Let yourself be

Note: as I’ve gotten sicker writing has become more difficult. In order to continue this blog I’m trying a new format: short and pithy.

Today in a brief email to a friend I wrote: “To say that my health is poor is an understatement. But I’m still alive to joyful walk my spiritual path.”

If you don’t have a spiritual path that’s okay because what I really mean is that so long as we’re alive we have the chance to experience a moment of gentle peace, a quiet space of dignity that is the true nature of who we are. 

Take one moment. Sit silently. Be still.

Beyond worry and fear is peace. Beyond hope is a vast space of fearless freedom. Don’t think about it. Let go and taste it.

Being is not the same as doing. For a few moments each day quit doing.

Let go. Let go of everything. Just be. It’s easy. For just a few moments every day be who you truly are. It will slowly become a habit.

All of life is lived in one moment. We are alive now.

Illness and the Buddha’s begging bowel

In Old Path White Clouds, Thich Nhat Hanh’s classic retelling of the Buddha’s life, the Buddha explained why he and his disciples begged for their daily meal: begging was a spiritual discipline that enabled the monks to develop patience and humility and because it freed them from having to prepare their own meals they had more time for spiritual practice. Moreover the monks learned not to be overly attached to food and to accept whatever was offered with gratitude – even a small yam or bit of rice was better than an empty bowl.

Because the monks were in daily contact with the lay community they established meaningful relationships with the townsfolk and could share the Buddha’s teachings with anyone who expressed interested. The concept of karma is deeply rooted in India and the villagers, whether Hindu or Buddhist, understood that they accumulated merit and good karma by offering food to the monks. By relying upon the generosity of villagers for their food the monks were reminded everyday of the truth of interdependence – that we are all interconnected and dependent upon each other.

We generally think of dependency as a bad thing. The truth however is that we are dependent upon each other all of the time. The problem is that we don’t usually see let alone acknowledge our interdependence. That’s partly because our culture over-values independence. We have an entire national mythology, a sort of cultural fantasy, of rugged individualism that might be great for our egos but that’s devastating for our development of kindness and community.  Of course we are all unique individuals each with our own talents and gifts. But at the same time we depend upon each other for our very existence.

Illness reminds me daily of my dependency and the truth of interdependence. I have to ask for help cooking my meals, doing laundry, getting to medical appointments, picking up prescriptions, shopping for food. Even the most basic things are often beyond what I can manage. Everyday I rely upon family, friends and even strangers for assistance. Most people are happy to help – it feels good to help another person.

Whenever I do ask for help, perhaps for something as simple as reaching for an object off a grocery shelf, there is a small but profound moment of contact with another human being. In that way illness provides me with opportunities to develop meaningful connections with other people and my community. In turn, my dependency creates opportunities for other people to practice generosity, kindness, compassion and even patience. And that’s a good thing. How else can we develop these qualities?

When we can’t take care of our own needs we can either become bitter and resentful or we can learn to accept our situation. I have to be patient with my situation and with those who are trying to help me. I have to be willing to ask for and accept help even though it's not always easy to do. Illness is my chance to practice and develop qualities of patience, kindness, gratitude, and humility. It's extremely humbling to be dependent which may be one reason, culturally speaking, that we prefer to forget our interdependence.

Humility is not valued in our culture and yet it's extremely important. We tend to think of humility as a kind of weakness but actually it’s a great strength. When we've tamed our ego to the extent that we care as much for and about other people as we do ourselves that is freedom. It's freedom because we've freed our minds, if even just a little bit, from poisonous emotions like jealousy and resentment, pride, arrogance, anger, spite and all the negative states of mind that cause us so much suffering – sometimes far worse than any physical illness. Gentleness, humility, kindness and compassion are true strengths that reflect genuine and unshakable fearlessness. I aspire to such fearlessness.

When I was still healthy I was stubbornly independent and wouldn’t ask for help even when I needed it. That’s not a good way to be in the world because it closes off opportunities to deepen our connectedness to each other and community. Living with chronic illness is not easy but it can be a rich spiritual journey. I can either waste the time I have left feeling sorry for myself or grab this chance to tame my own mind and develop all of the openhearted qualities that are so important. As I see it, illness is an utterly profound reminder of what is truly important and of the truth and blessing of interdependence. I’m reminded of these things everyday as if I too were walking from home to home with a begging bowl.

For you who consider suicide

Note: This article is for readers who may be having suicidal thoughts now or who have had such thoughts in the past and are not in immediate danger of acting on those thoughts. If you are at high risk of committing suicide please call a crisis line now: click here for phone numbers. If you are an immediate danger to yourself call 911 now.

