Wayne S’s meditation teacher, Tracy Cochran has written a beautiful book entitled ‘Presence: The Art of Being at Home in Yourself’. There is a straight forward way to connect much of what Tracy outlines in her book to the spiritual practices we have in AA. I think a very useful theme to establish this connection is the movement from ‘conscious separation’ to a ‘conscious connection’ to a Power greater than ourselves.
Chuck C. explains it this way in his classic AA memoir a ‘New Pair of Glasses’ with the visual image depicted above:
The Problem:
Now I am convinced in my own mind….that there is only one problem in this life. One problem that includes all problems and one answer that includes all answers … I am totally convinced that the only roadblock between me and you and my God is the human ego. The only roadblock there is. I further believe that the best definition you’ll ever hear of the human ego, “the feeling of conscious separation from”. From what, from everything. From God (I like these three words: Life, Good, God, which to me are synonymous words). Conscious separation from God, from each other, and eventually from ourselves … And that’s the human ego the seat of all obsessions of the mind. That’s where they come from. It is also my total conviction that there is no possibility under Heaven to satisfy the human ego.”
The Answer:
I think maybe if we listened , we sort of established the fact that our problem actually is a living problem and we have to have a living answer. Walking alone is not normal; is not natural. Most of us walked alone for most of our lives. I walked alone for forty-three years, wanting so badly to be a part of , and always apart from. That is not normal. To be away from the Father’s house is not normal. It’s just as natural as breathing, to come home to the living God that made us. That’s the normal state. Being away from home is not normal. So our problem is conscious separation from and our answer is conscious unity.
The Context Of Our Conscious Separation Experience & Our Alcoholism:
How does this relate to my alcoholism? When I live in my world I am irritable, restless, and discontented. What does that really mean? Irritable means things and people and events are always bothering me because it is not going my way. Restless because I have no peace and serenity. Discontented because I am only content if I get what I want from people and they follow my script for them. The result is that I was in conflict with everyone and everything. This is well described on pages 60-62. A life run on self will will never work. A life run on self will is manifested by wrong thoughts and action. In my alcoholic world I manifested wrong judgement which we call resentment. Wrong beliefs which are self centered fears. Wrong actions which harmed others and produced shame and guilt. How does this relate to alcohol? I seek the ease and comfort of alcohol to relieve me from the pain of living separated from God.. Alcohol was a solution to how I felt living separated from God. It changed the way I felt. It changed the way I saw the world.”
So, if we accept that our problem is one of isolation …a conscious separation from and we want to move toward a solution that offers us a conscious connection to what Chuck C calls ‘life, good, and God’ … what do we do?
I think Tracy has much to teach us about how meditation can be useful to help us in this movement. The extracts below are from Chapter 11 and 12 of her book. I also love the way Tracy connects meditation and this movement into conscious connection as an essential element in the hero’s journey our lives unceasingly offer us one breath at a time. – Bruce M.
‘Meditation As Movement To Conscious Connection’ Extracts from Chapters 11/12 of ‘Presence: The Act Of Being At Home With Yourself’
For brief periods, when life breaks our way, it can feel as if we are finally getting somewhere. We may think that we are finally becoming someone who understands this crazy life. With this self-image securely in place, we may decide that we are good and life is good and that we can share this with others. But things change. A voice or relationship or job or health is lost. Instantly we contract, closing the doors and windows to intruders. We become little fortresses in a world that is suddenly dark and dangerous. I once heard a Buddhist teacher call the ego a defense against pain. I heard another great teacher say there is no point in trying to kill the ego because it was never really alive; it is a set of conditioned responses and thoughts that try to protect us by separating us from the whole. But we don’t like living in these self-enclosed little air locks. We feel cut off from life. We are afraid to step outside. We want the comfort of the known.
Meditation and spiritual practice have been called death in life. We die to the hope that our life is taking us somewhere. We let go and allow ourselves to open to a new life, a shared life.* I reminded myself that this happens with each breath, the letting go and breathing in. For the space of a few breaths, I escaped the diving bell of ego and looked at the brilliant blue sky.
I would have died if I hadn’t died. This is a mantra I often share with others. I attribute it to the Danish philosopher Søren Kierkegaard, although it isn’t an exact quote. It came to light in a college class discussion on Kierkegaard’s leap of faith. After all these years, I’m not sure who said it just that way, if Kierkegaard said it or a professor or this was my own paraphrase. But the phrase stuck, and I made it my own over the years. Over and over, I verified that it is often when the worst happens, when hopes and dreams are dashed, that real life pours in.*
“We all have to be the hero of one story—our own,” wrote P. L. Travers.
I understood that a hero is someone who can take off the armor, who can be vulnerable and show up anyway, experiencing what is really happening without trying to resist or run away. I saw that an act of heroism can be an action that happens on the inside without anyone else noticing, a movement of availability, a willingness to be seen and heard and touched by life.*
A hero’s journey isn’t necessarily a long ordeal. At any given moment, we can leave the self-enclosed world of our thought and touch down in the present moment, which is always unknown territory. Yet it also feels like coming home. It seems miraculous to move from one state of being to another, from thinking to opening to presence.
Touching the earth also symbolizes humility, the act of coming down out of our thoughts to remember the body and the present moment, leaving the frantic control center of ego to join the rest of life. The Latin word humus, “the living earth,” is related to the word humility. When great difficulty arises, we tend to remember that what really matters are essential, earthy things, giving and receiving a glass of water, a cup of tea, taking the next breath. It is during the hard times that we notice that life is constantly offering itself to us.
The contrast between this kind of knowledge—a collection of facts, images and dreams—and real knowing, real embodied awareness, felt crucial.…I had sensed that I could be part of a greater life, one that involved my whole body and not just my head. I had sensed that my small life might be capable of a nobility.
The journey begins with a willingness just to stop and notice what is happening right now. Just that. Just notice with an attitude of kind willingness to receive whatever comes.
Most of us yearn to be more present in our lives, equating presence with a greater sense of wholeness and ease in the world. Yet, when we turn our attention on to what is happening right now, we most often feel dissatisfied, as if elements are missing or off. It’s too hot or too cold, or it may be a beautiful day but we are stuck inside or in traffic or have too much to do. We say no to what is happening and imagine some future better moment when we will be able to yes. Someday, we tell ourselves, we will be able to be fully present. When things are better, we will be able to have serene equanimity with what is happening. We don’t realize that this attitude of no doesn’t lead to yes. *
Generosity begins with being generous toward ourselves, letting everything be just as it is. This attitude of acceptance does not mean compliance with bad treatment or bad conditions. Just the opposite. It means being willing to open to what is happening, allowing reality to appear.*
For a short time, try practicing this way. Allow yourself to be with what is happening at any given moment, adding nothing, rejecting nothing, just being open to reality as it is. This practice can be especially nourishing and helpful at those times when you feel tired or ill or when conditions make life seem too difficult or desolate. Bring your attention down out of your weary mind into the body. Allow yourself to exhale completely, as if it’s your last breath. Don’t push. Just let it go. Notice how the next breath fills your lungs naturally. Notice how life comes to you. Let go of all striving and notice the current of life and presence that is inside you and outside you. Notice that you are part of a greater whole.*
* bolds added – Bruce M.
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