I know a woman whose spirit is captured by the large circle of people who she was tightly connected with.

Mark Nepo, who has written some pretty good and easily digestible stuff (for those of us, like me, who aren’t the world’s best readers), says this: “Listening is being completely present to whatever is before us with all of who we are.”  First, Damn Hippie.  Second, I guess that “all of who we are” thing must include the oogie and difficult parts.

One of my favorite RAKs lately has been to try to slow down, be present, and truly listen to what someone is saying when we talk. Today’s RAK involved trying to do this with someone I have a long, often challenging, history with. My RAK was to sit with the person, try to truly listen to their stories and be as fully present with them in that moment as I could be. What they needed today was the simple kindness of someone Being with them, listening to what they had to say, no matter how trivial, no matter how far from the truth, to know they were heard and seen as another person.

Today’s RAK involved my trying to be fully present in that moment with all of who I am in an interaction with someone who in the past has hurt me. Really Hurt me. This person has never been, and never will be, able to apologize as they lack the insight, awareness, and most of all the courage to even know how, how much and for how long they hurt me. What do we with that?

I know this person’s history, their suffering, and that they are damaged, and how that damage has cripple their ability to function in relationships with other humans and filled their life with pain. After a long time I understand in my head (my heart feels this makes sense but is not fully convinced) that hurting me had nothing to do with me. It was all a consequence of hurt done to them by damaged people who were in turn hurt by damaged people, and on back it goes. I have compassion, empathy, sorrow for their loss.  And, at the same time, I was Really Hurt by their actions/non-actions. I have pain, anger, resentment, sorrow for my loss. A challenging composite with which to try to surf the waves.

For me, today’s Random Act of Kindness represented the core challenge we were talking about in Part 1; holding anger and compassion at the same time.  People who know me well would likely say this RAK is no big surprise, that I am “nice” and caring to lots of people, even those who treat me wrong (I am working on not doing that so much by the way).  I would say that while true (as we have established I am a “nice” guy after all), most of that nice is just me waving the nice banner from behind well-fortified battlements.  My goal today though was to be as present as possible while I sat with this person outside of the safety of those walls. This meant being aware of the parade of emotions that marched through, and even experiencing them. Yuck.

Interestingly, I find I can’t hold on to my anger at this person. It slips through my grasp and evaporates. I suspect it is meaningful (damn it) that it is the Real Anger I bring to myself that was the issue which arose. Let’s explore.

A couple quotes to ponder as we start:
**Jung- “The Consciousness knows no time.”
**30-Something Woman on the back veranda waiting for a show at the Kennedy Center for the Performing Performing Arts- “Mommmmm” Said in annoyed 15-year old voice.
**Me:”Your brain is not your friend.”

Our gloriously complex brains at the core are only wired to do a few basic categories of tasks. A key task is to answer the question “Why did that happen?” Most relevant to our discussion, “Why did that happen to me?”
Under times of relative calm, this is expressed as “Pardon me, let us apply some cognitive resources to address the question of why….”
Under times of stress, trauma, confusion, this gets translated as “AAaAAaaahhhhhhhh! Wha…..??? What the hell just happened? That hurt. Why the fuck did they do that to me??!!l!” Your brain begins to rapidly scan the environment to identify not just who did that, but (because our brains are gloriously complex) why did the identified Who just emotionally and/or physically inflict pain on you. This seems reasonable and adaptive, right? Figure out why and then make sure it never ever ever happens again.

But a problem emerges. Of course, perhaps I am the only one who this happens to, in which case I am deeply embarrassed I brought this up. So to avoid deep embarrassment, I am going to make a wild guess that I am not alone (no need to raise your hands).  The problem is this. When our Glorious Brains scan environments to seek answers to mysterious questions like why did someone hurt me the answer is almost always (if we have a fancy brain) “insufficient data” or (for the rest of us) “huh, no clue.” But our Glorious Brains do not give up easily. If the answer is not out there, it must be in here, the answer must be because “I did something wrong! Bad me! I am so angry at me.” The younger we are, the more likely we are to focus the cause of our pain onto ourselves, blame ourselves, to bring that emotional storm of anger into ourselves. But doing this is not just for kids. As I said above, your brain is not your friend.

To add to the fun, as Jung so eloquently notes above and the 30-something woman demonstrated so nicely, your Glorious Brain is delighted to turn up stream and swim back into your past. In a flash, we are children, teens, young adults, all the other “Me” we are that are most certainly not the wise, mature, centered Me we are now that we are all grown up and stuff. No, our Glorious Brain brings the unwise, magical thinking Me into the driver seat. Not our best ally in navigating intense emotions.

