But there’s no “just let go.” We usually can’t do that. It would be wonderful if, when a hurtful thought arises, we were aware enough to “just” say “bye bye now,” and we kicked it out. Whoopee! It might be that simple for some of us; but usually, when we kick it, it kicks back.
It’s a hypnotic technique; if we want someone to think of something, we say, “don’t think of this.” Like the famous example, “Don’t think of an elephant” and we think of an elephant. Or we tell children, don’t touch my computer and there they are at the computer.
And what’s worse is the expectation; the thought that it should be “just” that easy is an added weight on a weighted soul. We can carry around these selfies of expectations, of ourselves glaring at our “mistakes,” ourselves with others glaring or staring at us.
Instead of pushing a thought away, we can pause, stop whatever we’re doing for a second; take an easy, longer breath. And notice where we’re standing. We can’t easily stop a thought; but we can add another more aware, generous, or compassionate one. In my dreams, when something pursues me and I try to hide or turn away, the dream becomes a nightmare, the pursuer expands exponentially into a monster and chases me in a manner too terrible to see. When I face the pursuer, it shrinks and becomes just another living being to recognize. There’s great power in facing and knowing when to face our monsters.
One memorable insight I got from mythologist Joseph Campbell and others was that sometimes what seems threatening can be a “call” to us, to step up, try something new; and by doing so, we find ourselves. What once seemed a fright becomes something like an adventure. Writer C. K. Chesterton agreed with Campbell’s point when he wrote: “an adventure is only an inconvenience rightly considered.” And the bible: “For the turning away of the simple shall slay them…” Of course, sometimes, we should just turn away.
So, one thing that can turn thoughts into torture is letting them chase us from right now; or chase us from looking into what’s living in and around us. We might think the thought itself, and the object of thought carries the whole package of hurt. However, the loss of a moment, of clear seeing, hurts. The running hurts. The negative verdict on ourselves binds and blinds us. It’s how we respond to events or news that matters most. There’s great power, perspective, and freedom in spending time to clearly consider how we respond. Maybe we can’t just “let go.” But maybe, maybe we can stop feeding what’s eating us.
And some things we’re not always ready to face. In that case, being caring of ourselves is perfect. All of us have such times, such traumas or hurts. And noticing as much as we possibly can, in that moment, whatever is there for us, with caring and compassion is such a gift. No expectations, just noticing. Such kindness opens us; being judgmental closes us.
Instead of being absorbed by an emotion, we can use our attention to “just” notice it. We can break apart what plagues us by noticing what the sensations are and where they‘re located. We can name the quality of feeling and the volume. We can, of course, also talk with others about them, say what we feel safe to say, or say what’s just a little bit beyond safe; or say what feels right. By noticing what feels right and honest in ourselves, and what is right and honest in relating to others is great power. Instead of trying to be a hero in anyone else’s dream, be honest in ours.
We could write what we feel, journal, do what teachers Linda Trichter Metcalf and Tobin Simon called a proprioceptive write, and record what we hear ourselves saying in our mind and feel in our body. There’s something so powerful in the mere act of writing, especially with a pen or pencil. It can be so powerful to moment by moment, word by word break any shell we might’ve enclosed ourselves in.
Recently, after several painful medical episodes, I felt I was doing just the opposite and isolating, turning inward on myself. And of course, hearing the daily political news can also encourage isolation. But there’s also the opposite; there’s wanting so much to do something beneficial. So many of us feel the hatred, cruelty, blindness, injustice, and corruption of the present administration must be stopped. On our own, thinking up something that would be immediately significant can be overwhelming. But we can do things like drive people to the polls, be poll watchers, write cards to get out the vote, or make calls to a Congressional office. Joining with others is key.
In all areas of our lives, action wakes our sense that we can act. In 1970, Carol Hanisch wrote an essay “The Personal is Political.” It’s also the other way around– the political is personal.
And “just” breathing— for some, focusing on our breath is wonderful. But for some, other paths are more helpful. We can focus on the feel of our feet on the ground, our butt on a chair. Or feel the expansion and contraction of our shoulder muscles, the expansion, and—the letting go, settling down. We then can notice the details, the texture of the floor, the type of molding around the windows. Or we can listen, to bird calls, crickets, the wind or rain, the flow of traffic. There’s great power in being present, such a capacity for joy.
Or as Les Fehmi and Jim Robbins describe, we can feel the spaces in the room. Feel the distance from our belly to the walls, ceiling, or floor. Expanding what we take in, so our hurt shrinks from the whole of life to just one aspect of an infinite universe. We have this power to constantly expand our sense of what our life is.
I might be wrong in part, but this is what I have so far concluded: In our noticing and in choosing our response, we have wondrous power. We might just let the whole universe sit with, or more accurately, as us. And who wants to live dishonestly or die feeling half lived?
—
This Post is republished on Medium.
—
Photo credit: iStock
