The Invisibles – Things we Take For Granted

A few years ago I was visiting some friends in Germany and we were going for a walk along a nearby nature trail after lunch. There were five of us trooping along; my wife, our host, his two adult daughters and myself. On the whole, I don't think we looked too disreputable. You need to understand that walking after lunch – or dinner – is a very common activity in Germany, and there were various other people on the trail as well. I noticed a middle-aged couple walking towards us on the trail, with their pet Dachel (Dachshund) tagging along at their heels. I was looking forward to meeting the dog and getting a quick pet fix. I've been partial to these sleek little dogs since owning one as a youngster. However, as we came closer I realized that this was not going to happen. The couple kept their gaze stolidly a head and completely ignored us as we passed each other. To be fair, the members of our party kept up their own conversation with no indication that they noticed the other people on the path. Only the Dog seemed to give us a quick sideways glance before hurrying after his humans. 

Glancing at my wife, I wondered if she had found anything curious about the lack of polite exchange, and she returned my look with a shrug. As I waited for a break in the conversation to ask why no-one had responded to the other people, a younger couple came towards us on the path. They were in an animated conversation of their own, but they also offered no acknowledgement as we passed one another. Curiouser and curiouser. Just as I was going to break in on the discussion of what was and was not appropriate to decorate a Christmas tree with, yet another person came walking towards us. This was a middle-aged man, who immediately hailed Detlev – our host – and proceeded to introduce himself to us and exchange pleasantries with Suzanna and Lisa. "Ah!" I thought. "I see! It is only people they already know that they greet." 

Finally, when we arrived back at the house, and Detlev had told his wife about them running into Herr what-ever-his-name-was, I asked them why they didn't greet the other people we passed. Detlev's only response was an almost offended "But that would have been rude!" I didn't pursue it, but it did teach me a valuable lesson. It really hadn't occurred to me that something as simple and seemingly obvious as nodding "hello" to a stranger could be perceived in such different ways by different cultures – especially ones that seem, at least superficially – to have so much in common. 

This of course can be taken much further. There are so many things that are embedded deeply in our minds, so that we don't question them. For instance, we take for granted that "grass is green" and "sky is blue". It doesn't occur to us to questions something that is so "obvious"; something we learned so long ago that we no longer remember learning it, and yet there is grass that is not green and there are skies that are not blue.

We humans have a great capacity to screen out what would otherwise overwhelm us. Our limbic system takes in the huge amount of data from our senses and then passes onto our conscious awareness a small part of that data which we experience as information about our surroundings. If we had to deal consciously with the fullness of all our sensory input, we would probably not be able to function very well. It seems that we have a means of doing something similar with other data as well. 

I think that's about far enough on this train of thought for now. There's a big snow storm blowing in tonight, and I may have lots of time for deep thoughts tomorrow.

Intoxicated by Life

Driving my beloved wife to the airport last week, to fly down to Florida for a silent retreat, we were talking about her expectations for the retreat when she said something like "I don't like poetry because poets are just drunks expressing their intoxication." To which I replied, "well, at least some of us hold our liquor better than others." 

Apparently I've been keeping my intoxication to myself too well over the past few weeks. I will try to remedy that and provide more for the blog readers to scan.

A very Happy New Year to you all!

namaste,

Kenn

Post Holiday Catch-up

A lot has happened over the past few days (weeks?), some of which has excellent entertainment value. It was great having Lisa visit from Germany. It had been six years or so since we had last seen her, and eight since she had last visited here. So she got to meet our new house and many new friends. We had some of those friends over for dinner and I overheard one of them saying to Lisa, "Oh! You're Soli!" to which she replied, "no - I'm not. I'm Lisa." Her tone was quite deadpan, but I wasn't too surprised when I later heard her threatening to write her own version of our trip through Europe and come up with her own version of me as a character in her book. Now THAT could be entertaining! (See if you can pick out Lisa in the photo above.)

As I said though, it was great to have Lisa here and we were sorry to see her go. It's hard to really keep in touch over such distances, but you can tell the real friends by the way you can pick back up even after so many years and have such comfort with each other. I hope it won't be nearly as long before we have the opportunity to spend some more quality time together.

It is clear that I've had a bit of writer's block - again. This time

it took out the whole of the holidays - from solstice all the way through New Year's - pretty impressive. So now I will do my best to make up for lost time -and maybe even make it worth you're while to keep checking back in for updates. 

We really enjoyed Lisa's visit, but we are far from her only friends here in the states, so we had to share her with her good friend Marcie down in Tennessee, and then with Tyler and Gary in New York. She took a bus down to Tennessee about a week after getting here, so the jet lag had worn off by then. On the way back she was serenaded by a group of girls singing Christmas carols. Unfortunately they didn't know all the words and so the woman sitting next to her would chime in over her knitting with the final verses. 

