Owning it!

I was sitting in a park recently when two kids had a spat. Their mother came over to intervene when one shouted that the other had mad her mad. How often have you heard that? In the current political environment, it would not be long before you can hear someone suggest that Trump (or some other politician) makes them so mad.

There are lots of reasons to be mad at Trump (and a load of other political, social and economic leaders). The point is, of course, that the anger is yours and mine. Other people do not own our emotional states - only we do. In society today, there seems to be a reduction in ownership for emotional states and the reactions connected to them.

“But feelings can't be ignored, no matter how unjust or ungrateful they seem.”  Anne Franke

Owning our own emotions matters as it is also a way to manage our ego. Ego is, in many real ways, the avoidance of our emotions as it is about believing that what we think we want is all that matters. We can see this in many kinds of relationships where there is a lack of mutuality. Think of the difference in the expressions - "I feel that some time with you over a cup of coffee" - versus - "have coffee with me I need to talk." One is owning what you would like and requesting it, the other is demanding because the ego wants it. This becomes very obvious in dominating, abusive relationships where the ego of one is that matters.

When the ego takes over, we detach from the emotional expression of self and the emotional needs of others. This is when how another is affected by your behaviour becomes unimportant or small. The role of the other person becomes not about what is good for them or even both of you, only what you want matters even at the expense of the other person. There becomes no choice between what the ego wants and what the other person feels or needs - the ego must always win out.

“The ego is the false self-born out of fear and defensiveness.”  - John O'Donohue 

The ego out of control is the abuser in action.

When we allow ego to dominate, we lose sight of relationship, our place in the world and the obligation we have to own the impact we have on others. You may not agree with these statements but reflect upon the role of ego (I am right) versus the role of relationship (We both have needs):

• Don't you dare spend that money unless I've told you it's ok!
• If people want health care, get a job!
• The Indian Residential Schools don't matter - they occurred long ago, just get over it!
• Alcoholics are weak and they just need to stop drinking!
• You aren't working out hard enough because you don't have the abs!

I'm willing to bet that you can add a dozen more statements like this with ease. Not only does ego drive this thinking but so also is a lack of compassion. It is very hard to care for another if your belief is that what you need is all that matters.

Meditation is a place to nurture compassion and come to realize that all you do is linked to outcomes for others. When its "all about me" then it is "not about the other".  Can you feel that in meditation and own it?

"The square root of I is I" - Nabokov 

The ego of one or the place of compassion amongst many?

Mine

Walking amongst the Jasmine
I smell the perfume
It brings treasured memories
The aroma is mine

I place my face into the blossom
Breathe deeply
Hold the essence in my nostrils
It is all mine

Walking away I take it with me
Reminiscing about past connections
Surely I can hold on to this
And share it with no-one


 © Peter Choate 2017

The Rage Within

For most of us, we don't think of rage as a typical part of our emotional repertoire. We might acknowledge giving the finger to a driver who has cut us off, uttering a nasty, sarcastic comment to someone who has been rude or muttering vicious words under our breath when offended. But outright rage - nope not us. Particularly not those of us who meditate - you know, us calm ones.

Yet rage is a true part of most of us. It finds its roots in childhood typically. This can be the result of harsh experiences such as abuse, maltreatment or neglect. It might find origins in rejection by peers or a failure on our own part to figure out the intricacies of social relationships. Premature death of a loved one or loss of a mentor or a pet can act as sources when we feel such grief to have been the result of injustice.

Others might find rage develop in adult life as a result of marital losses, job or career disappointments or economic upheaval.

Rage can develop when oppression has surrounded our life pathways. Individuals or groups who have been subject to racism, for example, have undergone systemic oppression that has touched the fabric of their existence. For them, justice has been consistently absent in their lives.

We have seen collective rage in the attacks of ISIS; the verbal brutality of recent election campaigns; of racist rants and notices posted upon places of worship. There has been a growth in legislative action that marginalizes women, poor, minorities and those of various sexual orientations. Victims of crimes such as assault, rape, theft, burglary, fraud (to name a few) may well experience rage.

Some rage is expressed directly to a person or group - we have seen much of that in the news recently. Rage can be less conspicuous such as seen in subtle racism where services are diminished , denied or blocked through bureaucratic niceties.