Now imagine the event that triggers our brain to spin and swim back into our history is an event associated with hurt & anger, an anger that your brain has assigned to you, an anger that whatever happened is your fault and was quickly turned inward. My goodness. I am fucked. You are fucked…….. unless…. unless… unless…. huh, seems we have circled back to the challenge of holding anger and compassion, this time for ourselves. Of course, at least for me, how to do this remains more of an aspiration than an accomplishment, but credit for making a start….maybe?

Let’s try to think our way out of the past. Wait, our Glorious Brains are not our friend so “thinking” is an odd choice of weapons. How about we start by being curious? We pause and notice when anger at ourselves pops up, perhaps this anger is expressed as self-depreciation, being our own worst critic, self-destructive behaviors, maybe subtle, maybe a spectacular Shit Show. (Does any of this sound familiar? Anyone else have a mean voice in there? Another wild guess that I am not alone.) We stop to notice this anger in its many forms and perhaps then wonder, just wonder, don’t have to make any rash decisions, but wonder. What if you slowed down and gently posed this question, “I kind of sort of wonder if this anger maybe might sort of be pointed in the wrong direction? I wonder if my brain got it wrong. Hard for me to imagine given how glorious my brain is but just for fun I will ask this question.”

At this point, it is anybody’s guess where the answer will take you, and I don’t know if this is any sort of clue for you. For me, and maybe just me, it is seriously scary (and confusing) to accept the answer if the answer is the anger should be pointed at someone you loved or admired or needed for you to be safe. Are you allowed to have Real Anger at those people? That seems like a bad idea. You are going to lose their love if you do that. Better you just accept that it is your fault and stay safe. But there is that Monolithic Tar-Baby, Real Anger, blocking the path. Fuck.

There is of course always a choice. Sit down, go back, or do the really scary sucky thing; entertain the idea that the Powerful Beings of Your Past may have hurt you, maybe even Really Hurt you, and the reasons had nothing to do with you. What if breaking your heart, dismissing you, teaching you you weren’t valuable, neglecting you, maybe even abusing you, all the hurting wasn’t about you? If that is true, then maybe you are innocent, and worth being treated with kindness and compassion. Wow. Might be a nice way to go, at least check out, but things can get really messy too. There are a lot of implications & consequences, some not pleasant. What should we do? Stop, keep life clean? Go see what’s the deal with the tar-babies, get sticky?

Lately, I have been wondering about a simple question with a hard answer; what decision would you make if you really liked yourself?

Either way, for me, it has become apparent that I need to take a close look at the other Monolithic Tar-Baby, Real Forgiveness. On to Part 3 if you want to come with.

I know a woman whose effect on the world continues to shine in the stories people share about her.

So I would love to pretend that I have a bunch of really great reasons for being a bit slow in posting. Yes, I am super busy at work being all responsible and pursuing Global Public Health Domination, been helping a dear family member through a rough time, I have even been sick (not mention that whole my dog is dying thing) but the truth is I have been avoiding truly diving into the topic I want us to chat about. I have been working on this for a few weeks but the picture in my head is complicated, hard to untangle, harder to put into words.  Still, as I slog my way through the lessons bubbling up from consistent random acts of kindness, it is apparent that there are a couple of sticky, gooey, tar-like issues sitting on the path before us.  How about if I provide a warning to you all?

Here is the warning.  “I want to chat about a couple topics that I find confusing so this blog will fall short and we will need to return to these topics again. Probably a few times.”
You: Don’t worry. We always have low expectations about your blogs.
Me: …….
You: It’s the secret to happiness.
Me: …….     You: Low expectations. Low expectations are the secret to happiness.

Okay, with that out of the way, I want to talk about anger and forgiveness.  I find that these are easy words to toss around, I do it everyday (“I am so pissed off at that guy.”  “Of course I forgive you, Sweetheart.”).  But, at least for me,  when I use anger and forgiveness in a casual day-to-day context, it is the equivalent of “How are you doing?”  “Great! How about you?” The terms are meaningless beyond the role they play in the important but lacking true connection daily dance of our lives with a multitude of other humans.  As RAK creates these pockets where my world slows down, I catch glimpses of how complex and deeply rooted anger and the challenge of forgiveness can be. As we peel away inconsequential day-to-day events and frustrations which make us angry and which we (on a good day) forgive while also not ignoring that place where you were feel the sting of the anger (I feel it in my heart….but then I am a sentimental guy), we are left facing these two monolithic tar-babies; “real” anger and the struggle of “real” forgiveness.

