Hi Peter, James and everyone,

Tee a great break down though I might gently push back on the idea that “the answer should always be hope, love, focusing on the positive.” In my experience, such an approach often turns back on itself, creating the very suffering we seek to release or allow to die.

thanks Peter. I understand your viewpoint of not even hoping for anything positive (or for a specific positive outcome), because that in itself might create suffering if it doesn’t come about.

However, I was speaking from the perspective of someone who is in physical pain, who lost a part of their health and physical well-being irreversibly, and who needs to adapt to and accept the new circumstances.

If I don’t focus on the positive – on what I still have, rather than what I’ve lost – it could very easily lead to depression and despair. Which is the end of the soul.

A part of my hope is that things won’t get much worse health-wise, because they can. While being in the present moment means not focusing on the physical pain, which I feel in that same present moment, but choosing to focus on deeper realities: on my true self and the joy that can come out of it (and does come out of it), even if it doesn’t include the joy of moving freely, dancing etc, i.e. the things that gave me quite a lot of joy in the past.

Or take an extreme example: of people being held hostage. I’d assume that they need to hope that they would be freed some day, otherwise they would have a very hard time surviving the conditions in which they are kept.

So I think that sometimes hope is necessary and desirable, perhaps more so when we find ourselves in physically dire circumstances, perhaps existential circumstances. In other, less challenging circumstances, perhaps it is advisable to stop hoping for some preferred outcome, but simply enjoy the present moment:

The act of dying James speaks of I think points to something different: allowing space in our narratives to remain empty. Not rushing to fill the gap with positivity or certainty, but letting go of the compulsion to replace one story with another. Sometimes, the most compassionate move for ourselves is to leave room for silence, for unknowing because that space can become the doorway to freedom from the known, and to the joy of simply being.

Maybe I’m wrong about this, but it seems to me that enjoying the present moment can only happen if we feel a measure of safety in our body and in our physical environment. And for people who don’t feel that, I believe hope and a positive mindset can help them relax in the present moment and not get overwhelmed by it. Anyway, that’s my take on it, stemming from my personal experience.

I also think we all approach these deeper categories, such as hope, faith, God… from our own vantage point, trying to make sense of our suffering and trying to alleviate it. What works for one person might not work for another. I like what Thomas said that Buddha gave 3 different answers about God to 3 different people (Thomas, Oct 10, page 5 of this thread):

When asked, “Is there a God?” the Buddha answered according to the need of the person. For one person his answer was “No, there is no God.” For another, the answer was “Yes, there is a God.”. And yet a third person asked, “What can you tell me about God?”. The Buddha closed his eyes and the person closed his. After a half hour of silence. The person got up, thanked the Buddha and left.

If I understood well, Buddha gave the answers according to what each of those people needed to reach the next phase of their spiritual development, and eventually spiritual liberation. For some it is letting go of all preconceived ideas about God, or what it means to be a good, worthy person. For some it is finding a deeper meaning in life, not only focusing on material goals. For some, it is getting out of the rat-race and appreciating the present moment. Stopping to smell the roses rather than mindlessly rushing to the next achievement.

So perhaps the real question is what is it that each of us needs in the next phase of our spiritual development, which can help us reach freedom from suffering. If our thoughts keep us in pain and suffering – keep us in the illusion of separation – then we should get rid of those thoughts, as James says.

If for example we believe that we need to achieve something or behave in a certain way so we would be worthy of love – that’s a lie and needs to be abandoned. If we believe that God’s love is conditional and that we need to be perfect in order to be loved – that’s a false belief that needs to be abandoned.

However, if our thoughts and believes are not based on the illusion of separation, and we recognize that we are already loved and one with God – then there’s no need to abandon those thoughts and beliefs. Cognition is what makes us human, neocortex hasn’t developed in vain. Clear thought is a divine quality, I’d dare say.

Getting rid of all thought is not the goal. Getting rid of wrong thought – thought that keeps us in separation and consequently suffering – that’s the goal, in my opinion.

Hi everyone,

Roberta, thanks for the story – yes, it’s a very good metaphor of how sometimes we trust that God would save us, while refusing to do anything to help ourselves, or refusing help from others who could help us, e.g. doctors.

There are cases (again, extreme ones) when parents who are a part of a cult refuse to take the child to the doctor but believe that God will save the child, and that it is God’s will whether the child lives or dies. These are examples of blind faith, where the person has relinquished any agency and leaves all decisions to God (or to God’s “representative”, i.e. the cult leader).

