i have this friend named andrea, she is mixed (but not mixed up).
one day she told me a story of a tall and thin black man
who went to the hospital to adopt an indian boy.
the black man adopted the mixed girl instead.

five years later it was 1972 and the tall black man and the
nice white woman could not decide whether to check one box or two,
so they decided to check none at all.
andrea did not go to school that year, not the black school or the white school,
nor the next year as a court-case ensued.

she entered kindergarten at the age of 7,
father bought her red patent shoes.
as the children teased her she clicked her heels and thought of home.

i have this other friend who likes shoes, but she likes what goes in them better.

i once wrote a little diddy with a busted toe,
and i sent it to her, because i thought she would like it.
(i think she can identify everyone she knows by their feet, only)
instead of liking it she questioned it, seeing the toe.

seeing the toe.

It’s not what you look at that matters, it’s what you see.

- Henry David Thoreau

tonight i met a woman with a busted toe.

she wore sandals, and the toe
wrapped in cotton and tape, bulged.
and her foot bulged around her shoe.
(her body bulged, too)

i was sitting on a step eye to eye with the thing, as if
i had to see it.
i said to her, quite honestly, “I see you’ve hurt your toe!”

she told me the story,
but what i heard was anger: she set the scene as June,
hot pavement, chasing a dog.
for five months she has been mending her toe, the condition
now warranting professional treatment twice a week.
poor toe.
poor woman i thought, with such dysfunctional pain.

this morning my daughter said to me, “mom, your toe is SO ugly!”
i was surprised to hear her say it, but i know
my toenails need re-painting, and this one in particular has
chipped off in such a way it seems to have a hole.

tonight, i was trying to think of no-thing, to sit in silence
and find my peace when i looked down and was reminded that
i had not re-painted my toes.
what a horrid sight (yet again) why is it i keep forgetting?
and then i thought of that poor woman’s toe,
and the sweet voice of my daughter.

You yourself are the water, you yourself are the fish, and you yourself are the net.  You yourself

cast the net, and you yourself are the bait.  You yourself are the lotus, unaffected and still brightly-

colored in hundreds of feet of water.  You yourself liberate those who think of you for even an instant.

-  Sri Guru Granth Sahib

]]> http://tattoozen.wordpress.com/2009/11/20/so-2/ Sat, 21 Nov 2009 04:13:30 +0000 speedyortiz http://tattoozen.wordpress.com/2009/11/20/so-2/

The old zen master Hakuin lived near a family with a teenage daughter. The daughter had a boyfriend her own age in the village and one day discovered that she had become pregnant by her young lover. Such a thing was scandalous to her family and would have ruined the boy’s family reputation as well (not to mention the fact her parents would forbid the boy to ever see her again) In her fear she told her mother and father that old Hakuin had been the one to get her pregnant.

The parents went to confront the zen master, yelling and angry they berated the old monk. “You filthy old pervert, you got our daughter pregnant!”

Hakuin did not respond with his own anger or try to cause the girl further grief, instead he only said “Is that so?”.

In time the baby was born and the parents again visited the monks hut, “Here, this is your fault, you raise this brat!” they scolded as they handed him the infant.He took the child as tenderly as a grandmother and said only “is that so?” to the angry parents of the young girl.

Haukin raised the child for a full year, the village had all heard the tale and looked with disgust on the old man. Occasionally someone would shake their finger at him or spit after he passed, the old mans response was only ever  “is that so?”. His reputation was ruined and he barely survived on the few who still donated to him, he begged enough milk to keep the baby healthy though.

Finally the girls conscience could bear her lies no more and she confessed to her parents. They were terribly sorry at their treatment of the old man and went right away to the old zen master. After being told of the girls confession and the dozens of bows and apologies they asked for the child back to give to its mother and her boyfriend to raise. Even after a year as the babes parent, Hakuin handed the child over without hesitation saying only “Is that so?”

