The Train Ride to Oblivion

The Train Ride to Oblivion.

On some of these posts I am going to talk about how my asbergers syndrome negatively effects my life and how the ‘practice’ (meditation and other mindful techniques) helps me get through it.

I was invited to go to an event in downtown LA.  The event was to start at 7pm on a Friday.  The plan was to meet at a Sushi place before the show on the 21st floor of a downtown office building. I was told that the people I would be meeting would arrive there around 6, and I was told that they would call me before they leave, around 5:30, and if I was done for work for the day I could leave then. My plan was to get there between 6-6:30, enjoy the view, have a cocktail and eat some sushi and go to the show. I was looking forward to seeing the view. Now, I have Irritable Bowel Syndrome, so I have to plan when I eat around the times I travel, I do not want to eat before I do any traveling, but when I get there it is OK. Now on top of that, I am also hypoglycemic, so when I don’t eat, I start to shake and sweat and get nervous.

OK, it is 5:30, no phone call. I assume they are running late and will call me when they eventually leave. I do not want to leave without knowing they have left because I don’t want to be there alone and feel stupid and awkward standing by myself in place full of strangers not knowing what to do with myself (I am not going to introduce myself to a stranger, that would be unthinkable – I’ll explain why in a later post).

OK, 5:45, still no call. I am getting nervous. Concentrate on the breath to stop your thoughts from running and be the observer of your nervousness and do not let it take over you.

OK, 6pm, still no call. I’ll text them and ask when they are leaving. They respond – “You mean to the band – 6:50”

Holy shit, they are at the Sushi place! Now I got to rush and get my shit together. I hate rushing, I’m nervous enough as it is.
On the train I decide to text them. I think carefully how to phrase it – you see the anger is welling up inside me. My emotions are either at 0% to 100% and I can feel the anger meter moving quickly into the red zone.
Why? Because my plan is now fucked up. One of the asberger characteristics is adherence to a plan and any deviation from that plan can cause great stress. I know I would not arrive there until 6:50, and that was when they were planning to leave the Sushi place for the show, so not only is my plan fucked up, but theirs is also. That’s two fucked up plans, that’s twice the angst. I try to be diplomatic in my text, not to be angry or  put any one down or insult. I just state that I was expecting a call before you left and was looking forward to seeing the view and plan to stay at the Sushi place for 10-15 minutes after I arrive. I had two passes to the show and I was giving the second one to someone I was meeting there, so they had to wait for me. I send the text and get no response.

I am sitting on the train and the worst case possible scenarios are running through my head. What is the worst case? That when I get there they will insist on leaving for the show right away because it is 6:50 and that was their plan (everyone adheres the plan, right, RIGHT!)  What would that mean? That I am shit, I am insignificant, that my feelings and desires are meaningless. If that is what they insist my plan is to tell them to go fuck themselves and I am out of here and I have to except the fact that I have no friends and am not fit to mingle with polite society.

Ok, the anger meter is now at 100% and people are starting to look at me funny. Back to the practice – focus on the breath, observe the anger, do not become absorbed by it. I remind myself that I am getting upset over something in the future that may or may not happen and that is a waste of time. This calms me down greatly, and I am able to enjoy the rest of the ride until the final destination.

Ok, I arrive at the place, I get in the elevator to the 21st floor. I am shaking. In a few moments I am going to find out whether I am piece of shit who’s feelings are insignificant and if that is the case why should I even remain sticking around in this stinking world. That is what’s at stake when I get off this elevator. Sounds rational, doesn't it?

Well I get off. I find my party. I do not yell or throw things, I greet them and explain that I have to eat something and I want to look at the view, AND THAT I WAS EXPECTING A PHONE CALL!!!!
I though I was doing pretty good but apparently not because they could tell I was pretty upset. Well, they help me order the Sushi and give me a swig of tequila and the person who was suppose to call me apologizes. When they were waiting for me to finish my Sushi, I felt great pleasure that I was making them wait when they wanted to go, and I told them. They said ‘Whatever makes you feel better’. It did.
Well, I guess I am not shit. We went to the show and enjoyed ourselves.

I bet you can’t wait to invite me out again.

For another perspective on how aspie's ashere to the plan check out this wonderful blog: "Musings of an Aspie" http://musingsofanaspie.com/2013/02/21/my-no-reflex/

For more information on how to use mindful techniques in stressful situations I suggest the book 'The Power of Now' by Eckhart Tolle: http://www.amazon.com/Power-Now-Guide-Spiritual-Enlightenment/dp/1577314808/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1372599830&sr=1-1

The Intention of Indulgement

I have been looking at Buddhist teachings in regards to addiction, about helping people who live with to much excess, and have been re-working them so that they apply to people who live their lives with too much restraint - this is what I have so far:

The Intention of Indulgement

What do we turn to to avoid what we need to face to find true happiness and fulfillment, for many people it is the pursuit of pleasures – drugs, alcohol, sex, consumerism, gambling, etc. But for some of us we turn to avoidance – the security and safety of being in a familiar place and not taking the risks necessary for a life truly in the middle path.  Our addiction is avoidance, clinging to the belief that remaining in a familiar ‘safe’ place will lead to happiness, but it inevitably will not

These ideas if Indulgement runs contrary to the way of the atypical mind. The way of the atypical mind is the way of avoidance, and the unenlightened who follow this way flow with the current of avoidance, seeking happiness by avoiding the objects in which they imagine they will find fear. The message of indulgement states exactly the opposite: the pull of avoidance is to be resisted and eventually abandoned. Avoidance is to be abandoned not because it is morally evil but because it is a root of suffering.[17] Thus indulgement, turning away from denile and its drive for safety, becomes the key to happiness, to freedom from the hold of inertia.

This does not demand that everyone leave the household life for the party or  to discard all sense security on the spot. The degree to which a person renounces depends on his or her disposition and situation. But what remains as a guiding principle is this: that the attainment of deliverance requires the complete eradication of fear, and progress along the path is accelerated to the extent that one overcomes fear. Breaking free from domination by avoidance may not be easy, but the difficulty does not abrogate the necessity. Since avoidance is a source of dukkha, putting an end to dukkha depends on eliminating avoidance, and that involves directing the mind to indulgement.

But it is just at this point, when one tries to let go of attachment, that one encounters a powerful inner resistance. The mind does not want to relinquish its hold on the objects to which it has become attached. For such a long time it has been accustomed to gaining, grasping, and holding, that it seems impossible to break these habits by an act of will. One might agree to the need for indulgement, might want to leave attachment behind, but when the call is actually sounded the mind recoils and continues to move in the grip of its avoidances.

So the problem arises of how to break the shackles of avoidance. Do not offer as a solution the method of excess — the attempt to drive avoidance away with a mind full of pleasure and excess. This approach does not resolve the problem but only pushes it below the surface, where it continues to thrive. The key  to free the mind from avoidance is understanding. Real indulgement is not a matter of compelling ourselves to consume things still inwardly feared, but of changing our perspective on them so that they no longer bind us. When we understand the nature of avoidance, when we investigate it closely with keen attention, avoidance falls away by itself, without need for struggle.

To understand avoidance in such a way that we can loosen its hold, we need to see that avoidance is invariably bound up with dukkha. The whole phenomenon of avoidance, with its cycle of fear and security, hangs on our way of seeing things. We remain in bondage to avoidance because we see it as our means to happiness. If we can look at avoidance from a different angle, its force will be abated, resulting in the move towards indulgement. What is needed to alter perception is something called "wise consideration" (yoniso manasikara). Just as perception influences thought, so thought can influence perception. Our usual perceptions are tinged with "unwise consideration" (ayoniso manasikara). We ordinarily look only at the surfaces of things, scan them in terms of our immediate interests and wants; only rarely do we dig into the roots of our denile or explore their short-term beneifts. To set this straight calls for wise consideration: looking into the hidden undertones to our actions, exploring their results, evaluating the worthiness of our goals. In this investigation our concern must not be with what is unpleasant but with what is true. We have to be prepared and willing to discover what is true even at the cost of our comfort. For real security always lies on the side of truth, not on the side of comfort.

When avoidance is scrutinized closely, we find that it is constantly shadowed by dukkha. Sometimes dukkha appears as pain or irritation; often it lies low as a constant strain of discontent. But the two — avoidance and dukkha — are inseparable concomitants. We can confirm this for ourselves by considering the whole cycle of avoidance. At the moment avoidance springs up it creates in us a sense of lack, the pain of fear. To end this pain we struggle to fulfill the avoidance. If our effort fails, we experience frustration, disappointment, sometimes despair. But even the pleasure of success is not unqualified. We worry that we might lose the ground we have gained. We feel driven to secure our position, to safeguard our territory, to gain more, to rise higher, to establish tighter controls. The demands of avoidance seem endless, and each avoidance demands the eternal: it wants the things we avoid to last forever. But all the objects of avoidance are impermanent. Whether it be safety, security, familiarity, or stasis, change is inevitable, and the pain that accompanies change is proportional to the force of attachment: strong attachment brings much suffering; little attachment brings little suffering; no attachment brings no suffering.[18]

Contemplating the dukkha inherent in avoidance is one way to incline the mind to indulgement. Another way is to contemplate directly the benefits flowing from indulgement. To move from avoidance to indulgement is not, as might be imagined, to move from happiness to grief, from abundance to destitution. It is to pass from gross isolation to an exalted happiness and peace, from a condition of servitude to one of self-mastery. Avoidance ultimately breeds fear and sorrow, but indulgement gives fearlessness and joy. It promotes the accomplishment of all three stages of the threefold training: it purifies conduct, aids concentration, and nourishes the seed of wisdom. The entire course of practice from start to finish can in fact be seen as an evolving process of indulgement culminating in Nibbana as the ultimate stage of relinquishment, "the relinquishing of all foundations of existence" (sabb'upadhipatinissagga).