And I think it happens when we’re taught to believe that God (or the Divine) is completely outside of us, that we’re worthless, that we don’t know what’s good for us and can’t make good decisions for ourselves, etc. When God is everything and we are nothing.

Which I think is a toxic belief, because we all possess a “divine spark”. Denying it makes us prone to low self-esteem, learned helplessness, and on a larger scale, submission to authoritarian leaders.

Thomas, that’s a funny story about a mother who is calling for God’s help for every little thing, and then her own child telling her how it looks like 🙂

And yes, the classic: if we want to win the lottery, we need to buy the ticket. So true – we need to make steps and work towards what we want, and only then can God or good fortune help us and make our path a little easier, a little smoother perhaps. But we need to start walking…

Hola SereneWolf,

How’s that battle going? Feeling any better?

It fluctuates… I feel better emotionally when my physical pain is better. I still find it hard not to focus on the physical pain and on looking for ways to help myself. I think it’s normal… but I also know there’s this other part of my life, where I’m stalling, which could give me more joy (hopefully) – if I’d manage to get it started. Anyway, it’s still a battle…

Yeah, and now he’s doing better, but even though he can, he doesn’t do much physical activity to recover faster. He’s just on the phone all day, which is irritating. Watching short content also has a bad effect on the brain… but no, he won’t understand.

I’m glad your father is feeling better. It seems you’re upset about him not doing some physical exercises to help with his recovery. Do you express this frustration to him, do you quarrel with him? Or you can let it go?

Thanks for your encouraging words! But because it was taking a toll on my mental health, I went to Vipassana Meditation Centres (they’re all over the world) and omg, what an actually serene experience. I went there for a 10-day course — no electronics, no talking. You have to take noble silence there. You just meditate for 8–10 hours every single day, with a one-hour discourse in the evening. So good and so eye-opening.

They put a lot of weight on equanimity, and it’s based on Buddha’s way of meditation. I think you should check it out. It definitely helped me a lot with many things. My attention span is better, and for the last few days, I’ve been applying for a lot of suitable roles. Let’s see.

Wow, 10 days in silence, meditation, no distractions from the outside world… just you and your thoughts, and one-hour lecture in the evening. That must be challenging!

But I’m glad it helped you. It seems you’ve got a new motivation to apply for jobs and you’re feeling more focused. Yeah, I can imagine if you spend 10 days mostly meditating, with no distractions, your brain is really focused and sharp. Good for you, SereneWolf! I hope you get a job you like ASAP 🙏

Nope. Just the house and food expenses. And when there’s some saving, they spend it on some big thing, like a vehicle or renovation and stuff. So, although from the start, I knew that I’d have to handle and take care of the family financially.

Yeah, it doesn’t seem very responsible to me. Funny how your father was strict, scolding and perfectionist with you (if I remember well), but he himself wasn’t too smart or responsible when it comes to important financial decisions. He wasn’t really a good role model, if you ask me… But it seems he was counting on being supported by his children (you primarily) in his old age, and so I guess he didn’t feel that his behavior was irresponsible.

Yes, it’s not their fault. It’s generally the culture here. So yeah, it’s their old wiring. And not only that, but it makes me think — their love, is it genuine? Or is it because I’m fulfilling their expectations? Maybe that’s why I have trust issues in relationships, like, why would you love me without a reason? It’s hard to believe in selfless love.

Yes, it’s hard… there are so many expectations on adult children in India, starting from arranged marriages, not marrying into a certain caste, finishing a respectable university, getting a suitable job, earning a decent income, so you can finance their upkeep when they’re old… it’s incredible how many expectations there are!

And no wonder the child doesn’t feel loved for who they are, but for how they perform… parental love in India seems very conditional, unfortunately.

But that’s a distortion, it’s not true love. People shouldn’t have children to serve a certain function, but to love them and care for them. It’s unfortunate if the entire culture sees children as a source of pride (but selfish, ego pride, like “my child has a better job than yours”), and also a source of income and sustenance in old age. It’s quite utilitarian.

You’d need to learn what true parental love is. It’s unconditional. Even if you don’t perform perfectly, the parent loves you. They never withdraw their love, even though they set boundaries on unwanted behavior.

But you – your individuality, your person – is cherished. You’re seen as precious, as special, and they’re proud of you for who you are, not what function you fulfill for them.

But of course, that’s the ideal. That’s what a good parent gives the child. There are many inadequate parents all around the word, but perhaps in some cultures more so than in others.