The wind was flapping a temple flag, and two monks were arguing about the flag. One said, “The flag is moving.” The other said, “the wind is moving.” They could not agree, no matter how hard they debated. The sixth patriarch, Eno, happened to come by and said, “Not the wind, not the flag. It is the mind that is moving!” The two monks were struck with awe.

Mumon’s Comments:

It is not the wind that moves, it is not the flag that moves, it is not the mind that moves. How shall we understand the sixth patriarch? If you gain an intimate grasp of its meaning, you will see how the two monks, intending to buy iron, got gold. The patriarch could not repress his compassion for the two monks, and so we have this disgraceful scene.

Mumon’s Verse:

Wind, flag, and mind moves,
All confirmed as guilty of error.
Only we know our mouth is opened,
we do not know our speech went wrong.

Flapping Mouths turns the tarball neat and sweet.

Four Zen monks were meditating in a monastery. All of a sudden the prayer flag on the roof started flapping. The younger monk came out of his meditation and said: “Flag is flapping” A more experienced monk said: “Wind is flapping” A third monk who had been there for more than 20 years said: “Mind is flapping.” The fourth monk who was the eldest said, visibly annoyed: “Mouths are flapping!”

Mouths flapping. Reminds Chao Chou of when he was slacking at Damp Sneaker Sesshin. The hall pay phone was getting a lot of attention. No sooner did one zennie ring off, another stepped up. One fellow, after holding forth on a most spiritual plane, indicated he was “feeling totally complete” and went as far as bragging that he was calling from the middle of week long Zen meditation retreat. There was a quiet moment as he waited for an admiring response. And then he exclaimed in exasperation, “Well, sure it’s a silent retreat. So what?”

flying into New York City

One of the first Buddhist teachings I stumbled across was how as soon as we see someone approaching, we immediately begin forming ideas based only on our own prejudice. We make assumptions based on clothes, hair, style, skin tone… Whether it is positive or negative, we do it, without realizing it. Walking through the streets and avenues of New York City this week, the stereotypes of New York (or New Yorkers) that are commonly heard didn’t present themselves at all. People have been helpful, polite, and friendly everywhere we’ve been. I haven’t taken EunBong and Fina into any rough neighborhoods, but even in the busiest places, we only saw one person yelling at a cab driver, and I only heard someone call someone else an assh*le once. We still have a few days left in the city, but we’ve yet to see any middle fingers flashed out of windows of anything like that. My mind wants to compare New York City to Seoul, since that’s where I spend most of my time, and without saying anything negative about Soeul, New York seems quiet (you don’t hear traffic blaring), organized, relatively clean, and rather sane. It’s busy, it can be hard to catch your breath at first, but it’s an amazing city. I kind of see New York as a place of countless potential koans. You can make out of it anything you desire. When you’re done, go get a slice of pizza and a piece of cheese cake!

Of all the “New York” songs, I always thought this one captures it the best!

The Zen disciple, who had recently seen I, Robot,  asked Roshi Alonzo, “How about a robot? Does a robot have Buddha nature?”

“Lambda!”,

the roshi replied.

I believe in the betterment of your mental faculties. I would, too, being a rational and reasonably intelligent creature.

The more time you spend thinking about your philosophical predicament, the less time you spend thinking about the shit that’s going to give you an ulcer.

To that end I will furnish my reader with more food for thought in the form of modern day koans.

Here is today’s thought fodder:

* How much can I get away with and still go to heaven?

* If time heals all wounds, how come bellybuttons don’t fill in?

* Why is it that bullets ricochet off of Superman’s chest, but he ducks when the gun is thrown at him?

ROL

I’m going to retell a Zen story that I came across again on today’s calendar page. To me, it conveys how much easier it is to bear a situation if you don’t feel totally stuck and recognize that there is a way out (however unpleasant). It also gets me thinking about letting go, and how it’s so much easier to work with life if you keep your mind and hands open.