I will throw in a quick announcement here too that Patricia and I are officially expecting a girl to join the family in late May. So far, her name is "Peanut" but that will probably change at some point . . . then again.

Honoring the Ones Who Come Before Us - As We Go Our Own Way

Lately I've been thinking about Systemic Constellation Work. My good friend Lisa, who introduced us to the work in Cornwall back in 2001, is visiting from Germany. This has brought to mind all the things I owe to this work. Perhaps most obviously, Patricia and I would not be expecting a child in late May, if not for the years of good healing work done with Heinz Stark during the two year training program and beyond. I have been able to see and accept my mother - certainly for the first time as an adult. This seems to have changed . . . everything!

However, while I have found the work to be of immense help in my own growth and healing, it is difficult to express this in a way that most people find meaningful, and so we find ourselves unable to fill even a single day workshop this last year. We have theories as to why this is: Poor economy; not so much appreciation of family in the USA; or, simply the fact that no one knows what we are talking about. 

In the process of re-evaluating how to go forward with our Soul Solutions practice, in the face of low turn-out, I find myself coming to some other belated realizations. This has been coming for awhile now. The keynote speaker at the last North American Systemic Constellation conference over a year ago was a very nice man whose son had been killed as part of a gang initiation. His response was to forgive the boy who killed his son. Ultimately the boy wound up coming around and helping build a foundation to support non-violence. This was all well and good, but it felt "wrong" for a constellation conference. For one thing, constellations show us that offering forgiveness attempts to place us in a higher moral ground - to make us bigger than those we forgive. We observe that it is not up to us to forgive those who harm our families. And so I was confused by how avidly people responded to the speaker and his perspective. Other than Patricia and Heinz, everyone seemed to be okay with that. Then there was the movement to use constellation work in order to decide where to hold the next conference. This felt "wrong" as well. It seemed inappropriate and disrespectful to use such a powerful and connected tool to avoid responsibility for making a choice. 

On top of these experiences of the last conference I have the attempt to bring Heinz Stark back to Ohio to offer his comprehensive professional training in Systemic Constellation Work. First I ran into a wall trying to get CEUs for the program, in spite of the fact that the very same training had been accredited by this same board only a few years before. Perhaps partially because of that, we were not able to find enough people to fill the training and had to cancel it. So not only did we miss out on having more of this quality of training offered here in the states, but on having more well trained facilitators of the work available to this marketplace. 

So - I'm not sure how to proceed. I know that this country NEEDS what Constellation Work has to offer. I know that there are few people who are well trained in the work and can offer it in an effective and meaningful way to meet these needs. But I don't feel that I am a part of the "community" of constellators in the USA. Perhaps I exclude myself, but I feel that the work is too important and too powerful to approach with less training than most people get before receiving their first driving license. On the other hand, I too rebel against the idea of putting Constellation Work under the oversight of yet another professional bureaucracy. As far as I can see, there IS no clear answer - and we will need to come up with a new approach if it is to be both effective and fair to all involved. 

All I have to offer at this point are these thoughts. 

Writing the flow. . .

Often, when I come out of Stillness from my morning sitting, I am left with a flow of creative energy and think "what a great time to go update my blog!" However, as soon as I sit down in front of the computer, I find that the creative flow has not yet resolved into a word-like substance. And so the updates keep getting put off until I actually drag myself into putting something onto the page. I use this self reflection to preface this entry, because I am still in that flow of creativity - and this is what is emerging. I am going to trust that it will take us all somewhere before I'm done. 

There are many ideas that occur to me during the day - and just as quickly disappear. I'm quite sure that at least some of them are brilliant - and just as sure that most are not. But whatever I may come up with while I'm NOT at liberty to write doesn't matter so much as what comes to me as I sit here now - or anytime I take keyboard in hand and grind something out. Now - just to be clear - I am not complaining. I actually rather enjoy the whole process. . . which leads me to this: While driving across town the other day, I watched a cloud of birds wheeling in the sky and felt a rush of joy rising with them inside me. I thought, "I'm so happy! My life is good. I am blessed with a wonderful partner, right livelihood, a safe and comfortable home. . .." And then I began thinking about how much of my happiness is based outside myself. Some much of it comes from my relationship with my wife, Patricia (aka "the Lovely and Talented") and I started questioning if there was something "wrong" with my happiness because it seems to be so based in externals. 

