Introduction

Tuesday, June 18, 2019

Goddamned equanimity

The equanimity meditation via Refuge Recovery is one of the most difficult for me to settle into these days. As most of the guided meditations via Refuge are, it is extremely simple:

All beings are responsible for their own actions. 

Suffering or happiness is created by one's relationship to experience, not by experience itself. 

The freedom and happiness of others is dependent on their actions, not on my wishes for them. 


a selfie I took while meditating just yesterday, manipulating the cell phone camera via total enlightenment

Every time I choose a 30 minute guided meditation for the day (60 straight days yesterday, thanks to "competitive meditation timer with extreme data storage" Insight Meditation Timer on my phone- I am detached from everything *except* the meditation stats I am racking up)—I definitely resist choosing this one. I prefer the more personally dramatic ones such as the forgiveness meditation, or tonglen meditation. I resist the equanimity meditation at this point mostly because it is the best medicine for me, and it moves me *away* from drama and attachment. 

The first phrase: all beings are responsible for their own actions. This reminds me that I end in a particular sphere or locus of control, and others begin outside of that locus of control. That I am responsible for my own actions and that other people are responsible for theirs, and that there is a liberating and releasing separation between what I choose and what other people choose. I forget this simple fact quite often. The phrase provides an opportunity for me to do a quick inventory of how I have been trying to "get involved" in the actions of others, or blame them for my own actions and choices. 

This sends me back to one of the CoDA promises: I am capable of developing and maintaining healthy and loving relationships. The need to control and manipulate others will disappear as I learn to trust those who are trustworthy. (I feel like this should be two promises, holy shit).

The plain fact is that some people are not reliable. No one owes me reliability, but I owe myself clarity about the levels and degrees of it that I want. When people disappear, I do in fact begin to feel the old need to control and manipulate. To get them back, to make them pay attention to me. To be noticed or important. 

And so, the phrase cools me off. All beings are responsible for their own actions. Others are responsible for their availability or lack thereof. I am responsible for how I respond. Neither one of us is responsible for the choices of the other. In particular, it is crucially important for me to drop the goddamned story. I am so prone to wanting to know WHY- why do people disappear? Why am I "not important" to them? Why do I keep in contact with them when I know the basis of our interaction will a). always be under their control and b). not be at the level that I prefer? WHY. 

It is liberating and healing to drop the why, simply look at what is, and let go. In particular, it is a very needed reminder to me that *I have a choice in the matter* and that I am responsible for whether or not I choose to stay involved with people given the terms they have very clearly set. That is not "their fault," but is *MY CHOICE*. I can so easily forget this. Sometimes the disparity between what I want and what others are able to bring to the table are worse than others. There's "not getting what you want" and then there's the same deal in all caps. And it doesn't matter at all whether or not we are in touch, not in touch- whatever. It has no effect on how I feel or what I want. 

This turn alone is enough to make me want to avoid the goddamned equanimity meditation. 

The next phrase: suffering or happiness is created by one's relationship to experience, not by experience itself. 

What the actual fuck is that total nonsense? 

Having begun to let go of blame and rationalization, and having started to find the center of my life back in myself and my choices, this phrase reminds me that I have a crucial choice between suffering and happiness that I can make, that I do in fact have at least some power to make. I like that the phrase uses the word "created-" there's a generative feeling to that. For example, I can choose to suffer the experience of the disparity between what I want and what is, or I can choose to accept that disparity and look at being happy. Get closer to being happy. Regarding memories in particular—some of which still are unbidden, poignant, out of my control, and feel pretty much ever-present—I do have the option of lamenting that all of that is no more, or, rejoicing that it ever happened at all. Letting go with love and gratitude becomes a lot more possible for me when I recall that I can make that choice. It is not always easy or even available. Sometimes I experience being crushed by a deep grief and bewilderment and all I can do is just ride that out. But a lot of the time, I can mindfully choose. 

Simply realizing I have a choice in how I respond to memories is an excellent step. It may sound like rainbow unicorn farts, but it truly does make a difference. 

It's over. *It is not happening now and will never, ever happen again*. 

In the present, I can choose whether to suffer or be happy. 

Mostly. On a good day. 



The third phrase: the happiness and freedom of others is dependent on their actions, not on my wishes for them. On the one hand, this calls my attention back to letting go of trying to "make other people happy." That is a total waste of time. 

Most importantly for me at this time, I turn the third phrase more toward myself. My happiness and freedom is dependent on what I do, not how I feel, what I think or what I fantasize about or what I wish for myself. I need to be reminded regularly that I build my life out of my actual behavior, out of my choices. I live in my head so much and fantasize so much that this last turn is very, very important. It has provided great impetus to work on the dissertation, for example. What a concrete case of how it is my actual behavior that will lead to the end of that process, not my desire to be finished. 

Anyway, it's revealing to me that this simple meditation is the most difficult for me right now. For one thing, it brings home yet again how important it is for me to be in relationship recovery, working a CoDA program. It also reminds me that I very much value continued friendships with people who are not as available as I would prefer, and that that is MY CHOICE. I can reduce my availability proportionally, or stay open and available disproportionately, or do whatever I want to do. I can refrain from acting out or hoping, in efforts to increase the availability of others.

It also reminds me that the only way out of any of this starkly hellish passage I have been in is through. And that there is a graceful and self-loving way through, which feels like a tremendous blessing. 


No comments:

Post a Comment

This is an anonymous blog, mostly in an effort to respect the 12th tradition of Alcoholics Anonymous. Any identifying information in comments will result in the comment not being approved.