Here’s how it goes…

A husband and wife felt lost in an endless swamp of financial and social troubles. They could see no possible options to solve their debts nor their shame, and had decided that the only way out was a double suicide. They were just working out the best and fastest way to exit together, when there was a knock on their door.

An old friend had stopped by for a surprise visit from many miles away in the country. The couple welcomed their friend, and all three of them talked through the night about old times, about everyone back home with their triumphs and troubles, and all the things old friends catch up on. Right before leaving the next morning, the friend said how wonderful it was to see them and promised to visit again as soon as possible.

As the door closed, the wife turned to her husband and said, “You know, last night gave me a lot of time to think. It occurred to me that we can survive this, so long as we live with our minds utterly ready to die at a moment’s notice, should it come to that.” The husband replied, “I was just going to say that exact same thing!”

Camelia m-a intrebat ce gandesc eu, eu si numai eu, despre perfectiune. Am preluat centrarea si inscriu cu capul.

Din punctul meu de vedere, perfectiunea poate exista ca doua stari diferite: cea de scop, de ideal, sau cea de prezent. Este ori ceva la care tinzi, ceva ce vrei sa devii, sau ceva ce deja esti, in ciuda defectelor, a lucrurilor corectabile.

Ambele variante mi se par o idiotenie si o cale sigura spre nefericire.

Ideea de perfectiune neaga esenta umanitatii, neaga o parte a naturii umane. Ideea de perfectiune neaga exact ideea fireasca de transformare, de calatorie a omului.

Atunci cand perfectiunea devine o destinatie, presupunand ca putem ajunge la ea, presupune ca odata atinsa, toata calatoria s-a terminat. Nu mai exista nimic dupa asta. A fi complet inseamna a fi terminat. Omul ajuns la starea de perfectiune este vaduvit de un scop, de o insemnatate a propriei existente, este un om gol.

Pe de alta parte, ideea de a fi deja perfect in imperfectiunea ta, desi pozitiva pana la un punct, neaga, de asemenea, notiunea de schimbare, de metamorfoza a oamenilor,pentru ca… de ce ai vrea sa schimbi ceva ce e perfect? Cum ai putea sa evoluezi dincolo de asa ceva? Acceptarea in totalitate si neconditionata a propriei persoane se transforma intr-o lene hiper-permisiva, intr-o orbire a auto-perceperii. A face greseli, a recunoaste ca faci greseli, a trage concluzii dupa ele este baza evolutiei omului ca specie si omului ca individ.

In cele din urma, ca si concept, perfectiunea e extrem de plictisitoare. Daca turnul din Pisa n-ar fi fost inclinat, ar fi fost un simplu monument arhitectonic banal. Mozart a fost “doar” un compozitor genial, perfect. Beethoven, in schimb, pe langa populariatatea trezita de lupta cu surzenia, n-a avut talentul melodic al lui Mozart, in schimb si-a permis sa fie mai indraznet, mai revolutionar, mai titanic in creatiile lui si inca mai influenteaza muzica la aproape doua secole dupa moartea lui.
Situatiile perfecte sunt de asemenea, plictisitoare. Daca n-ar exista conflicte – interioare, sociale sau cu natura – atunci toate filmele ar fi inutile si neinteresante. Ce s-ar fi intamplat daca Batranul ( “Batranul si marea” ) ar fi prins un peste in fiecare zi? Cat de interesant ar fi fost “De veghe-n lanul de secara” daca Holden Caulfield s-ar fi inteles bine cu toata lumea? Ce fel de film ar fi fost “Fight Club” daca personajul principal ar fi trait in continuare intr-o vegetare vecina cu perfectiunea in apartamentul lui, inconjurat de mobila ikea?

A cauta sa fii perfect nu conduce in final decat spre o nefericire abisala.

“If you meet the Buddha on the road, kill him!” – zen koan

Mu!

Die japanische Antwort auf alles.

