If we are all potentially as wise, awake, and compassionate as the man who became known as the Buddha, why don't we experience ourselves that way? If our nature is "brilliant sanity," why are we often so confused, distressed, anxious, depressed, or angry? What gets in the way?
When the Buddha woke up to his true nature, his brilliant sanity, he became a teacher who showed others how to wake up as well. The very first teachings he gave are now commonly known as the Four Noble Truths. The first one of these truths is concerned with the situation in which we find ourselves. Then, the next three go on to describe what we can do about it. (We will look into those in upcoming blog entries.)
The place to start, according to the Buddha, and according to Contemplative Psychotherapy, is right where we are. Instead of trying to find a way out, we need to first see where we are. This sounds a bit obvious. "Of course", we might say, "I know where I am and what I'm experiencing already." But do we really? The suggestion from the Contemplative point of view is that we don't really let ourselves fully touch our present experience.
Specifically, we don't usually recognize how much pain we are in. The Buddha's first truth is "The Truth of Suffering." Life, he said, is pervaded by pain. There is the pain of old age, sickness, and death: the realities that he saw for himself on his ride with his chariot driver. In addition, there are all of the subtle and not so subtle ways that we suffer. We get what we don't want; we don't get what we do want. Once we get things we want, they don't last or aren't as wonderful as we had hoped. Things are not fair: even though we've already got a lot on our plate, something else difficult comes along. All of these, the Buddha said, are inevitable. Being alive, being human, means that there will be pain. It cannot be avoided.
It might sound like a pretty depressing point of view, but I have seen, in myself and in my clients, how simply acknowledging the existence of pain in our lives can be a relief. Seeing that being in pain is not evidence of doing something wrong can remove a good deal of self-blame and self-aggression.
I have noticed a particularly harmful belief that many people have: they believe that if they are experiencing pain, it is somehow their own fault. "I have a cold; it's because I didn't take care of myself and get enough sleep." Or, "I lost my job; if only I had been more sociable." Or, "I was diagnosed with cancer; if only I had let myself grieve more for my mother."
Sure, sometimes we make things worse (and that's exactly what the Buddhist psychological teachings help us relate to), but there's no way to live our lives and escape the experiences of dissatisfaction, loss, and challenge. They're part of the package deal of being alive.
So, this first noble truth is that we need to begin by seeing how we are experiencing pain right now. If we just slow down and drop our distractions for a little while, what do we notice? Sometimes there is sadness, tears. Other times, there is anger or shame. Many times, there is just relief, a sense of dropping the struggle to appear fine when we're not feeling fine.
Most of the people I see as clients in therapy have come because of some sense of disquiet or suffering that they are feeling. Sometimes they are not clear about what that is; sometimes they are. Often our first step together is to tap into whatever pain they are feeling in the moment.
Going to a therapist is a way to find support and companionship on the journey of exploring one's suffering. As a therapist, I see it as what I am offering to my clients: "I will go with you as you relax into whatever it is that needs to be felt and explored." Sometimes it is just too scary to try to do that alone. Other times it is too difficult to put aside one's distractions long enough to feel what's happening.
One of my clients, let's call her Fran, came in when her marriage came to an end. Even though Fran didn't really want to continue the relationship, herself, still it was a painful loss. She had long centered her life and her ordinary decisions around being married and didn't know how to proceed. On top of that, she felt that she needed to keep herself together for her children. She had been presenting herself to them, and to her friends, as "doing well," but she knew she wasn't doing well, not really. She felt like she was hanging on by her fingernails. At night, when she could be alone, she felt lost and lonely. Coming to therapy was a chance to really touch in to what she was experiencing without being afraid that she would upset someone else.
Fran's usual pattern was to either keep things to herself or to take care of friends who might feel upset by Fran's situation. Either way, she didn't get much support or comfort. For Fran to experience the sharp feelings of grief, anger, and confusion that she was having, without having to soften the edges of the pain to take care of someone else, led to many discoveries about herself.
First, she saw that she could feel all her feelings. It was "do-able." Next, there was simply the relief of letting go of the covering-up process. Then, together we learned exactly how this pattern of care-taking worked. Later we explored alternatives and were curious together about what she might have to give up if she were to change this pattern. But, before we could do that, she needed to begin at the beginning with allowing and feeling her uncomfortable emotions in the moment.
Acknowledging one's pain can be quick or it can be a gradual process. In either case, we can't explore how to work with the pain and find other ways of being, until we see what's already going on. Recognizing the pain we are already experiencing is often the first step in uncovering our brilliant sanity.
