That’s okay too,” I replied, “because we can only proceed from wherever we are.”
“Then what do I do?” asked Claire.
“You can just tell her the truth--that you wish you could respond to her in some other way, but so far, that’s beyond your capacity. Speaking directly from the truth of our own experience, without judging, frees up so much space: “Whenever I listen to you I get caught in a lot of suffering. So in order to take care of myself, I’m going to leave whenever you express these particular points of view.”
“Oh yes,” said Claire, that I could do. And it’s not telling her that she has to be different, it’s just taking good care of myself. What a relief.”
The kind of relief Claire discovered in that moment is so simple, and it’s instantly available to all of us, as soon as we are willing to allow everything to be the way it is. It’s like the lion’s roar that Chogyam Trungpa speaks about-- the fearlessness that comes when we begin to understand that every situation is workable.
with love,
Shayla