Eine erkenntnistheoretische Annäherung

von Fynn Jödicke

meiner großen Liebe Jesse gewidmet

Mu ist eine berühmte Antwort in Zen-Rätsel, sog. Koans, und anderen Fragen des Zen-Buddhismus und verweist den Fragenden auf die Natur seines eigenen Geistes, dem die Frage entsprungen ist.

[http://de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mu_(Philosophie) (22.10.09)]

Frage: Hat  ein Hund die Buddha-Natur?

Antwort: Mu!

Nach den Ausführungen des Zen-Meisters Daisetz Suzuki, ist das mu, das im obigen Zen-Rätsel bzw. Koan als Antwort gegeben wird, nicht in seiner wörtlichen Bedeutung, nämlich “nein“ zu verstehen. Derjenige, der sich dem Koan stellt, soll sich vielmehr “auf den bedeutungslosen Laut mu konzentrieren, gleichgültig, ob er nun ja oder nein […] bedeutet“ [von Fromm et al. S.64]. Das mu ist somit als Aufforderung zu verstehen, von einer Wirklichkeit Abstand zu nehmen, die wir als aristotelisch oder auch dualistisch geprägt bezeichnen wollen. Die aristotelische Logik beruht auf dem Prinzip der Zweiwertigkeit, das besagt, dass eine Aussage genau eine von zwei Wahrheitswerten hat, meistens als wahr und falsch bezeichnet [vgl. von Fromm et al. S.130f].

Die Aufforderung des Koans sich von diesem dualistischen Weltbild zu lösen, ist nicht überraschend, wenn man sich des kulturellen Kontextes bewusst wird. Grundlegende philosophische Konzepte des Buddhismus entstammen dem indischen und chinesichen Denken – Kulturkreisen, in denen wiederum eine Logik vorherrscht, die wir als paradox bezeichnen wollen [vgl. von Fromm et al. S.131]. Die paradoxe Logik nimmt an, dass wahr und falsch einander als Prädikate einer selben Aussage nicht ausschließen. Dieses nicht-duale Weltbild wurde von einem buddhistischen Philosophen Namens Nagarjuna im zweiten Jahrhundert in Form der sog. catuskoti-Argumentation entwickelt [vgl. Li S.87f].

Um das mu zu verstehen, das auf die Natur des Geistes des Fragenden verweist, wollen wir dem catuskoti folgen. Wir werden sehen, dass wir eine (schrittweise) Abstraktion der (beobachteten) Wirklichkeit und damit des Beobachters dieser Wirklichkeit vollziehen werden. Die Einführung eines Beobachters, nämlich in der Person des Fragenden, erscheint deshalb sinnvoll, da die buddhistische Erkenntnistheorie die Wirklichkeit einzig im Bezug zur Beobachtung sieht [von Egidy S9]. Als Theoriegebäude wählen wir die zirkuläre Beobachtungstheorie nach G. Spencer-Brown, F.J. Varela und N. Luhmann um nur einige bedeutende  Vertreter dieser Theorie zu nennen. Begründet liegt diese Wahl in der Tatsache, dass die zirkuläre Beobachtungstheorie die paradoxe Logik anhand der aristotelischen Logik auflöst. Um das nicht-duale mu zu verstehen, ist es somit nicht notwendig auf unser dual geprägtes Denken zu verzichten.

Wie bereits dargelegt, unterscheidet sich die catuskoti-Argumentation fundamental von unserer klassischen ja-oder-nein-Form bzw. der dualistischen Weltsicht und ist in buddhistischen Texten häufig anzutreffen. Sie enthält vier Argumentationsschichten, die hier am Beispiel des Koans “Hat ein Hund die Buddha-Natur? “ eingeführt werden. Unter Buddha-Natur ist, das vom Zen-Buddhismus angenommene Potenzial zu verstehen, das es einem erlaubt, selbst zum Buddha zu werden. Vor dem Hintergrund des erwähnten Koans sind die vier Argumentationsschichten:

1. Der Hund hat die Buddha-Natur. A ist [B]
2. Der Hund hat keine Buddha-Natur. A ist [nicht B]
3. Der Hund hat die Buddha-Natur und hat keine Buddha-Natur. A ist [B] und [nicht B].
4. Der Hund hat weder die Buddha-Natur, noch hat er keine. A ist [nicht B] und nicht [nicht B]

Zu Punkt 1 und 2: Die ersten zwei Punkte entsprechen unserem dualistischen Denken. Etwas ist wahr [These] oder etwas ist unwahr [Antithese]. Aber es ist nicht beides zugleich.