Yeeeaaaa, that’s more than a little unpleasant.  So why?  Why bother? For me it is because they are sitting in the way of where I want to go. Stupid, Monolithic Tar-Babies. Maybe not for you, which would be awesome. Feel free to continue reading if for no other reason that my getting all sticky and gross might be amusing.

Anger is not an acceptable emotion in most circles, unless you are a huge muscular male loaded down with some serious fire power who is unleashing some righteous vengeance to right a wrong done by people so evil there is simply no choice but to end their wicked ways via extreme violence. In that case, let that rage pour forth, Mighty Good Guy. Outside of that specific context, Anger is a troublemaker, not be trusted, not to be allowed to roam without a tight leash.

But crap, based on my last post, there are a number of implications that flow if we are allowing our own suffering balanced with the broader contexts of others’/Others’ suffering as well as the beautiful events in life. And this allowing means “acceptance” of whatever emotional response arises. Two quick notes; 1) acceptance does not mean take no action (If you are about to be run over by a bus, physical or metaphorically, get out of the way), 2) acceptance does not mean take action (if you are feeling so discouraged you want to die, you can acknowledge and not act on it. Believe me on this one. Been there.).

I think the big, and annoying, implication is that when we start to allow/acknowledge/accept our suffering as legit, and that suffering is only one current in a complex stream, there are now other psychological events/emotions getting in line for permanent citizenship. And they are a motley crew of undesirables. Anger is right there, probably pushing, shoving and making snarky comments to the others.

Let me share a story from a chunk of years back that I hope highlights one of the anger challenges. There are many, but let’s start here. An acquaintance of mine, who I used to cross paths with on a regular basis back in the day, was a Card-carrying Soccer Mom with a smattering of medium-sized humans in that tween to early teen range who was engulfed in the getting of said medium-sized humans to and from a multitude of activities. As any card-carrying Soccer Parent knows, the Carpool is the most logical and efficient way to achieve this, although it does mean having to regularly interact with other Soccer Parents’ medium-sized humans who sometimes are not as wonderful and talented as your own. This was a challenge for my acquaintance, in part because she raised her now medium-sized humans with strict expectations and also because it is her approach to many things in her world.

There was one…. boy? Young man? What do we call 13ish-year-old males these days? Let’s say “kid.” There was this one kid who increasingly annoyed her as the months passed. She described him to me as a nice enough kid (no bullying or aggression) but he was loud, disrespectful of adults (not mouthy or rude but joking & jumped into adult conversations), and dressed what she referred to as slovenly. He could be quiet and lost in thought on some days (these were the only days she didn’t have to fight the urge to pull the minivan over and yell at him), but most days he was filled with energy and the air practically hummed around him even when he was sitting still and not bouncing off car walls. Of course it was hard to tell from her descriptions what was over the top vs. high energy but “normal” medium-sized male human.

Either way, she had reached the point she had anger boiling under the surface at him and so disapproved of him that it became apparent to everyone of the medium-sized humans in the carpool, including him. She told me that she felt a little bad about this, but mostly she was righteous (Can I get an amen, Brothers & Sisters?!!) in her belief he was out of line and should be getting this feedback. Then a strange thing happened.

One day a few months later, we crossed paths again. She told me that through a series of events that lead to a police investigation, it was revealed that this kid was being sexually abused by a “trusted” adult and his home life was a nightmare. Despite how it appeared on the surface, this kid did not live in the same world as my acquaintance and her children. This kid did not swim in the same ocean, his ocean had monsters in it. This rocked her world. In the blink of an eye, her entire perspective of his behavior was changed from obnoxious child who needed training in manners to abused child who needed love and protection. He made her angry, and his behavior was an expression of events in his life. There was a reason for his behavior that was not that he was a bad kid. She struggled with this transformation and when we parted her disquiet and confusion was evident. She wanted a black and white place to stand: be angry or be compassionate. She did not know how to do both.

Much like allowing suffering while recognizing that it is nothing special, allowing anger and compassion to both be held, at least for me, is a huge challenge. I have come to feel in my bones that when people make me angry, hurt me, even when they Really Hurt me, they have a history that explains why. Knowing this I have compassion for them as a fellow flesh puppet, but what do I with this hurt and anger? Allowing anger and compassion to be held at the same time is something I don’t know how to do. I do know that somehow finding a way is important for getting at least one of those Monolithic Tar-Babies off the path. I suspect the other Monolithic Tar-Baby, Forgiveness, has to be addressed at the same time. Stupid Monolithic Tar-Babies.

