We spend our lives trying to get into a state of resonance. You might say that everything we do is aimed at getting ourselves into rhythm with the universe. We eat and drink and sleep and do drugs to feel right. We endeavor to control our environment, establish routines, indulge our habits, seek stimulation and connection. That is all meant to regulate and feel in step with existence itself.
One more thing this pandemic and the resultant changes in our lives have achieved is to help us loosen our grip on many things we have held tightly. Many are shaken at the fragility of our existence and how quickly our lives can change. Many of our modern conveniences have been taken from us or have been significantly restricted. We cannot gather together or freely walk into a store. We are being forced to practice surrender in that we cannot just compulsively attain comfort and convenience – the things we believe make our lives so great.
Ever wonder why we self-sabotage – why we continually return to our bad behavior or have so much trouble doing what we know is right? On the surface, it seems like there is no reason to purposefully do wrong when we know what is right, yet we continue in our self-destruction. This is apparent in our addictions: we are continually drawn to our “vices” which appear to have little redeeming value and obvious negative consequences: smoking, drinking, overeating, drugs, sexual deviance. Sure, there is a chemical basis for these behaviors that makes them sensually rewarding, but it seems like a lot of times, the attraction is more than that. It seems like we return to these sorts of behaviors simply because we are drawn to “being bad.” And it’s not just true with addiction. All of us, with no good reason, continue to do bad things, seeking them out despite known negative consequences. We can all but destroy our lives to satisfy our attraction to our darkest impulses. It’s as common as going to the bathroom.
Note: Richard Rohr has written much about the balance between action and contemplation, a common spiritual duality we all navigate. In fact, he is the founder of the Center for Action and Contemplation in Albuquerque, New Mexico. Many of these ideas are informed by his writing.
I have been thinking a lot about the balance between action and contemplation. I first learned of this precarious duality when I was in college (around 18 years ago) and it continues to be a dynamic push and pull in my life. Many of us struggle with contemplation, the practice of focusing inward using the many forms of self-reflection, prayer and meditation. We live in an impulsive and compulsive culture that values action versus reflection, so we are not given to this apparent inaction, but action without contemplation will be impulsive and misguided. Contemplation without action is equally unconstructive, however. Why do honest and deep reflection and then fail to act on the knowledge gained? A healthy life strikes a balance of action and contemplation.
There are many things that compel us. I would say we are driven from within by our unconscious fears, desires and needs more often than we actually make conscious choices. That is a scary thought – it means we are not actually choosing from our deep and thoughtful selves. We are just slaves to the forces ping-ponging around within us which are trying to ensure our safety, comfort and self-preservation. You are driven to work and do because you want to make sure you earn rank, esteem and reward. You are driven to eat and drink because you want to make sure you are comfortable. You are driven to speak or not speak to avoid loneliness, ridicule or rejection. Or you may be driven by the need to adhere to your moral code or other people’s expectations.
There is this space where you can hold yourself and experience transformation. You and everyone else have anxieties which drive your behavior, especially compulsive behavior. Your compulsive working, eating, talking and fidgeting are all moves to stop the feeling of anxiety or neutralize it. We believe that feeling anxiety is “bad.” If you feel any anxiety at all, it should be comforted or go away. What if you tried to avoid doing any compulsive behavior at all? Don’t look at your phone, don’t fill the silence with words, don’t think about “what you should be doing right now.” That is uncomfortable space to occupy, but there is freedom there. That space is where transformation can take place because you are not just fighting to get rid of anxiety. You are allowing it to change you.
So much of our depression and anxiety occurs because of our constant compulsive behavior. We feel badly and our compulsions crop up to try to help neutralize our pain and help us feel better. It is like our bodies and brains instantly want to heal us, but since these compulsive behaviors have their genesis in our brokenness, they do not help. They only serve to produce more of the feelings we sought to neutralize in the first place and more unwanted behavior is produced.
I wonder what the world would be like if we did not work so hard to avoid everything. So much in our lives exists to help deaden our senses: not only drugs and drink, but electronics and countless other diversions. If we really felt everything there is to feel, I wonder if we would fall apart. The world seems like it would drastically change if we just accepted and encountered the pain of our circumstances head on, as it is. But we do not. We anesthetize in order to avoid feeling too much.