Zu Punkt 3: Nehmen wir die dritte Position ein, dann diskutieren wir über das Paradox “die Buddha-Natur ist zugleich keine Buddha-Natur“ (Dies ergibt sich dadurch, dass der Hund zugleich beides hat). Die Beobachtungstheorie bietet uns die Lösung dieses Paradoxes. Zentraler Lösungsansatz ist die Einführung der nächst höheren Beobachtungsebene, d.h. die Beobachtung der Beobachtung, auch  Beobachtung 2. Ordnung genannt. Nachstehende Erklärungen a und b sind gleichwertig, setzen aber jeweils an anderer Stelle an.

Pandora.com was playing in the background today while I worked and I heard it play a Koan that I’ve heard it many times over the years, but this time, it came through more like a bright flash of light rather than the usual somber, reflective mood.  I study Soto Zen which does not use Koans as a method of awakening so it’s interesting that I seem to find Koans everywhere lately.  LOL.  That dang Pandora’s box, you just never know what’s going to fly out of there.

I took my love, I took it down
Climbed a mountain and I turned around
I saw my reflection in the snow covered hills
till the landslide brought me down

Oh, mirror in the sky
What is love
Can the child within my heart rise above
Can I sail thru the changing ocean tides
Can I handle the seasons of my life

Well, I’ve been afraid of changing
cause I’ve built my life around you
But time makes you bolder
Children get older
I’m getting older too

Oh, take my love, take it down
Climb a mountain and turn around
If you see my reflection in the snow covered hills
Well the landslide will bring it down

If you see my reflection in the snow covered hills
Well maybe the landslide will bring it down

-“Landslide”, Stevie Nicks

What does it look like if the beginning and end of your learning curve connect?

I believe absolutely nothing – yet, I believe everything.

There is no “Truth”, yet – truth exists.

Life is extremely fair.

As soon as you see beyond what you have always seen, you can’t believe there was a time when you didn’t see it.

If you ever find yourself walking down the highway and a man in a whilte pickup truck pulls up along side of you and offers you a ride, you better get in the truck with him.  He’s likely to be the only one who believes ya.

Likewise, if you ever find yourself driving down the highway in a white pickup truck and you see a fella walking down the road with a bunch of feathers sticking behind his year, you better pick him up.  He knows where you’re going.

a magick spell, cosmic joke, & zen koan all wrapped up in one…

Click here

According to the proverb:

You can’t have your cake and eat it.

According to another proverb:

There’s no such word as “can’t”.

What happens when you do have your cake and eat it? And how can you do that anyway?

The problem is that the cake is a thing to be valued in itself. It’s a celebration, a reward, a prize. But to take part in it, to engage with it and make it part of your life, means obliterating it by eating it. To both have your cake and eat it is a logical impossibility, a paradox.

Well, this post is not really about cake. It’s about relationships between people. What happens if you both have your cake and eat it in a relationship? It creates a paradox for the other person in the relationship.

There’s nothing particularly interesting about paradoxes you impose on other people. The other person only has to look at the whole situation clearly, see that it’s a paradox, and explain to you that you have to make a choice: “one or the other, you can’t have both.”

But something particularly interesting does happen when you introduce a third element. Suppose there’s a rule that says the other person is not allowed to look at the whole situation, cannot deal with it by explaining it to you as a one-or-the-other choice.

In that case the other person’s problem becomes insoluble. There is nothing the other person can do. They are trapped. Faced with this kind of trap, most people disengage and freeze up. They may even experience intense feelings of distress, unreality and emptiness. The disengagement can cause amnesia about the situation they were in, so that they cannot remember the details afterwards.

