"Waking": Part 2

So, now I come to the point where Matt has divulged the dangers of the silence.  I must admit I’ve never read anything that so acutely describes what I have always viewed as indescribable to those who have not experienced it.  However, perhaps it is still that way for anyone who has not experienced it, and the only reason I understand it is because I have.  Nevertheless, I appreciate his attempt to give words to something I have always avoided. 

Matt’s analogy of the dark room was particularly powerful for me.  The sentence, “and the world might reveal itself once again, only darker” was one I loved because, while choosing the word “darker” gives the analogy a pessimistic connotation, I do not believe that was the way Matt intended his readers to interpret it.  

When one’s world it turned on it’s head, and the future is one of the unknown, darkness is the perfect metaphor.  We all know the feeling of aimlessly grasping the dark, desperately looking for a way to find some source of light, so that we might be able to make our way again.  That’s exactly what Matt was trying to do with his life.  It would be naive to view his situation as anything other than a struggle.  He had to find a way to start over, and, at least at first, was not given the tools to do so.  But more so than any of these explanations, I believe Matt used this analogy to convey the importance of the fact that his life would never be the same.  No matter how he learned to deal with the darkness, the room would always be dark from the day of his accident onward, and this is not necessarily a bad thing.  Nor is it a good thing.  It is just they way things are for him.  His accident imprinted on him a new way of life, a new way of viewing the world, and there was no return to the light for him.  What I love is his decision to embrace the darkness rather than fight it. 

“If I wanted to work with the darkness rather than against it...what if the darkness (the silence) is a fundamental part of us, of our consciousness.  How do we overcome an essential aspect of what we are” (128).

Matt’s choice to work with the darkness forces me to think about two things.  First, we choose who we will be after trauma, and this choice is vital to our survival.  The question of identity is one that we as humans innately struggle with, but what happens when the identity we have spent so much time building is stripped from us?  We are left with deciding where will go from that moment on since, as much as we try to prove otherwise, there is no turning back to the person we were before.  Therefore, there are two options: denial of this fact (or a turn to silence) or an acceptance of the fact that this new future must merge with the remnants of our old self to create a new, whole individual. 

Second, for those that have not tapped into silence through trauma and therefore might not even be aware of its existence, how is it that we learn to positively tap into it.  But this is an answer for which I am still waiting. 

"Waking": Part 1

I relate to Matt in a lot of ways I wasn’t expecting. The closest I’ve ever come to his physical pain is broken bones, and I have never lost a member of my immediate family.  However, when Matt talks about silence, about mentally separating oneself from their surroundings, I know exactly what he is talking about. 

While Matt’s experience of silence, at least so far, seems to be primarily separation from his physical body, my own experience was a separation more like his mother’s.  One of personal, emotional, and even relational silence.  Like Matt, this silence came about as a natural defense mechanism rather than a conscious decision.  The habit of turning inward had imposed itself upon my life before I could really realize what I was doing, never mind understanding why I was doing it.  Only looking back on it can I attempt to fully analyze the experience.  

What’s interesting is I first disagreed with Matt’s definition of silence as both extremely filling and extremely empty.  While going through it, I only realized the empty side of it, but there’s a definite fullness to it as well.  For one, there are fleeting feelings of wholeness of your individual self when you turn entirely inward.  There is also the fullness felt when you give yourself up to complete concentration, and there is the feeling of protection when the only person you are depending on is yourself.  Unfortunately, all of these pros have counterparts, at least with the kind of silence I have experienced.  

I have been told numerous times that we cannot grasp the fullness and entirety of God’s wholeness until we realize our own brokenness and devastation.  This, to me, is the best analogy of realizing your individual self through silence.  It is grasped for a second, only to come back to the reality of humanity’s constant state of depravity. 

Much like grasping this last concept, concentration is fleeting.  We all have at least one thing that causes this silence; the one activity in life that absorbs us, causing us to forget there is a world outside of that moment we are participating in.  For some it is reading, others sports, and so on.  Matt seems to be suggesting, although I have not gotten to this point somewhat purposefully, that this silence, this moment of disconnection (and therefore connection with your entire being), can be controlled, and thus extended.  This seems amazing once you really grasp what silence is; however, I have found that there is a certain danger to learning to fully disconnect and depend on oneself, even if it is through complete concentration.  