On to Part 2 perhaps.

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I know a man who has suffered a great loss and is showing courage and compassion as he navigates painful and turbulent waters that are always down stream of such a huge loss.

My Random Act of Kindness related to the blog to follow was that I ordered gift baskets to be delivered after the Holidays for the four veterinary clinics that have been the primary providers for my dogs and cats during the last decade. A small thank you for all the caring and compassion they have shown these animals I have loved.

There is a quote from the 1992 Western/Film Noire “Unforgiven” which has continued to resonate with me across these 20+ years (although I recently discovered that I often misquote it…..correct message, just wrong words).
Little Bill Daggett (A sheriff of questionable morals played by Gene Hackman) has just been mortally wounded by Will Munny (A hired gunman of questionable morals played by Clint Eastwood).
Little Bill: “I don’t deserve this… to die like this. I was building a house.”
Will Munny: “Deserve’s got nothin’ to do with it.”

By my count I have had 13 dogs in my life. All of them were good dogs who had their pros & cons; Elly is my favorite of all time (Don’t tell Etta or she will come back and haunt me). This last week, on Tuesday 12/23, one day after her 9th birthday, Elly (who underwent successful surgery for mast cell cancer late last summer) was diagnosed with an osteosarcoma tumor which has wrapped itself around the C2-3 vertebrae in her neck, innervating the bone & spinal canal. Given the location and type of tumor, there is no treatment. The focus is on pain management, keeping her comfortable until I have to make the decision to put her down. We have a few days? Maybe couple weeks? I hope I will have the courage to not be selfish by forcing her to stay with me when I know she is suffering. I dread losing her.

I have been thinking a great deal about loss the last month or so. Cheery topic for the Holiday Season, right? Ho, ho, ho! Elly’s diagnosis brought the topic of loss into even sharper relief for me. Although I largely spent the first couple of days post diagnosis crying and snuggling with Elly, I also know how lucky I am to have been given warning of her impending death (Yea modern veterinarian medicine and me having access to it) so I could be mindful of the short time we have left together.

I am sure there is a larger message here about mindfulness and awareness of how short and unknown our time is with those we care deeply about and vice verse, but I am not in the mood to be that Hippie today.

It is the time of the year when we are obligated and indeed culturally-bound to review our year, assess our wayward behaviors, and renew our vows to be ever more awesome.

In taking stock of my year, it has been a rough one, adding to a string of rough years. There have been many wonderful events too, but here is a partial list among many difficult events from this last year: the end of a long term relationship was confirmed, another short but potentially wonderful relationship ended, friends died, I supported friends while close family members died, a close family member with whom I have a difficult history has Alzheimer’s Disease and has declined sharply (More impending awful to come), I put down 2 cats I had longer than any intimate relationship (I am sure that says both questionable and good things about me), lost a beloved dog to cancer, and have another lying next to me as I type who will not be long in my world. These words don’t do justice to heartbreak and searing pain associated with these events. Much loss, much isolation and sadness, much sense that important pieces of my life are falling away. I am in a Season of Loss.

I want to scream, “It’s not fair! Look at how kind, giving, empathetic, hard working, “nice” I am.”
Then Clint says in an angry, gravelly voice, “Fair’s got nothin’ to do with it.”
I want to break something and breakdown crying, “I don’t fucking deserve this!”
Clint: “Deserve’s got nothin’ to do with it.”
God damn it, Clint. Fuck you. Yeah, you are right…… I still think you are a dick when it comes to politics…. I like your jazz compositions, and you have some serious Movie Director chops….. But still El Dicko politically speaking….. And still right about that deserve’s-got-nothin’ thing. Fuck.  Sad face.

Given that he is right (Still a dick though), all in all it was a year of….. a year of being a human. Nothing special, and nothing less. The Buddha called it the 10,000 joys and the 10,000 sorrows. But let’s not get too Damn Hippie about it.

What do I do with this sorrow and the knowledge all this sorrow is not particularly unusual or special? Somehow I need to both not entangle myself in the narrative of this last year and those before, while also allowing the grief. And somehow I need to not entangle myself in the grief while allowing the narrative. A “WTF?” from you would be appropriate at this point. What am I trying to say here? Uuuuhhhh……how about this? I need to find a way to somehow fully embrace that my experience of this year was one of repeated intense emotional loss, grief, and struggling to find a way to not fall off the cliff and sort through all that rose from the depths these events churned up AND know, really know, that many other kind, wonderful humans also had a Season of Loss, a year of intense, bone crushing loss and grief, AND that the world is not defined by loss, is not a cruel place. It both is and is not about what has happened in my life. To some extent we are all struggling in our streams, some times those streams turn to rapids in which there is a real danger of drowning.