That’s a very strange phenomenon. I’m not talking about mentally disturbed people here. I’m talking about people who are psychologically normal. Presented with a situation in which a simple paradox is combined with a rule forbidding looking at the big picture, perfectly normal people can experience feelings of distress, unreality, emptiness and amnesia that are oddly similar to severe mental illness.

Double binds

The kind of situation I have described is known as a double bind. It has three elements. The three elements of the double bind are created by one person, whom I’ll call the perpetrator, and imposed upon another person, whom I’ll call the victim.

The first and second elements are things that cannot logically exist at the same time. They are the bind. They create a paradox. A paradox is not a big problem in itself, because it can be resolved by stepping back and looking at the whole picture.

The third element is a rule that makes it impossible to step back and look at the whole picture. This rule is what makes a double bind into a psychological trap.

The effect of all three elements together is that the victim cannot act without being inconsistent with one or other parts of the bind. Also, the victim cannot escape by seeing the big picture. The victim can only disengage from the situation, disengage from reality.

In well-known example given by Gregory Bateson in Steps to an Ecology of Mind, a mother is the perpetrator and her son is the victim (p. 165):

A young man who had fairly well recovered from an acute schizophrenic episode was visited in the hospital by his mother. He was glad to see her and impulsively put his arm around her shoulders, whereupon she stiffened. He withdrew his arm and she asked, “Don’t you love me any more?” He then blushed, and she said, “Dear, you must not be so easily embarrassed and afraid of your feelings.” The patient was able to stay with her only a few minutes more, and following her departure he assaulted an aide…

The two elements of the paradox here are the way the mother expresses in words that there is love between herself and her son, while at the same time expressing through body language that there is no love between them. To make it into a double bind, the third element is a rule that, as a son, he cannot simply challenge his mother about her inconsistency. Instead, mother challenged him about the situation. The distress that this caused led to a relapse.

Some secondary characteristics of this example are common in double binds. The two parts of the paradox are expressed in different ways — one in words, and the other in body language. This is what makes it possible to make two statements that together create a logical conflict, without it being obvious. The entrapment rule that prevents the victim from seeing the conflict clearly is based on the mother’s higher status and the son’s dependency on her. These characteristics are not necessary to make the situation into a double bind, but they are often seen when double binds are picked apart in therapy.

Why would a mother do this? It’s because she wants to have her cake and eat it. She wants to be the kind of mother who loves her son and is loved in return, but at the same time she does not want to participate in loving her son for real. So the spoken message that she gives is that there is love between them, but the body language message is that she does not want to participate in life with him.

Again, this not wanting to participate is a secondary characteristic of double binds that is not necessary, but often seen. The commonest paradox is formed by wanting to have something but not to participate and make it part of life, just like wanting to have your cake and eat it.

Schizophrenia and other disengagements

The effect of double binds is to force victims to disengage from reality. Also, the more a victim is exposed to double binds the easier it is to cause that disengagement. So some psychiatrists have suggested that habitual double binds in childhood might be the cause of mental illnesses like schizophrenia, which involve a recurrent or permanent withdrawal from reality or feelings of detachment from life.

In schizophrenia, the patient feels present in the world but the patient’s world is not entirely real. In other possibly-related conditions, the patient’s world is real enough but the patient feels not present in the world. The hypothesis is that these difficulties come about because the patient as a child was repeatedly exposed to double binds in which disengagement from reality was the only possible course of action. Over the course of years, disengagement becomes easier and easier to trigger, until eventually everyday life and memories of childhood are sufficient to trigger it.

It’s not very useful in practice to hypothesize about childhood experience like this. Knowledge of double binds is much more useful when working backwards from a patient’s current symptoms. Suppose a patient describes a situation in which he freezes up and feels detached from reality. Working backwards, it is useful to look for a perpetrator who might have caused that by setting up a double bind.