We have all taken Examined Life I, so we all know the five dimensions of a person: physical, emotional, intellectual, spiritual, and social.  In order to live fully, we must develop all of these dimensions.  Perhaps my stumbling upon the phenomenon of silence instead of being taught it’s proper uses is the cause, but I found that the overuse of silence as a tool of escape lead to an atrophy of the emotional and social dimensions of my being.  I drew inward often, and while it lent me some peace and comfort in times of need, it cut me off from true emotional healing.  It also inhibited me from trusting others with my process of healing. 

All of this sounds rather pessimistic, but I don’t mean it to be.  I truly believe that something so powerful as silence as Matt describes it, can and should be used in an amazing way.  I am excited to keep reading and learn how. 

Tongue Twisted

So, this is really weird to actually type out, but the hardest thing for me during our yoga practice is keeping my tongue relaxed.  The first time I tried to do it I felt like I was going to choke, which is incredibly ironic since by relaxing my tongues I’m actually relaxing my throat and allowing my air in.  However, last class was the first time I was able to do it without it feeling completely foreign to me.  This was cool for a couple of reasons.  First, while it’s a rather small improvement, it’s still progress.  Second, it means I’m learning to relax and control the different muscles of my body.

I also struggle with biting my lip and tightening my face during the poses.  This is a bad habit I developed in high school through lifting weights for my different sports.  The coaches were always quick to push us as hard as muscles would allow, so to look relaxed was never a good thing.  Even more important is, by realizing I do this during yoga, I was able to noticed that I also do it when I’m thinking, especially when I disagree with what the teacher or student is telling me.  

I think everyone probably has some sort of physical reaction to things they don’t like to hear, but most of the time these reactions don’t do anything but antagonize the person they are talking with.  People are becoming more aware of the importance of nonverbal communication, but I would also add that if one is able to hold back the physical reaction during a dispute, one could more easily control the emotional response as well, enabling them to handle the situation more appropriately.  This is just a theory, and I’m sure it would take much more effort and practice than I am aware of; however, I think it’s a worthy goal to strive for.  

Intuition of Truth

When Friday was talking with Captain about how bad ways of understanding life become common acceptance, a lot of things ran through my mind.  The first, I'll admit, made me feel like the bad guy because my initial thought was, if she's arguing that people believe what they do blindly because that is simply what their parents and society has taught them, does she ever question her own beliefs?  After all, she was taught her lifestyle and worldly view by someone else.  It wasn't a stance that she came to on her own.  I wondered if, based on her own argument, that fact ever made her ask the question, "is what I believe really the truth?"  But how are we to answer such a question in an age when truth has now become subjective? 

I've often asked this question of myself when it came to my own faith in Christianity.  I've wondered if I simply believe what I do because it has been engrained into to my thought process since birth, and if the story is the same for one of my Muslim or Hindu friends.  If this proposition is correct, then what is the source of truth?  Can something as absolute as truth truely be subjective?  In some instances Friday seems to suggest that it is, such as when she tries to get the Captain to see that just because he deams the pen as a pen doesn't necessarily mean that is its function for everyone.  However, she adamantly proclaims her worldview as truth because there is something inside of her that tells her it is.  She uses that same intuition with the Captain when she asks him if he innately knows that drinking as he did was wrong.

I feel the same about my faith.  I read a book last year called "Blue Like Jazz" (which I highly recommend to anyone), and in it there's a chapter named "Penguin Sex".  Yep, penguin sex.  In it the author, Donald Miller, describes how mother penguins leave their eggs behind for months, and somehow, depsite being miles out in the ocean, they always come back in the week, if not the day, their baby hatches.  How is such a thing possible?  So far, it's not, scientifically speaking.  Miller describes the phenomenon as the mother penguin "just knowing", and that is enough explanation for him because it is how he now views his faith.  After years of struggling with his faith for academic reasons and questions of conditioning through his childhood, he now separates all of it and says he just knows.