Where to start?  I have no clue if this will be helpful to you or even make any sense or even be helpful to me, but RAK has suggested some things to me (OK, Clint probably played a role too (Dick!)) and I am trying them on for size.  By its very nature of requiring me to be aware of Others and then to strive to genuinely connect with them, RAK has made me more aware of the suffering and struggle of Others, seeking ways to be present with them, be gentle with them, help in small ways while trying (emphasis on “try”) to reduce my judgments, assumptions and own…..”self-ness.” Ironically, sustaining random acts of kindness across these last 4(?) months has had the effect of making me more aware of my own suffering and struggles, encouraging me to be more present with myself, gentle with the myself, suggesting there might be value in stepping back from the judgments, assumptions and all the tangled, gooey, sticky, primordial soup that contributes so much to how I touch and sense the world around me.

A big step for me is to step back from trying to decide if my emotional response to loss is “justified.” Part of my struggle is that I “know” there are people in my life, let alone the World, who have had more horrible losses than I have, so how much suffering am I allowed? Hmmm, OK, so if I am only allowed a moderate amount of suffering given that others deserve more, then the suffering I am feeling is just me being selfish and greedy (taking extra portions when the Suffer Platter is passed around).  I am such a bastard….,but wait!  Look at how much that person is taking!  There is no way what happened to them is anything like what happened to me and they took way more than me!  WTF??!!!  Oh, crap, the person who “really suffered” is looking at my portion, compared to theirs.  I KNOW I am being judged.  Would it be gross to put some suffering back on the platter?  Does it now have Erik germs on it?  No, no, no, that would just call attention from everyone about how much suffering I took.  Maybe I could slide some to the dog?  What if I got caught doing that? That would be embarrassing. Shit, I guess I will sit here and feel bad about myself, and I vow that next time I will not be so greedy at suffering.

But, if I my experience is not worthy, if I am not allowed to feel this amount of suffering, why do I feel like I really am suffering?  Why do I feel so bad?

A Clinical Psychologist I have a great deal of respect for observed that loss is cumulative, trauma is cumulative. Among the implications of this, it means that our responses to a single event are colored by all the events that have gone before. I don’t know the history of those around me in enough detail to ever know what a specific loss “means” and how much pain is evoked. Everyone’s suffering is worthy of compassion and gentleness without the event being weighed for how heavy and painful it is or is not.  It also means, I think this is a biggie, that suffering is not a contest with some people being more deserving of being “allowed” to suffer than others when we assess the recent events in their lives.  There is no “right amount” of emotional response to an event. How we feel is how we feel. Denying the response doesn’t make it go away.  Believe me, I spent decades mastering that technique only to have a really gross, deeply infected emotional cyst burst. Let’s just say it was a mess and I have needed a lot of assistance in cleaning it up.

I think the trick, and I have not mastered this one, not sure I ever will, is to find a way to balance being fully present for whatever response you have to whatever loss you encounter with the core belief that your suffering is real and legitimate, but it is not all that defines your world.  Allow your self to be in that yucky, awful space to the extent that you can (and back away when it is too much) and to somehow know that this is a completely deserved response to this pain, AND also know your suffering is not special.  The good news is that you are not alone.

Please note that I am saying I think it might just sort of work this way, and it is a path I am trying out. I have no idea if it will work, and I can assure you I have only taken the smallest of baby steps.  Truth be told, it is hard for me to imagine I can find this balance, but I guess we will find out.  I can also assure you that when Elly dies, I will be a wreck.

But, hey! New Year’s and renewing our vows to be ever more awesome. My resolutions are to quit smoking (I don’t smoke so I always include this as a guaranteed win) and lose 5,000 pounds (a nod to the many resolutions that have never been realistic to obtain).
What are my *real* resolutions? I think, when you get down to it, I just want to be a less crazy person (while still being the brilliant visionary, hilarious, and “nice” guy I am). Less seeing the world through the ghosts and demons that roam the halls and cellars that are me; more able to really listen and hear what the people in my life, especially those I care about but others I cross paths with as well, are trying to say in their words and beneath their words; better able to be present with the horrendously awful and the amazing beauty this year will bring me because that is how the Universe plays this game. You know, be less crazy. If I fail at that, at least I gave up smoking.