A secondary clue to look for is when there are different levels of communication that would allow conflicting messages to be sent out without the conflict being obvious. And an imbalance of power or dependency is all that’s needed to create the third element — the rule that prevents escape.

The window

In a strange little book, Psychodynamic Counselling in Action, a psychodynamic therapist, Michael Jacobs, outlines the basis of the psychodynamic approach by using two fictitious case studies based on characters from Charles Dickens’ novels.

In his first case study, Hannah (Little Nell from The Old Curiosity Shop) is referred to him by her doctor (p.1):

Hannah perched nervously on her chair as the session began. She looked out of the window for a second…

In his second case study, Karl (Dr. Manette from A Tale of Two Cities) sees him after trying many other kinds of help (p. 23):

He turned to look at me…and I felt that his quick but penetrating gaze threw down something of a challenge. But then he shifted his head, staring out of the window, and continued, less hurriedly…

What is it about this window?

To understand it, you have to work backwards. The clients in these case studies both look out of the window early in their first sessions. We’re not told of anything particularly interesting out there that they are looking at. They look out of the window in order to disengage from their situation in the room.

What could be happening in the room to make them disengage? A double bind is the kind of thing that makes people disengage. A double bind requires three elements — the two conflicting messages that form the paradox, and the rule that creates the trap.

The rule that creates the trap here is easy to guess. Patients who come for therapy see the therapist as someone who can help them, someone more knowledgeable, someone more powerful. They have invested time, money and hope in therapy. They do not feel that they can challenge the therapist about the therapist’s own behaviour, particularly in the first session. So when therapist behaves paradoxically, the patient is prevented from seeing the big picture and dealing with the paradox.

What is it about the therapist’s behaviour that could be paradoxical? Jacobs doesn’t tell us directly when he describes his sessions with Hannah and Karl, but he does explain that one of his aims is to be as invisible as possible. Sigmund Freud would sit behind his patients so that they could not actually see him, and to this day there are psychoanalysts who will behave in that way. Jacobs does not go that far, but even so (p. 26):

The psychodynamic counsellor does hold back from revealing her- or himself, and so provides the opportunity for the client to imagine all manner of things about the counsellor. Of course, because the counsellor’s facial expressions can easily be seen by the client, he or she has to…prevent feelings being shown…

In terms of physical reality, the therapist is present in the room. At the same time in terms of human relationships, the therapist is not present in the room. These are the logically conflicting statements that form the paradox. The patient is trapped by being unable to confront the therapist directly about this conflict, and the only escape is to disengage and look out of the window.

Patients’ distress resulting from double binds in psychodynamic therapy is easily misinterpreted in terms of psychodynamic theory. One part of the theory is that patients find ways to withhold information from their therapists. This is known as resistance (the patient resists disclosing information). Another part of the theory is that patients come to see their therapists in terms of other significant people in their lives. This is known as transference (the patient transfers feelings about someone else on to the therapist). Confused therapists, whose own weird behaviour has caused their patients to feel bad and act strangely, often blame resistance and transference for what happens next.

Escape

Escaping from double binds is easy if you know how, but it takes some practice and nerve.

The first step is to understand that your mind will block the paradox, so that you will not be aware of it at the time. You might even find it difficult to remember afterwards. Therefore, escaping by resolving the paradox is not an option. This is the know-how that you need to escape.

The next step is to learn to recognize the feeling that you get when you are the victim of a double bind. It’s a different feeling for different people. It can be like an oppressive sense of the world closing in, or it can be like the world is far away and you are not really part of it. It might make you stare out of the window, not paying attention to anyone else in the room, it might make you very bored and tired, or it might make you curl up and sob. Whatever it is for you, it has the effect of making you disengage — it’s an automatic mechanism in your mind that cuts you off in order to protect you. Learning to spot the feeling fast is the practice that you need to escape.