I took this question home and sat with it; put it on the back burner and let it simmer; and what I've come up with is this: Our happiness in the things around us is based on the choices we make, which in turn is based upon our inner dynamic. When my inner dynamic was clouded and wounded by past karma, I could not make the decisions in my life that led to happiness. Instead, I often chose things (relationships, jobs, experiences) that simply continued the state that I was in already. It took many years of concerted effort at self healing to be able to make healthier choices, less burdened by the experiences of my past. As I was able to make these choices from a more conscious place (due to many years of meditation, etc) I found that I was happier. Was that happiness based simply in the rewards of the choices I made? Or was the happiness the inner root of my outer experience? I suspect the later. 

When I am enjoying a beautiful vista and I feel my heart swell with appreciation, I realize that it is not just the beauty of the view that is involved, but also my capacity to appreciate it. The same is true with anything or anyone who I respond to with appreciation, love, gratitude or joy. When I make offerings to my ancestors in the morning and notice how much more strongly I feel them, it's not because they are any more present than before, but rather that I am now more open to them. 

Has it been mere fortune that allowed Patricia and I to find each other and to be so happy together? I suspect that it is much more than that. It seems to me that, as we grow and develop, we find those things in the world that most clearly reflect our own nature - and in doing so, we reflect the nature of those we find as well.

What I have discovered in this reflection is that the root of our happiness and appreciation of the external is still internal. It is our own inner Self that looks upon the world and sees itself reflected there. As we become more aware of the nature of that reflection, we grow in love and compassion, not only for ourselves, but for all others as well. Truly - to know yourself is the beginning of all wisdom. 

The Happiness of Things

What I had started out to write in my blog entry last time - and never quite got to - was that we were much happier as a people (or so the polls told us) before the advent of the consumer society. Perhaps a movement away from hyper-industrial production, mimicking a war economy, would actually allow us to return to a way of life that was happier and more fulfilling for those of us who are not making the huge profits from this absurd financial experiment gone wrong. 

I've noticed that when someone tends to hold onto things rather than throwing them away, people will say it's because they - or their parents - grew up during the depression. For a long time, I simply accepted this bit of common wisdom without question. Now I'm not so sure. From what I understand of the world before the Great Depression, people had the ingrained habit of conserving rather than consuming and discarding their resources. This was not because of any poverty or miserliness, but rather because they had not been introduced to the throw-away culture that we live in today. This was before built in obsolescence, when things were not only made to last a lifetime, but also to reflect the skills and aesthetics of the maker. 

We live in an older home, built in 1915, and its construction reflects these values. Even the radiator covers, such humble creations, are works of art - and have lasted for nearly 100 years. What products made today have any such expectation? Even the houses we live in that were built more recently have a shorter life expectancy. And as much as I love my Macintosh computer, I know that it is already on the verge of being obsolete after only a little over two years. If I want to keep up with the rapidly developing internet and software, I will need to "upgrade" within another year or so. But do I need to? Do I really need to?

I remember very little of my childhood, but I do have some surreal mental snapshots of being very small and there being a room in the house with some boxes piled on a couch. I suspect I wasn't allowed in the room, nor in the boxes, and so they took on an aura of mystery and treasure far beyond anything they might actually contain. I have a vague memory of creeping into the room - I must have been five or six years old - and opening the box to find a curved bronze dagger in a bronze sheath, something that my Dad had picked up on his travels. There was a magic to that chunk of metal that I've never felt from any mass-produced object of any kind. 

So - what have we lost? And what can we regain? I believe that this most recent economic crisis is nothing less than the long over-due response to an artificial economy, and that it can allow us - at least those who take the opportunity to do so - to return to an economic footing similar to that our parents or grandparents would recognize from their own early years. This would mean making some fundamental changes in how we live our lives. With a basic value on "conserve rather than consume" we could put more of our income into savings. We might take another look at things we spend money on and decide that we really don't need more than one television; a cable service with over 100 channels; a new car every three years; new clothes every season; gadgets that we are going to throw out in less than a year; or anything that we are able to live a happy and fulfilling life without. We might even begin to dismiss the idea that have been drummed into us by advertising over the past several decades: That we must consume in order to be a productive member of society. 

This is not to say that I am some sort of enlightened zen master, no longer attached to material things. On the contrary, I rather like my material things. As I was sitting in our Temple room with Patricia this morning, I was noticing how much I enjoy and am comforted by our "things". To some extent, this is because these objects express and reflect our shared aesthetic, and seeing them gives me an illusion of permanence. It is a way in which we extend ourselves into the world around us and claim our territory. With these objects, we say: "I am here! This is my space - my part of the ever-changing world." 