Public discourse now has more extremes rather than thoughtful, nuanced discussion where various sides of an issue seek to understand each other.

My proposal is that rage has increasingly become more present, more accepted and thus more permissible.

We pay a price for increased rage in our communities and relationships. Understanding vanishes; listening is closed down; meanness is given license and compromise and collaboration are devalued. Since the only one we can truly know is ourselves (as we are the only being we can fully access should we seek to do so), then meditation is the point of finding the rage within and coming to honour its existence. The question for the self might be not so much why the rage but rather how can it be accepted as a true part of the self without giving it harmful voice. By knowing it, giving it a narrative that is both honest and compassionate, rage can be a teacher of where some of our deepest hurts lie within. From there comes acceptance and forgiveness disarming the rage.

Our society needs more of this. By giving the compassion and understanding to self, we can begin to give it to others. We can choose what we put into the world - is rage our gift? Meditate upon the emotion within and let the sun set on its power but still accept its presence.

Rage Born

Acquaintance with the strap
Came early
Not as victim
First just as witness
Obey and you will not meet
Rules sublime and obscure
Obvious offences there for sure
These were not feared
Transgressions of the unknown
Terrifying
Leading to the flying leather
Targeting the hand
Just below the fingers
Delivering burning pain
What charge had led to the conviction
Where be the judge and jury
Bearing witness to the guilt
No defence possible
Only sentencing of whatever
The jailor decides
Rage incited in the child
Growing with each punishment
Held in but real
When to be expressed
Surely it must
For the toxin
Cannot be contained

© Peter Choate, 2017   

The curse of loneliness

I walk a lot. In my travels, I notice people who I see often - walking always by themselves. Some I notice come into some of my favourite coffee haunts. They sit by themselves slowly pouring over the daily paper or stare into space watching the minutes tick by.

Loneliness is a curse when it is the pervasive reality of life. Each of us can feel this way from time to time. Some of us avoid that feeling through constant business whether it is activity, watching TV or persistent social media involvement. Loneliness is a natural emotion that we all experience at various times. It might be when the children move out, your spouse is away, friends aren't around or even on days when life just feels a little distant.

For many, loneliness is a disease that comes particularly in the older years. Disconnection occurs as children move away, spouses pass on and friends die. Ours is a society in which new connections can be challenging. Have you noticed that, as loneliness creeps in, the ability to connect, get out there, diminishes?

What happens when we say hello to some of the people that we see by themselves often? It is an experiment I'm trying (well sort of an experiment). I've started saying hello to homeless, people along my walks and the ones that I see in the coffee shop alone. Most respond although a few look down or away.

In meditation, when we find that lonely spot within ourselves, we can have empathic connection with others living at the margins in some ways. Compassion for self is the source of empathy for others.

He accomplished nothing today,
as usual.
Nothing was his mundane ritual.
In it was sleep, oatmeal, bacon and bourbon.
Not typically in that order.

There was also the walk.
He brought his companion,
an old Nikon DSLR bought in the 90s.
Each day pictures were taken with
no audience other than himself.

At night over a few bourbons,
he looked over the photos,
or images as he preferred to call them.
He had stories for each of them
but no one to hear them.

Weekly he went to Ed's Groceteria,
for more oatmeal, bacon and bourbon.
Ed always stuck a Twinkie in the bag,
which was saved for Sunday dinner.

It was Ed who offered conversation,
once a week.
Ed was his company.
If he could say he had a friend,
it would be Ed.

One week and then the next,
he didn't come in for his chat with Ed.
He was dead, Ed was sure of it.
But Ed never new where he lived,
so there was no one to go find out.

Weeks later, over coffee and Bailey's.
Ed saw the story on the back page.
"Decaying body found"
Ed knew who it was.
"Jim McBain, Vietnam veteran,
found dead in his home."
Ah, that was his name.

Loneliness is a disease.
It had taken Jim, while infecting many.
Ed wondered about Jim's soul,
had it found a companion?
Ed pondered and poured a bourbon.