So I hear you, SereneWolf. You’re asking what to work on in therapy:

Sometimes I just feel so overwhelmed I don’t even know where to start. Especially when it comes to self image I don’t know how to work on it properly.
That reminds me.. since you know my patterns well (honestly more than I do), can you tell me what exact points I should raise with the therapist?

I think conditional love is one major problem: feeling worthy of love only if you have a job and are bringing in the money. You said you don’t even want to date while you don’t have a job, because you don’t feel good enough. So the feeling of not being good enough is a major one. And it’s been engraved into you both by your parents, grandparents and also the culture around you. That’s something to work on.

And the therapist would need to have an understanding of unconditional love and what true self-worth means. Because if they grew up in the same culture and don’t see a problem with this type of parenting and what it does to children, then they probably won’t be able to help you. It needs to be someone who “transcended” that culture and can support you in reclaiming your true worth and self-esteem.

So the goal would be to learn to love yourself for who you are, not what you can provide for others. Of course, you’re a caring person and you don’t have a problem with giving – but when you’re only loved when you give, when you perform, when you fulfill other people’s expectations – that’s very crushing for the soul. And it kills self-esteem. So you’d need to heal that.

I hope you find a good therapist… BTW what was the problem with the previous two? You said they were very generic…

In the meanwhile, if you want to talk, I’m here… Take care!

Hi Peter,

I’ve often wondered why wisdom traditions, for all their depth and beauty, don’t seem to catalyze the kind of societal transformation they point toward. I’ve witnessed individual awakening, but once form becomes institution, something seems to stall. The flow slows. The tenderness hardens.

Ah, societal change is a big and complex topic. Something that occupies me, and saddens me, is that in the 21st century, we’re at the brink of WW3, or at least a war on the European continent.

We could speculate about the reasons, but I don’t think it’s for the lack of personal development and self-awareness in the Western world, but for other reasons. Perhaps being naive, appeasing the bully rather than holding them accountable, and becoming even more dependent on the bully economically, rather than seeking to reduce dependence. Perhaps that’s all a consequence of wishful thinking and fear (on behalf of European leaders), rather than thinking straight and being aligned with one’s true self-interest. Perhaps it reflects a certain passivity, both in thought (internal) and action (external).

Anyway, that’s just something that occupies and worries me, which I think is related to societal progress. But there are many more issues, which you’ve touched upon, where indeed the question could be asked why it sometimes seems that we go backwards, while we should be going forward and advancing as a society, as a civilization.

We live in a culture that celebrates transformation, makeovers, breakthroughs, revolutions… a world that privileges what can be seen, counted, and proven. Action, in this frame, means movement.

Inner work, by contrast, is subjective. It happens in silence, in solitude, in the messy terrain of thought and feeling. It lacks the markers of “doing something” that our culture recognizes: speed, noise, output. So we label it passive. We call reflection “navel-gazing,” restraint “weakness,” and emotional labor “soft.”

The way I see it, a part of the problem is that those who are loud and aggressive are the center of attention (which is largely exacerbated by social media), while those who are silent and contemplative, those who self-reflect and do the inner work, do not get the necessary attention.

People like entertainment, they like drama, they like individuals who stir strong emotions in them (or who give them excuse to vent their strong emotions such as anger onto others without being called out for it). Someone who is contemplative and self-reflective isn’t necessarily a good entertainer.

But more importantly, many people still don’t want to self-reflect, but would rather blame others for their problems. So the silent, contemplative, “navel-gazing” person may have audience (if they start a youtube channel haha 🙂 ), but it will be probably much less than some not so self-aware (but emotions-stirring and captivating) influencer.

We live in a culture that celebrates transformation, makeovers, breakthroughs, revolutions… a world that privileges what can be seen, counted, and proven. Action, in this frame, means movement.

If transformation is real and has come from within – and then it manifests in external action or outer success – it’s not a bad thing. There’s a funny meme that goes something like “Overnight success is a real thing. It just takes 5-10 years of hard work.” 🙂 But in all seriousness, I welcome that type of “overnight” success – behind which are years of hard work.

But there’s another type of action too, which is not aligned with our true self, but is let’s say to accomplish a goal that someone else wants for us, to meet someone else’s expectations. Thomas Merton said: “We may spend our whole life climbing the ladder of success, only to find when we get to the top that our ladder is leaning against the wrong wall.”