It seems to me that all of the pieces fit together. The throw-away aesthetic leads to shoddy workmanship and to a greater sense of impermanence. This also leads to people spending beyond their means, because they are told that happiness is to be found in having the latest widget, in the most popular color. And of course, it isn't. If the polls are any indication, happiness was something we found in much greater measure back in the days when we put our money into savings and purchased things that would last as long as we did; when our happiness was based on the health and well being of our loved ones; the closeness and companionship of friends; and, on our own spiritual connection with the wholeness of the world. 

Perhaps this crisis is a blessing in a this disguise. If we have to pare back our spending this year and focus on those things that are both free and priceless, it's not such a bad thing. 

namaste,

Kenn

Post Thanksgiving Ramblings

This is one of those rare days when I have lots of small things on my list to do, but it doesn't feel like the world will end if I don't get to all of them. It's days like this when I realize just how stressed I am a lot of the time - without realizing it. It's on days like this that I promise myself that I will "do" less and "be" more - and I try to keep that promise. But "being" me leads inevitably to "doing" more. Or so it seems. The tendency is for me to go into our temple room and sit, gradually settling into Stillness - and as soon as I've let go of the rush of everyday mind jabber - in that moment where the cosmic inner smile begins to peek through - another part of me begins to suggest how I can do this - or that - usually deeply spiritual things - anything to keep from falling into Stillness again. I have to smile. It's rather like a child who doesn't want to go to sleep and keeps coming up with excellent reasons why they should stay up. So I guess this analogy applies to when the kid has stayed up for a few days in a row - or when I've managed to skip my meditation for a few days - and then I fall into it like a rock into deep water. 

This morning I sat - chanting mantras and letting go of thoughts - staring at the Enso calligraphy on the Enochi altar across the room from me. When Patricia is sitting with me, she blocks my view of this card - perhaps even takes the place of it. But its image reminds me - as does her presence - of what is truly important in this moment. And I let go and sink more deeply into that.

It's a good feeling - the letting go of "me" of everyday nonsense that seems to terribly important - until I let it go and it's not anymore. I breathe more deeply and smile from the inside out. The wave surrounds me and I float. 

There are no words for the place with no words. But coming out of it, I feel - as usual - renewed, calm, and something like happy but without any subject. Just happy to be . . . here. 

I find the words of the One Center chant rising through me, so I spill them out, letting them take me out of the timeless place of Stillness. They bring thoughts with them - images and movements within me. I find myself returning to the dharma hall at the zendo where the chant was inspired. And other moments when the clarity - what I used to call the "inevitability of life" - has come to me with an assurance that there is some greater "something" to which I belong and that, when I relax into the flow and direction of that greater Self, my movement carries me toward greater awakening and other Mysteries which I do not yet begin to understand. This state of gnosis is a comfort to those parts of me that are committed to this adventure and I find myself thanking my ancestors and all other benevolent beings for this opportunity to Be Here Now. To be here with a partner who shares my thirst for this path, and who challenges me and supports me in ways that I did not know possibly until now. I thank them for the opportunity to become a parent - to take part ever more fully in the Human Experience. And I begin to think of our child, growing for more than three months now inside Patricia, who will be emerging into a world so very different from the one either of us were born into. I consider how many people believe that this is an ugly and dangerous world to bring a new child into - but we don't see it like that. Not that we don't recognize the challenges and take them into consideration, but we also see what a treasure this life is and what a joy it is to pass on this blessing to another. 

Thinking about the world in all it's complexity, I am reminded of a link that Patricia sent me a few weeks ago (www.storyofstuff.com) with an animated explanation of how things get made and the impact it has on our lives and environment. One thing that really stood out to me in that video was that people described themselves as much happier before we created the consumer society we live in today. It's as if the industrialists decided to make our happiness a part of their own equation of prosperity, and we are the ones who loose. They have created a perception that in order to be happy, we need the latest, sexiest, most expensive gadget, car or pair of shoes that we can afford. I realize that this is nothing new. Intelligent people have recognized this for decades. I was fortunate to have one of these intelligent people as my father. (Thanks, Dad!) He taught me that it was better to buy one really good pair of shoes that cost twice as much as the ones that were in style but that would last ten times as long and could be repaired rather than being thrown away after a couple years. (I still have a pair of wingtips I bought 20 years ago. They still fit and I still wear them.) 

What's different for me right now is that, since we're expecting a child, I am thinking about how I can pass these values onto HIr. In other words, I'm in the same quandary that every new parent experiences: How can I pass along my values and ethics to my child in a world that seems to contradict them at every turn? 

I don't expect to find one answer to this very large question. And I'm not interested in home schooling. What I do expect is that it will be a continued opportunity for our whole family to learn and grow together. And I'm looking forward to it!

namaste,

Kenn