Violence and meditation are mutually exclusive but...

Violence comes in many forms - physical, sexual, emotional, verbal, financial. Those who perpetrate violence often do so from having been victims themselves which might include direct or indirect methods. A good example of the latter is being a witness to violence such as parents in violent relationships or, as seen in the flood of refugees, witnessing the crimes and destruction of war.

Not all victims of violence become violent but the trend is strongly there. Men are more likely to perpetrate on women as a result of their own experiences and women are more likely to be victims as adults.

Another important form of insult is the withholding of love, care and attention. When a parent refuses or is incapable of giving these things to a child, it creates of state of emotional deprivation. Feeling important might be made up when another adult offers it - such as a relative or a teacher, coach or even the parents of the child's friend. But rejection from those who are supposed to nurture you is felt deeply.

Betrayal is a wound that impacts identity: I'm not worthy; I'm not meant to be loved; I am a horrible person. These wounds are also powerfully linked to physical and mental health disorders. The Adverse Childhood Experiences study has demonstrated this.

For those who have experienced violence, one of the common emotions is powerlessness and the inability to be in control of self. Violence takes control of one's existence away. Victims know that the other people are able to be in charge in a moment. They dictate what is acceptable!

Recovery from these kinds of traumas involves therapy, ceremony, support, changing language to such words as survivor and the use of techniques that help to manage and control emotions. Meditation is one such technique - it is part of the recovery toolbox.

Meditation should not be done as the sole recovery tool. In meditation, strong emotions and memories can arise. We learn to observe rather than react. At the same time, we typically need supports to help with processing what may arise. Meditation allows us to step back and no longer be the actor in the story of the violence.

A simple tragedy

She cowers in the corner
Nightly
Listening
Alert

She knows the sound of the punch
Whack
Thud
Unmistakable

She hates the yelling
Booming
Crude
Insulting

She protects her little brother
Crying
Clinging
Bowed

She pushed the bed against the door
Protecting
Defending
Hoping

She sings to her brother
Pretending
Hiding
Denying

She gets up the next morning
Tiptoeing
Cleaning
Vigilant

She prepares her brother
Caring
Loving
Supporting

She takes them both to school
Happy
Connected
Safe

She leaves the grade four classroom
Slowly
Tense
Timid

She takes her brother home
Lonely
Fearful
Angry

She plays her part in the family tragedy
Hopeless
Isolated
Pained

© Peter Choate, 2016

Childhood as a place of meditation

There have been some very interesting experiments lately with introducing meditation to children.  Some of the news reports are showing quite positive results. Other reports see it in a somewhat mixed  way. One perspective that might be considered, is the way in which behaviours in childhood act in a number of different ways in adulthood:

• they create a sense of identity for us - the who we are;
• they tell us about how we connect with others as well as ourselves;
• they intrigue us about what does and does not work;
• they tell us how to cope with adversity which is linked to our resilience;
• as well, they tell us about situations and patterns that make us feel better or worse.

There are certainly lots of other things that childhood experiences lay down for our adult life. The neuro-biology of the brain gets significantly wired in childhood. It remains changeable, but it is much harder to do in adult years after about age 25 when the brain is seen as "fully" developed.

These childhood experiences are pathways in adulthood that help us develop a coherent story of our life. When childhood is dangerous, fearful, chaotic or lonely, then the story tends to be less coherent and comforting. Thus, in adulthood when we meditate, we are often drawing upon emotional territory that first came to light in childhood. 

Let's take an example. Sit quietly for just a few minutes. Ask which experience in childhood really stands out for you. As you recall this, focus on how your body is responding. If the event was happy, you might experience a smile on your face, feel your pulse quieten, or muscles relax. The reverse might be true if the memory is unhappy or disturbing. These show the legacy of childhood. 

In meditation, when positive or negative emotions from childhood arise, stepping back, observing and letting the emotion pass, permits truth to be known without it becoming "the story" of who you are. At the same time, observing (not attaching) to these emotions permits us to understand why we react certain ways. When the adult behaviours create upset or attachments, we can use meditation to observe, let go and still teach such that, the next time we behave in a particular way, we can take three simple steps:

1. Observe the emotion knowing that you have seen it before - it is familiar;
2. Acknowledge that it is there; and
3. Let it pass shifting attention to the next experience that arises. 

Our past does not define who we are now but it certainly influences it. Bearing that in mind helps us to see the value of helping a child to learn meditation.

Eight years old

Breakfast done

Toast and peanut butter

Two wheels

Off with my buddy

Ravines

Sand dunes

Railway tracks

First smoke

Export A unfiltered

Last smoke

Learned the word fuck

Tried it on mom

Told to wait

Till dad got home

Lecture endured

Fish and chip Friday

Dinner over

New book

Hardy Boys

Great day

© Peter Choate, 2016

Trump and meditation

The title of this post may immediately seem a contradiction. As I was meditating this morning, though, it is evident that more of this connection is needed. We are seeing growing passions, pro and con, following the American election. In some sense, we are seeing a nation divided.

An editorial on the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation (CBC) this morning talks of similar divides in Europe. We have seen Brexit and there are elections coming up in Germany, Austria, France and a referendum in Italy. There is much foment about.

Being politically aware and engaged is a good thing. It is also the source of much emotional upset within self and within and between groups. Without meditation and contemplation, we increasingly become impulsively driven by the disagreements and divisions. We begin to lose our way to reasoned intervention failing instead to the kinds of behaviours that lead to further division.

There is no question we need to protect all peoples regardless of race, gender, sexual identity, health status, economic position. Here is Canada, we face a particularly powerful moment as we, as a collective nation, must address our own history of violent, oppressive racism. The results of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission call us to action to repair and redress the history. Canadians must be careful to not call out other nations if ignoring or failing to act on its own challenges.

Meditation grounds us. It affords us the opportunity to see peace within and to find our place in the broader discussion of society. What seemed such a good idea, after meditation and reflection, may not seem so. Rather, the way may be clearer as we just sit with our emotions and allow pathways to evolve.

Society is in desperate need of meditation based reflection, thought and conversation. We are awash in rhetoric, anger, revenge and impulsivity. Ask what personal price you will pay if anger, revenge, hatred or despair become your internal dialogue. Politics today is inviting this. Engaging it is not without real payment required. How can you engage in a way that adds without destroying? How can you engage without internal harm? Where are the points of action that will make true change possible even if at a very local level? How will you treat the person who today is afraid of their place in society? Finding answers from within to those sorts of questions may be where your true power lies. Falling for the political rhetoric may instead bring internal crazy making.

I sit
I am
I be

I see my place
Here and
Everywhere

I am a force
But not alone
And not silent

I add to the direction
Of safety and welcome
Bringing together

Division hurts
Divide destroys
Understanding is hard

Listening
Thinking
Including

© Peter Choate, 2016

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