The weak point of a double bind is its third element, the entrapment rule. That’s where you can break out of it. So the third step is to ask yourself the question, “What rule forces me to put up with this feeling?” — and then break the rule. The rule might be your own commitment, a decision you once made. It might be another person’s power over you. It might be a threat of consequences. This step often takes nerve.

Some perpetrators will react badly to having their victims escape. They might try to impose psychological punishments, including further double binds. By escaping you are telling them that they cannot have their cake and eat it. Tantrums are to be expected.

Notice that escaping does not require you to resolve the paradox. You only have to recognize the feeling and break the entrapment rule. You can optionally pick apart the paradox afterwards if you want, and in doing so you will get to understand the kind of cake that the perpetrator wanted to both have and eat. This might tell you more about the perpetrator’s underlying motives and problems, and it might help you to have a different relationship with the perpetrator, if that’s what you still want.

A little Zen

There is a Zen kōan known as Gantō’s Ax, (from Gyomay M. Kubose, Zen Koans, here as quoted by Douglas R. Hofstadter in Gödel, Escher, Bach, p. 197, and requoted by lemuru here):

One day Tokusan told his student Gantō, “I have two monks who have been here for many years. Go and examine them.” Gantō picked up an ax and went to the hut where the two monks were meditating. He raised the ax, saying, “If you say a word I will cut off your heads; and if you do not say a word, I will also cut off your heads.”

I have only quoted the first part. If you have understood this post, you can work out what must happen, and if you follow one of the links and read how the kōan ends you can see whether you were right. But Zen is Zen, of course, and it is never so simple as that. You will see that you were right, and also that you were not right. Are you trapped?

Koan practice is a Zen tool for removing preconceptions about how things are.  It uses what we call case studies or stories resembling riddles or puzzles or paradoxes to challenge our conventional paradigms. Here is one involving a Wellspring:

http://thebuddhafrog.wordpress.com/2009/09/29/a-wellspring-koan/

It requires a certain amount of maturity to understand Gandhi. Very often people who hate him and people who convert him into a `saint’, fail to understand Gandhi. Both of them start from the wrong end- his `ideology’. Even I did the same and was cynical of him. It is so very easy to be cynical of Gandhi. It is so very difficult to understand him, but then it is so very easy to appreciate his greatness. He had only action, commitment and practice. His ideology is merely an attempt to explain what he was trying to do and hence of little consequence to him. His action was his ideology. What he was doing is crucial to us, and once we understand what he was trying to do, we realize why is one of the greatest leaders of all time.

Of course, I’m fooling myself if I think I’ll never feel overwhelmed again. But this morning when my old reliable Pocket PC bit the dust, I felt a moment of panic: I won’t know what I’m doing! I won’t know what I’ve promised! I’m lost regarding anything having to do with schedules!

And then, peace. The sort of Emptiness that Zen Masters speak of. Wide open space. Wow, I needed that.

I have a clean slate. A new beginning; well, fall always felt like a new year to me, fall equinox, school starting. In fact, most pre-Christian cultures — those going by lunar cycles — have celebrations coming up.

Context: I’d been feeling overwhelmed lately. Even when I had an afternoon or evening free, I’d find myself worrying about what I’d committed to — taking Mr. G to the doctor, when would I work out, what seva was I doing at the Meditation Center, etc. Who’s in charge of my life, after all? Now that I’m doing a/v and communications at the annual Intensive next month, I told the other leaders that overwhelm was my fear. Veena called me from work the other day and asked “Are you feeling overwhelmed today?” Great zen koan.

I know class #3 of the Mastery Class is this Tuesday so I’m taking myself on an artist date to a coffeehouse to write my heart out. It’s not only rainy today but there’s a lovely mist lingering over the creek and woods outside my house. Very dreamlike and inspiring.

On my way home from the coffeehouse, I’m stopping at Staples to pick up an old-fashioned paper scheduler!

Artist: Koan
Album: Two Moon Butterflies
Release Date: 2006
Label: …
Genres: Chillout, Lounge

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

Download album: Part I Part II