Living with chronic illness is sometimes an exercise in managing overwhelming grief and despair. Days slip by in a blur of pain and fatigue. Social connections and community ties drop away. Friendships disappear because we don’t have energy to maintain them. Isolation becomes a kind of prison. Everything is hard to manage. Limited resources – physical, financial, mental and emotional – are stretched to the breaking point.

Without support from family and friends our most basic needs may not be adequately met as our collective social safety net is eroded to almost nothing. Because our society places a high value on productivity it is unforgiving to those of us who are unable to contribute in the workforce. If we’re unable to work we may begin to feel that there’s no purpose to our life. Even in the best of situations hopelessness and despair can be frequent companions.

Any or all of these things can snowball until suicide feels like the only, or perhaps best, option. Our world becomes a claustrophobic hell of suffering and we just want out of it. In those darkest moments how can we resist suicide?

Here are four techniques I use:

1. I remind myself (over and over again) that despair and depression are temporary; eventually they recede in intensity even if they don’t entirely go away. No matter how much despair I may be feeling or how many suicidal thoughts I have I don’t act on them. We live in a culture that values action and when we’re suffering we may feel like we’ve got to do something, anything, to make it stop. No matter how strong the impulse I resist the temptation to act on my suicidal thoughts. Instead, I try to sit with and simply be with whatever is happening. I sit with the depression and pain, whether it’s physical or emotional or mental pain, and try to relax as much as possible. By relaxing even just a little bit depression and pain can become more bearable. The more we can relax the more bearable our situation becomes.
2. When I’m having suicidal thinking I reach out to a friend or family member so that someone knows what’s going on. It’s not easy to do but it actually keeps me safer. In the past I’ve asked people to make me promise not to hurt myself. For me that’s been a powerful lifeline. If I make a promise to a friend or family member that I’m not going to hurt myself then I feel a responsibility to uphold that. It’s a bargain I’ve made with someone else that I feel a need to adhere to. It’s important to remember that the person we reach out to wants to be there for us. Our life matters to them even if, in the moment of our worst depression or despair, it no longer matters to us. Eventually we will value our life again and then we’ll be grateful that we reached out for help.
3. Over many years of working with severe depression I’ve learned to think of it as something that is completely impersonal. I try to see depression, to relate to it and experience it, as if it were nothing worse than a temporary weather system that’s set in – a long stretch of gloomy rainy days that will eventually lift and move on. This technique is similar to the first point above because it involves a willingness to simply be with what’s happening, to relax with it and wait it out.
4. Whenever we resist the urge to commit suicide – and instead protect our own lives – it becomes easier for others to do the same. No matter how depressed I am I keep resisting suicide in order to help other people. It’s well known that suicide runs in families and can span multiple generations. As my therapist once said, “suicide is a terrible family legacy.” Suicides often come in clusters within the larger community as well. When a person takes their own life it increases the risk that another person – whether a family member or stranger – may do the same. By resisting suicide we may actually save another person’s life. We may even save the life of one of our own future descendents or relatives. And that’s worth doing.

One day when I was in particular pain and thinking about suicide it occurred to me that if I’m really willing to take my life then I ought to be able to find the courage to face my life. It really helped. I had this sense of fearlessness. Because at that point, when I’m willing to end my life, then I’ve got nothing to lose. So why not continue to live? When there’s nothing to lose that means we’re beyond hope – we’re experiencing hopelessness – but since hope and fear always go together like two sides of a coin that means we’re also beyond fear. We can be fearless. At least for a little while we can experience that. We can have a taste of what that’s like.

When there’s nothing to lose what’s actually left is kindness and compassion. We can experience what it’s like to have a fearless kindness and compassion for ourselves. Love, compassion and kindness have always been the most important things. So we have this amazing chance; we have this precious opportunity to extend kindness to ourselves and to others no matter what’s happening, no matter how sick we may be, no matter how much pain we may be in. What does that look like? It’s just as simple as a smile. Of course we can’t smile all of the time, but if we smile once in a while that’s good enough.

Years ago a friend sent me a card with a famous saying from the Talmud: “And whoever saves a life, it is considered as if he [or she] saved an entire world.” The life we save can be our own. Our life, no matter how seemingly ordinary, is a miracle and the smile we share with another may end up traveling around the world. If we aren’t here to share that smile when it’s our turn to pass it along it will never reach the next person who needs it.