Falty Seeds

I had a real problem with the whole seed thing.  I know we haven’t talked about karma yet in class, which means I’m basically arguing with a fictional character.  Despite this, I find a gaping hole in Friday’s explanation of why good or bad things happen to people.  Reading her defense was like a rollercoaster ride for me.  First, I disagreed, but was curiously as to where she was going with it.  Then, when she explained to the Captain how when the Sergeant lies for money, he isn’t really getting the money because of the lie but because of a previous good he has done.  I really liked that idea.  For one, it explains fairly well why good things happen to bad people.  I can except the idea that even bad people do good things at time, and that perhaps they deserves what they receive presently because of past actions.  I might also like it because it means that one day those bad people will be punished for what they are currently doing.  It was when Friday said that every bad event inflicted upon a person happens because they have done a similar action to someone else that she lost me.  There are just instances where that makes NO sense to me.

Let’s use the example given in the book.  The Sergeant’s little boy is burned to the point of deformity in at least one third of his body if not more, seemingly as a result to his father’s stupidity and drunken stupor.  If we were to follow Friday’s explanation, the little boy’s deformity is due to his own actions.  So I am to believe that this boy, who can’t be older than ten, somehow damaged another person through fire in his young life?  I know it’s just a story, but if this is really the true philosophy of yoga, and others really do believe this theory, I don’t see how they can justify certain circumstances

Stretching in More than One Direction

I am a very prideful person.  As much as I hate to admit it, I don’t like when I’m not good at something.  So, something this class has been teaching me is to laugh at myself.  No I can’t bend all the way forward or backward in any of the poses we do in class, but so what?  At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter all that much.  What matters is working towards being more flexible and less stressed, and let’s face it, me trying to do a shoulder stand is a pretty hilarious site, so why not enjoy it?  It’s a lesson I plan on taking with me outside this yoga class.  I think I take myself too seriously sometimes, even life to seriously at times.  Don’t get me wrong.  I know we only have this one life to live, and that it’s very important to remember that and make the most out of every day we’re blessed to have on this earth.  However, what’s the point of striving towards a goal if you’re not having fun along the way?  I’ve heard it said by more than one successful person that the journey to get to their dream was the actual adventure. 

Not to mention there’s something to be said about failure to achieve that goal or that dream the first time around.  Every time I can’t do a certain pose in class it humbles me, but it also gives me a new goal to reach and a desire to reach that goal.  I wouldn’t be able to get excited about or appreciate the ability to touch my toes if I was able to do it before.  It seems small, but big lessons can be learned from small things.

Wall Staring

I really connected with Friday's explanation of focus to the Captain, probably because that's something I really struggle with.  Yes, it's true I have ADD, but doesn't everyone these days? I feel like everyone says they do at least.  More than that though is my generational habit of multi-tasking that has insidiously crossed over into the way I think.  Even when I try not to, I am constantly bombarded by outside thoughts while I'm attempting to do something.  If I'm in class, I find myself thinking about my class after it or even the homework that's due the next day.  If I'm cleaning my room (which is a rare occurence, but we'll just use it for explanation's sake), then I'm thinking about emails I need to send or meetings I need to set up.  Even while I was reading this book, I was thinking about what would go in my blog for the day.  I can't remember the last time I gave all my attention to one particular thing.

When Friday told the Captain that those who are able to focus are not only better at their jobs, but they are also happier, I remembered in an article we read freshmen year during Examined Life there was an author encouraging the same concept.  He stated that there is no such thing as "mental exhaustion", that our minds are not capable of feeling physical fatigue.  However, we do fill it constantly and with pointless information, as Friday also points out.  The author suggested that if we as students would simply focus on the task at hand, it would relieve much of the exhaustion and stress we feel and enable us to improve in our studies. 

My question is, how is this accomplished, and is it even a realistic goal in today's world of multi-tasking?  Focusing on the wall might work for yoga, but it does not exactly help me when I need to be absorbed in my studies.