Being Versus Doing, September 6, 2009

I’ve had a lot of encouragement over these weeks of grieving to be in “being” mode, versus “doing” mode…by people who haven’t seen my endless to-do lists. People who have seen my lists really think this is an impossible task for me…and believe me, it is not easy. I’m sharing below a letter of encouragement and explanation of these concepts shared by John Cunningham, a long-time friend of Craig’s and mine and our meditation teacher (along with his wife Laurie) as well. I’ve spent a few days meditating on these concepts since he sent the note.

What has emerged from my contemplation is that it is possible to be in “being” mode while “doing” things…what is required is awareness in the process of my emotions and to be calm and loving while sitting doing nothing. Note John’s comment about avoiding the thought that “this is a waste of time”! Baha’u’llah in The Seven Valleys encourages us to “seek at every moment to journey from the plane of heedlessness into the realm of being”. So, I’m dancing with all of this, having times when I’m feeling very much like I’m in “being” mode and other times when I’m just human and no way to avoid the long-time patterns of Susanne!

Love,
Susanne

From John:

I have been thinking of you, praying for you and for Craig and your family – praying for your unfolding process. As I read your blog, I envision you as spending this time just being – not doing, but being. You are a doer, so in a sense what you are doing right now is just being.

Being is such a different kind of process than doing. When we do, we apply energy and direction and skills and talent and results occur. We have projects and plans and lists and tasks and actions and results and follow-up. Each step can be gratifying – make a plan, get a little shot of success feeling; take action on the plan, another shot; cross something off the list or close a completed project, a big shot (at least for me). With projects, more energy (within limits) means faster and better results. The mind is in its heyday – focus and balance and mental stimulation.

By comparison, being can seem like we are idle or wasting time. The mind asks “Ok, I’ll just be. What do I have to do to just be?” It wants to do. That is its nature. But being is the realm of the heart – the mind cannot go there. As the heart opens, the mind gets quiet, and we move into that space of just being. For me, the feeling of just being seems to emanate from my heart center and not from my head. It is wordless and spacious, connected and universal.

How quickly the mind steps in to make sense of this world of being. It will comment on the experience, define and categorize it, evaluate and interpret it. It will claim the experience as its own and take credit for it. If we believe the mind’s stories about being, we see that being disappears into the shadows of the thoughts.

Being cannot be rushed anymore than a flower can be made to bloom. Trying to rush being is like dumping water and fertilizer on the seed to try to make it bloom on our schedule. The seed is more likely to die than to make a flower under such circumstances. All we can do is prepare the soil, apply just the right amount of nutrients, and then wait for the flower to happen. We prepare the heart with prayer and meditation, slowing down and letting go, and then waiting for the heart to open - to just be.

I think that grieving can be experienced as a process of being. To do this, we must pay attention to the experience itself and not to the content of the grief. We must be present to what is happening - how our mind and body feel, to its unpleasant nature, to its impermanence - and not to the stories of loss and what-if and woe-is-me. The heart is jolted and ripped, and yet we find it is very open if we are able to stay connected with it. The intensity can be too much at times. But at other times we are able to stay with the process, sometimes even welcoming it in. If we are able to look directly at the experience of grieving, it is much easier to stay with it than when we are caught up in the content of the grief and the stories it weaves in the mind - at least this is my own experience.

Grieving is like a vapor in the air - thick and heavy at times, thin and transparent at others. It coalesces around our stories – a special place, a particular date, a certain setting. I remember about 3 years ago I was in North Olmsted after a summer storm. The road ahead was blocked off by the police. I could see that a large tree had fallen over and there was an ambulance with its lights flashing close to the tree. I immediately broke into tears, even though Janet had been gone for more than 10 years. [His sister Janet was struck by a falling tree branch and killed.]

I guess I am writing all this to you as a form of support for your process of just being at this point. Not as a project to deal with the grief, or to move on with your life, but just being. Support for you to just be with your wounded heart, your loss, your pain, your grief – as well as with your inquiry, your wonder, and even your joy as it arises. Support for you to look at each mindstate directly as it visits you. These processes of being ask only for your awareness. And while they cannot be rushed or whisked away, they can open the heart in ways that doing cannot. They have the capacity to stabilize us in the ground of being, and they beckon us to connect with ourselves at a much deeper level, at the level of nobility of which Baha’u’llah speaks. They invite us to connect with others through that same ground - to see the Noble Beings on whom our faces are painted, to see our true nature, to see God standing within each one, mighty, powerful and self-subsisting. This gift of an open and connected heart is the boundless fruit of our time spent with these transient emotions.

You continue to be in my thoughts and prayers, Susanne. Please enjoy the beach and the heron.

With love,
John