If our action is driven exclusively by ego desires, e.g. fame or riches or some other “earthly” goals, it won’t be beneficial either to us or those around us in the long-run.

My thought is that to truly understand action and passivity, we must integrate both objective and subjective perspectives. We must learn to see the invisible, to recognize that stillness can be strength and motion can be avoidance.

Definitely. Motion/action can be an attempt to alleviate the pain that can only be alleviated by self-reflection and inner work. If we don’t want to face that pain, we might engage in actions that numb it (all kinds of addictions and distractions), or we might punish and attack those who trigger that pain and bring it to surface.

I believe that actions that stem from avoiding pain – when that pain would need to be addressed instead – are not balanced, beneficial actions.

In doing so, we confront our biases about what counts as passive and what counts as active. And perhaps then, we begin to discern how those biases have shaped the way we hope, what we expect from change, and where we place our trust.

Can you elaborate on how you see our biases regarding action and passivity affect the way we hope and trust?

Erick Fromm suggested that unskillful hope is a attempt to flee from choice, from responsibility, from the anxiety of being, and in our flight, we embrace submission, conformity, and destructiveness. In Escape from Freedom, he named such hope as fear masquerading as safety, the seduction of authoritarianism…

This is a very rich thought… I wonder if you’d expand on it a little?

Dear Milda,

I never believed my interpretations, because I did not have even one person to support me and say that Milda, such parent behavior is not ok and they are actually manipulating you and you behave the way they want only, without authenticity.

That’s very unfortunate, Milda. Does it mean that to this day, there is no one in your extended family (grandparents, other relatives), who actually sees what is going on and supports you?

How about your therapist? Do they support you? Because not every therapist knows what it means to be a victim of narcissistic abuse (which you most probably were/are). Do you feel supported in your therapy sessions at least?

The problem with narcissistic people is that they behave very differently in public (even with other family members, who don’t live with them) than in private. They may appear like the most loving parents, or the most loving and caring people to the outside world, while only those who live with them know what kind of people they really are.

So there is an element of deception there, where the victim is not believed by others, because the narcissistic person tends to pretend in front of other people, and so it’s hard for those people to believe the victim.

Have you experienced something like that: that some people, including those in your extended family, don’t really believe that your parents are so bad, because they appear very differently to the outside world?

I think the biggest change internally started to happen, because by reading book “Codependent no more” interpretations of my family and this dysfunction started to raise inside of me and I started to slowly believe them for the first time in my life. My interpretations and gut feeling was silenced by me, silenced by scared, small me, because I had to survive and listening to those interpretations would not help me survive, so I silenced them.

Yes, for the child the attachment to the parent or primary caretaker is a matter of survival. The child needs to stay attached, and for that, the child needs to believe that the parent is good and means well. As a result, the child concludes that they are bad, and that they need to change so that the parent would finally give them the love and care they need to survive.

Another reason why we believe our parents’ interpretations is simply that the child’s mind is like a sponge, it’s very “programmable”. We build our self-image in the relationship with our parents. So if they treat us like we’re unlovable and undeserving – we’ll start believing that about ourselves. And if certain behaviors make them pleased, and they give us “love” and approval (albeit conditional), we’ll try to do more of those behaviors, even if it’s at our own expense.

In other words, we need to believe our parents’ view of us, in order to try to have our needs met: both physical and emotional. Getting validation and approval from our parents is an important emotional need, and so we’ll do anything to get that need met.

If our parents or caretakers were the kind of people who were never pleased with us, or were only pleased when we did exactly as they told us – we’ll grow up into adults with little to no self-esteem, believing that we are impossible to love, or undeserving of love. And that’s what I believed happened to you, Milda (it happened to me too).

The bloody work now is to give a voice for those interpretations, they still scare me a lot, I still do not know what to do with them…

Those interpretations come from your child self, i.e. your inner child. The task now would be to expand your awareness and your sense of self to also include other voices, such as your adult self, who sees things more objectively and knows that you’re not such a bad person as your parents (and your inner critic) claim you are.

I believe the best way to start expanding your sense of self is to develop the so-called observer self: e.g. when you start feeling guilty about not meeting your parents’ demands, to pause and notice: “this is me feeling guilty for not tending to my parents’ needs, but tending to my own needs instead. I have the right to tend to my needs. I am not a bad person for tending to my needs.”

You said:

Throw away old dictionary and start a new one about what is a good daughter, a bad one, what is a good mother, a bad one. This will be my homework. I think this exercise would help me in a road of unconditional love to myself.

