This Week's Article:
The Zen Lifestyle -
Additive versus Subtractive
I'm starting a new series of articles about Zen understandings. Or, at least my peculiar twist on how a "Simple Presence" approach to life might be of use to you.
Zen has the habit of turning our understandings on their ear.
If you've read my book, This Endless Moment, you'll remember my saying, early on, that the most important concept to 'get' is that there is no real reality. What this means is that stuff is happening – in the world, in our lives, and we grow, mature, and change. The stuff that is happening, however, has no meaning. It just is. The way we interpret what is happening is entirely personal AND optional.
Our human consciousness is undeniable. How deeply conscious (present) we are is determined by where and how we place our attention.
The learning process, in a sense, 'just happens' as we observe the world around us. We perceive a 'thing that is happening.' Our natural process is then to ascribe meaning (an interpretation) to the thing we perceive. At the level of categorization, this is a good thing. We learn, for example, not to touch 'hot' things.
We might say that one test of how well we are doing in being conscious is how comfortable we are as we interact with these essentially meaningless things.
Once we move past categorization of the things (including people) that we interact with, we enter the realm of fictional stories.
Life discomfort comes when how we interpret events does not match what is actually happening 'out there.' And that begs the question:
when I feel discomfort, do I blame 'out there,' or
do I question my interpretation?
Here is how our story-telling works: we see an event, and rather than stay cleanly engaged with the event per se, we start to run a script based upon stories we have told ourselves in the past.
For example, if I believe that I am incapable of having a meaningful and lasting relationship, this story will colour each and every transaction I have with my partner.
If I am not conscious of this story, I will find myself doing two things:
1) noticing any event that supports my story, and
2) ignoring every instance the denies my story.
Or, I may believe that my role in life is to explain life to my partner or child – to 'help' them to 'see the light.'
Now, if we are talking about a real child – say someone under 14 or so, then yes, our job as adults is to keep 'him' safe, fed, dry, housed and clothed. We are also responsible for socializing the child, so that he can fit in to the culture to which he belongs.
Where this falls off the rails is when parents continue to parent their adult kids – endlessly interfering with them. "You are not happy, and I have to fix you." Or, when one spouse decides their partner is 'a child.' The 'parent' partner then engages in an endless tirade designed to get their partner to behave.
All of this seems reasonable to the person doing this, because they think they know best for another. They are unwilling to deal with the actual person – they want the other person to shift so they can be comfortable. As if the role of other people is to behave so as to make others happy.
What's odd about all of this is that the other person typically isn't asking to be fixed! And you can't fix another person anyway. It's hard enough to fix ourselves.
Here's where the additive and subtractive part of this week's article title comes in. Many people think that therapy is 'about' digging in and rooting out all that is 'wrong.' They think 'bad stuff' has to be subtracted. So, typically, such people trap themselves into trying to figure out how they got to be who they are. In other words, they are looking to figure out who to blame for their dilemma.
Parents typically get a lot of blame. "If only my parents had been different, had been better role models, had treated me differently."
Partners, past and present, are also blamed. "Why doesn't she understand? Why can't he grow up and act right? If only I'd picked better."
Of course, such reflections lead precisely nowhere. The reflections are based upon stories we tell ourselves, and not upon present reality.
Our first admission needs to be this:
All we have are our memories of the past, and our memories are notoriously unreliable and self-serving. Our sub-conscious minds 'selectively pull' "memories" to support what we already believe!
And even if the story we tell ourselves is essentially 'true,' (dad was a jerk and mom was an enabler, or whatever…) so what? Is knowing that likely to change anything in the here and now?
Who you are right now, is … wait for it … who you are right now. There is no way to change one iota of your past. You can't get a better deal, can't change your upbringing, nor can you change a single decision you ever made.
What you can do is wake up.
Waking up involves stepping out of the dream.
The dream is the story you tell yourself.
I'm abused.
I'm hard done by.
I'm a victim.
He is the jerk, I am the princess.
I have to get everyone to believe my side of the story.
Everyone hates me / is out to get me.
How people perceive me is important.
And on and on.
The dream is you, living on auto-pilot, repeating the same lame behaviour, day after day, decade after decade. And never, ever, accepting responsibility for your behaviour.
Waking up is seeing the game for what it is, and choosing, repeatedly, to walk another path.
In other words, rather than doing away with our stories (we can't) we find new ways of thinking and being.
It's additive.
Now, for us, the Zen approach is best. This perspective is very much oriented toward being present without judgement and without preconceived notions. In other words, I engage with what is happening now, so that my behaviour is relevant.
When I take this approach, all that matters is what is going on in this moment. I choose to let go of the past – all of the 'trying to fix things,' all of the 'assigning blame.'
In this moment, I can choose to see and hear and interact, or I can choose to let the situation or person go, for now or for forever. I can make that choice based upon where I am right now, as opposed to making the decision based upon the past.
I've been reading a book called Zen Body-Being, by Peter Ralston. I read a section last night that I loved:
"The success of our actions depends entirely on our ability to relate appropriately to what is actually occurring in this moment."
And here's the key:
"Notice that the principle is not based upon what we perceive or experience. This may not make sense unless we recognize that there is a discrepancy between our perception and what is occurring. In short, we can perceive something other than what is there, and fail to perceive what is actually there." [p 151]
In other words, what we think is going on is just what we think is going on. It's not necessarily what is going on.
I remember once, sitting with a couple. The woman told me at great length, and with sighs and tears, what her husband thought about the topic at hand. I asked her if she was interested in actually asking him what he thought, as he was sitting right next to her. It turned out that she was interested, and asked.
'Strangely enough,' he thought exactly the opposite of what she thought he thought! And she'd been mad at him for a week, because she 'knew' what he was thinking, and … well, you get the point.
We begin to move past all of this by getting our noses planted on our side of the fence. I do not know what Darbella is thinking, doing, wanting, desiring.
I can tell myself a story and interact with her as if my story is true. Or, I can ask her.
Guess which one works?













