You have to Do
the Not Doing
In order to Undo
the Over-Doing.

I look at myself in relation to my practice. One intrinsic factor to regular practice is the there-ness of it. Always there regardless of the ups and downs. The rebellions the infatuations with it. To bang up against it, then cuddle with then, ignore it even as I do it are all relational aspects. Or perhaps it is more accurate to say that I bang up against my self in those ways. It is the steadiness of being with myself that is crucial. A way of always being there for myself. Of not reacting.

In childhood the world taught me how to alter my behavior to get attention. Each action on my behalf elicited different behavior on behalf of the world, initiating the cultivation of manipulative behavior. I got lost in it. I found myself designing my actions order to get what I thought I needed from everyone else. I never had the space inside myself for any other person to be there in a neutrally loving way for me throughout my goods AND bads. I had no room for someone to accompany me equally through my dull moments as well as my shiny moments and thus never felt how constancy could exist for me.

In my practice I hold steady. Practice is really concerned with developing, in increasingly subtle ways, the ability to be a non-manipulative companion to oneself.

I have often wondered about the addictive component of meditative practice. Am I addicted to the feeling of relaxation and ease that is the result of movement and breath? I know of course that it is a healthy addiction and that addiction is in fact a way to cope with the vicissitudes of human experience. But am I preventing myself from feeling uncomfortable? Is the urge to come to a condition of relaxation and ease a way to avoid feeling ill at ease?

I have spent time lately letting my practice be feeling my discomfort. Rather than move and stretch and reach that sublime brain bath of perfect neurotransmitters I watch myself feel uncomfortable. I watch myself wander about the apartment doing my work while feeling on edge. I watch myself crave, but not engage in, a conversation or consuming food or any other form of distraction that will mitigate this uneasiness. I feel the feeling. I don’t try to force the situation one way or the other.

The result has been varied. Sometimes I cannot bear discomfort any more and take an action to shift my chemistry. Other times I watch as the feelings gradually melt down. Occasionally I grow exhausted and fall asleep. When I wake I feel refreshed, altered.

What has happened in me? I experience myself without judgement or manipulation. I feel greater self-trust, more self-reliant. I know I can tolerate my internal itchiness. It will pass. I'll have obsessive thoughts and they too will pass. I see that I've had the impulse to commit actions that would further dig me into discomfort but have not done them. My discomfort passes over sooner. This is a comfort.

In considering what it means to heal I have to look at the act of doing even healthy self-manipulation as another way to disempower my body. It is as if the body is not good enough to sort itself out in its own time and own way. That it must be forced into better-ness by juicing and yoga or whatever. All these self-betterments are controlling behaviors. To move away from these into patient self-witness exhibits a different sort of internal growth, one that accepts that we are not invincible, or all-powerful. We are many things sometimes powerful and radiant, sometimes frail. Sometimes ordinary.

©2001 Dunya Dianne McPherson