Yes, you can do affirmations where you tell yourself what a good daughter and a good mother really means, to counter the false definitions and imprints you’ve received from your parents. That too can be a part of the objective, observer self, who is affirming the truth. This can help you not feel overwhelmed by guilt and fear whenever you don’t give in to your parents’ demands and expectations.

Anyway, the goal would be to develop this objective and compassionate observer self, which can change our inner dialogue and counteract the harsh voice of our inner critic.

❤️

Dear Milda,

you’re welcome! ❤️

Do you think that my first step has to be thinking about me as a child and feeling grateful for myself? For that little girl, that did her best but still streats herself as a bad daughter, family member, as a bad person at deepest.

Yes, absolutely. I myself am very familiar with the crushing voice of the inner critic, who is bombarding us with criticism, telling us that we’re bad, flawed, inadequate, or selfish, uncaring, heartless, etc – if we don’t do what our parents expect us to do.

There was a time when the inner critic was the dominant voice in my head, and my internal dialogue consisted of my inner critic berating me. I really believed that I was a horrible person, full of flaws, a freak, unlovable, unworthy, etc.

I believed that I deserved that criticism, since I exhibited some problematic behavior (I was suffering from an eating disorder), so I felt that my self-criticism and even self-loathing were justified.

It wasn’t until I’ve learned about the concept of the inner child – the pure, innocent and totally lovable part of us – that I could start loving myself. Because I felt that even if the adult me, the addict me, might not deserve love (which was actually false, but this was my reasoning at the time), the child me definitely deserves it.

And so I could start appreciating that pure, innocent, precious part of me, which was constantly criticized and berated by my mother, who didn’t get love, warmth and gentleness, but rejection. That little girl certainly didn’t deserve such treatment, because I was a good child, a good pupil, I was behaving well, I didn’t make any trouble for my parents… so I knew it wasn’t fair, I knew it wasn’t my fault…

And this is how I started loving myself. This is how I developed another voice in my head: the voice of a loving, compassionate parent – something I never had while growing up.

I think that’s the first step in healing: to connect with that compassionate voice within. So there isn’t only the inner critic in our conscious awareness, but also the inner “parent”. We need to become a good, loving parent to ourselves. And that’s how we can resist the onslaught of the inner critic and not slide back into guilt, self-loathing and repeating the old patterns…

❤️

Hi Peter,

you’re welcome!

Communication is hard, and you never quite know if what you think you’re saying is how it might be read.

Yeah, you emphasizing the inner experience, as well as saying that in the second half of life, your focus has shifted inward, made me assume that you like to spend a lot of time meditating, contemplating and doing a lot of inner processing work (which I called, perhaps using overly simplified terms, “rich inner life”).

You said:

I don’t think anyone would describe Bruce as passive, though I imagine he had a deep inner life.

I’ve got to say, Peter, that I notice a little sensitivity on your part when you talk about passivity. It feels to me as if you believe that I think you’re passive, and so you’re trying to prove to me that you’re not. (This could be just my interpretation though, and I apologize if I’m missing the mark).

Anyway, I just want to say: I don’t think Bruce Lee was passive, neither that you’re passive. True, when you asked what passivity means to me, I gave examples that more refer to external passivity. Like, not doing things that we’re supposed to do, procrastinating, etc. You on the other hand were more focused on our internal state, which you said, can be very much alive and active, even if we’re still:

I’ve experienced movement in stillness, and stillness in movement. What then is action… What is passive?
Bruce Lee once said, “The stillness in stillness is not the real stillness; only when there is stillness in movement
does the universal rhythm manifest”.
In this stillness, To let go is not to withdraw. It is to listen more deeply, to respond without grasping, to be present without needing to be seen.

If passivity means absence, then no, I am not passive. But if it means stillness, then perhaps… and I’m learning to welcome it.

Stillness, in this sense, isn’t the absence of action it’s the presence of awareness within action. A kind of motion that doesn’t rush. A kind of strength that doesn’t shout.

“Stillness is the presence of awareness within action.” – That’s a beautiful thought, Peter. And I actually agree with it. And I definitely don’t think that being aware and responding from the place of stillness, i.e. our center, means being passive.

So I just wanted to clarify that. I hope I haven’t misread the whole thing, and that I’m not trying to explain something that isn’t even an issue for you 🙂

Anyway, I wanted to share this to be completely transparent and address this small potential misunderstanding, which I feel might still be lingering…