© Peter Choate, 2016

How are you experienced by others

I think all of us have met the person whose presence is quiet yet powerful. They have a humility about themselves. They may have accomplished great things but yet these are not the things that define them. Rather, it is compassion, empathy, trust, kindness and a caring about the relationship they have with you - even if it is for only a brief conversation. I have been privileged to meet several such people.

Many years ago, I met a Canadian prime minister. I was a university student engaged with the university radio. This man was on campus to give a lecture and I asked for a few minutes of his time. We sat quietly and  chatted. I expressed an interest in a book he had written. A few weeks later, a signed copy arrived in the mail. What struck me was the lack of need to impress.

By comparison, I interviewed a well known media personality who couldn't help but tell me about his accomplishments - which were interesting - but that was his story line. The prime minister was as interested in me, the university and chatting about the issues of the day.

Which aspect of yourself should be shown, cared for, nurtured, managed differently?

There may be many reasons for the two sides of the high profile persona, but I use them as examples. The notion is who are we as seen by others? How do you imagine people experience you? What would you like them to say about interactions with you? These are not questions of ego but rather an internal consideration of your "footprint" with others. It requires taking time, as in meditation, to know yourself in an honest way.

All of us have self aspects that are not very attractive. Can we build a relationship with those characteristics so that, as they arise, we are familiar with them. This gives the opportunity to then use the presence of that feature differently. The aspect of self isn't going to disappear but we can respond consciously when we are intimate with the feature. Then we relate differently with others.

The Cop

He traversed the faint space

between life and death with that final breath.

Death was a companion

he had walked beside all his adult life.

It visited once before,

shot in the face as a rookie cop.

The bullet fragments roamed his head as though alive,

tweaking nerves to send pain striking.

His hearing impaired by the insult with that shot.

From then he knew of that faint space between life and death.

He crouched closely to it, smelled it, saw it, felt it,

but turned away with an irrevocable memory.

He had meaning,

being a cop mattered as he believed,

believed his actions changed the course of lives.

He died late in life,

as the cop who had never used his gun.

© Peter Choate, 2016

Being the Silent Witness

Social workers witness trauma - and - quite specifically - the legacy of trauma. This is the detritus that we witness on a regular basis. The trauma is bad enough in many cases but the clean up can tae years. As we have been seeing on a regular basis in the news, victims of sexual assault rarely report the crime. When they do, conviction rates are low.

Here in Canada, we have been watching a judge being "tried" to determine if he will keep his job. He made inappropriate comments in a sexual assault case illustrating a failure to understand the crime. I'm sure you can quickly think of dozens of sexual assaults that have been handled poorly by justice systems in various places around the globe.

Other forms of inter personal violence are also typically under reported.

As social workers (along with other front line responders) we become witnesses to the impacts of the trauma. It is particularly hard when victims lack the voice to be heard. It is also sad when the justice systems fail to respond and protect victims. When we see these failures, we can feel as though we might own the failure as our clients turn to us trying to understand. We often lack explanations.

These cases tend to haunt us. Many front line workers tell the story of the case where someone dies as a result of systemic failures. It happens. In truth, most of the cases where a child dies, people forget that it was not the social worker who killed the child but a caretaker. Even so, we bear the scars.

In meditation, there is an opportunity to develop compassion for not only the victim but also the perpetrator who, themselves, are typically victims as well. They bear the burdens of their own traumas which they live out in their emotional and physical violence, creating another generation of traumas. Compassion is not a free pass - it is understanding in a way that helps us to see the vulnerable, hurt person who is also the perpetrator. When we find the compassion, we carry less hurt within ourselves.

Yes, there are some perpetrators who make compassion hard. The German philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer reminds us that "compassion is the basis of morality." It is also the foundation which separates us from those who would be violent. It is that fine line that matters.

Silent Witness

There it is

Not a word will be spoken

A story will be told

It is one for which every effort will be made to withhold

It is a story that must be told

And cannot be withheld

If the reader truly seeks 

to find it

Looking down I see the need

Crouching

I come to look into the eyes

Not a word is needed

I see eyes that are too old

For such a child

Eyes that stare

Refusing to yield

These are the eyes that have witnessed

I move ever so slightly

The eyes fixate

The body tenses

The story is now told

It is not ready to be spoken

I have become the truth holder

Until the child can find voice

If ever

© Peter Choate, 2016