Go Where You're Invited

At the Recovery Dharma meeting this past week, the opening meditation was the equanimity meditation, emphasizing that our own happiness and suffering is our responsibility, and the happiness and suffering of others is a result of their own actions, and out of our hands. This manifest truth is sometimes used by narcissists and other assorted fuckers as an excuse to be a dick (the kind of bad faith framework in which one might utter, or hear, "I am sorry if I hurt you.") But, even so, as difficult as it is for me to accept, it is manifestly true. 

In the midst of the 30 minute meditation, I got a little more clarity on bad boundaries, leaky intentions, yearning for a change in attitude or behavior from others, and several different precarious dynamics. The etymology of "precarious" has been on my mind lately: 

precarious (adj.)

1640s, a legal word, "held through the favor of another," from Latin precarius "obtained by asking or praying," from prex (genitive precis) "entreaty, prayer" (from PIE root *prek- "to ask, entreat"). Notion of "dependent on the will of another" led to extended sense "risky, dangerous, uncertain" (1680s). "No word is more unskillfully used than this with its derivatives. It is used for uncertain in all its senses; but it only means uncertain, as dependent on others ..." [Johnson]. Related: Precariously; precariousness.

Then, during the discussion, I stumbled on a very simple motto I can use as a kind of weather vane: "Go where you're invited." It helped clarify a lot of my agitated struggles, and made obvious to me that I get tangled when I invite myself, chase, or hang my hopes on an invitation that is absent. Or try to manipulate my way into an invitation. Instead, I am imagining an open space, a space welcoming me, a person eager to see me, arms wide. What if I completely shifted my energy so that I was moving in that way, only toward where I have been invited? Only toward where I am welcomed, into available situations? 

Of course, anxiety rises right away. Fear of abandonment, loneliness, of never being invited anywhere, by anyone. Ever. So, worst case scenario, I'm alone. But at least, alone, I am not hoping, striving, seeking approval, wishing, or worse, interposing myself into someone else's life or into an untenable work situation or whatever, where there really is only tolerance at best, for whatever reason, and definitely not an invitation. 

This framework also has me examining who I invite, and why. And why do I tolerate when I don't want to invite? Forcing a welcome when I am not interested. Or pretending to not be inviting when I am very interested. Which invitations do I turn down and why? All of these layers of armor and levels of self protection. What do they get me? 

In the one day between starting to reflect on the phrase "go where you're invited" and now, I've been invited to Santa Fe, dinner locally, a conversation with a former student about addiction, Guadalajara, Guanajuato, Oaxaca, a possible teaching job, and San Diego. These have all been as authentic an invitation as I can imagine. In one day. I guess these invitations have been happening all my life and I just wasn't thinking of them this way. 

There's a singularity sometimes that poses a challenge, where there's one person one wishes would offer an invitation, and does not, or simply cannot, and in contrast, all of the other invitations, as fascinating as they may be, are not that one invitation for which one ardently wishes. I can imagine intentionally moving past that through a slight exertion of will, or what sometimes feels like an extreme exertion of will. Either way, if invited, it's possible to be discriminating, to say no. If I am inviting myself, I instantly create a precarious situation, and have put myself outside of my circle of personal control or influence. 

The equanimity meditation also helped me re-center being heartbroken. I still resort to seeing that as a problem to be solved. Something I have to move beyond. Something I have to find a way to remedy. Instead, I am being invited to the experience. It is what it is. The other phrase that has been floating around is "living with heartbreak." Living with it. Maybe not friends, but allowing space for it, allowing at least co-existence. Nothing to be done, nothing to hurry along. No way to force it this way or that way. Living with it. The what if thinking kicks in there also—what if I always feel this way and never feel differently? It's so automatic for me, the negative what if. 

It is strange to note that if I simply make space, and say "all right, I guess I am just living with these feelings," their searing power is greatly reduced. Acceptance is a lot of things that I don't even begin to understand, but one aspect, for certain, is just living with how I feel. And it is often noticeable how my resistance inflames the pain. 

I am also reflecting on how to be ready for invitations. It seems cool that, if I am not inviting myself and putting myself in precarious jams, maybe I will be much more ready for invitations that are good for me. I think sometimes I even miss invitations, because I characterize them differently somehow. 

But for now, the experiment is, go where I'm invited.