When we methodically contemplate the dangers of avoidance and the benefits of indulgement, gradually we steer our mind away from the domination of avoidance. Fears are shed like the leaves of a tree, naturally and spontaneously. The changes do not come suddenly, but when there is persistent practice, there is no doubt that they will come. Through repeated contemplation one thought knocks away another, the intention of indulgement dislodges the intention of avoidance.

This piece is based upon the "The Intention of Renunciation" by Pablo Das, the original can be found here: http://mindfullasd.blogspot.com/2013/06/the-intention-of-renunciation.html

The Intention of Renunciation

(posted by Pablo Das on Facebook)

My favorite piece on renunciation 
from Bhikkhu Bodhi's book "the noble eightfold path"

The Intention of Renunciation
The Buddha describes his teaching as running contrary to the way of the world. The way of the world is the way of desire, and the unenlightened who follow this way flow with the current of desire, seeking happiness by pursuing the objects in which they imagine they will find fulfillment. The Buddha's message of renunciation states exactly the opposite: the pull of desire is to be resisted and eventually abandoned. Desire is to be abandoned not because it is morally evil but because it is a root of suffering.[17] Thus renunciation, turning away from craving and its drive for gratification, becomes the key to happiness, to freedom from the hold of attachment.

The Buddha does not demand that everyone leave the household life for the monastery or ask his followers to discard all sense enjoyments on the spot. The degree to which a person renounces depends on his or her disposition and situation. But what remains as a guiding principle is this: that the attainment of deliverance requires the complete eradication of craving, and progress along the path is accelerated to the extent that one overcomes craving. Breaking free from domination by desire may not be easy, but the difficulty does not abrogate the necessity. Since craving is the origin of dukkha, putting an end to dukkha depends on eliminating craving, and that involves directing the mind to renunciation.

But it is just at this point, when one tries to let go of attachment, that one encounters a powerful inner resistance. The mind does not want to relinquish its hold on the objects to which it has become attached. For such a long time it has been accustomed to gaining, grasping, and holding, that it seems impossible to break these habits by an act of will. One might agree to the need for renunciation, might want to leave attachment behind, but when the call is actually sounded the mind recoils and continues to move in the grip of its desires.

So the problem arises of how to break the shackles of desire. The Buddha does not offer as a solution the method of repression — the attempt to drive desire away with a mind full of fear and loathing. This approach does not resolve the problem but only pushes it below the surface, where it continues to thrive. The tool the Buddha holds out to free the mind from desire is understanding. Real renunciation is not a matter of compelling ourselves to give up things still inwardly cherished, but of changing our perspective on them so that they no longer bind us. When we understand the nature of desire, when we investigate it closely with keen attention, desire falls away by itself, without need for struggle.

To understand desire in such a way that we can loosen its hold, we need to see that desire is invariably bound up with dukkha. The whole phenomenon of desire, with its cycle of wanting and gratification, hangs on our way of seeing things. We remain in bondage to desire because we see it as our means to happiness. If we can look at desire from a different angle, its force will be abated, resulting in the move towards renunciation. What is needed to alter perception is something called "wise consideration" (yoniso manasikara). Just as perception influences thought, so thought can influence perception. Our usual perceptions are tinged with "unwise consideration" (ayoniso manasikara). We ordinarily look only at the surfaces of things, scan them in terms of our immediate interests and wants; only rarely do we dig into the roots of our involvements or explore their long-range consequences. To set this straight calls for wise consideration: looking into the hidden undertones to our actions, exploring their results, evaluating the worthiness of our goals. In this investigation our concern must not be with what is pleasant but with what is true. We have to be prepared and willing to discover what is true even at the cost of our comfort. For real security always lies on the side of truth, not on the side of comfort.

When desire is scrutinized closely, we find that it is constantly shadowed by dukkha. Sometimes dukkha appears as pain or irritation; often it lies low as a constant strain of discontent. But the two — desire and dukkha — are inseparable concomitants. We can confirm this for ourselves by considering the whole cycle of desire. At the moment desire springs up it creates in us a sense of lack, the pain of want. To end this pain we struggle to fulfill the desire. If our effort fails, we experience frustration, disappointment, sometimes despair. But even the pleasure of success is not unqualified. We worry that we might lose the ground we have gained. We feel driven to secure our position, to safeguard our territory, to gain more, to rise higher, to establish tighter controls. The demands of desire seem endless, and each desire demands the eternal: it wants the things we get to last forever. But all the objects of desire are impermanent. Whether it be wealth, power, position, or other persons, separation is inevitable, and the pain that accompanies separation is proportional to the force of attachment: strong attachment brings much suffering; little attachment brings little suffering; no attachment brings no suffering.[18]

Contemplating the dukkha inherent in desire is one way to incline the mind to renunciation. Another way is to contemplate directly the benefits flowing from renunciation. To move from desire to renunciation is not, as might be imagined, to move from happiness to grief, from abundance to destitution. It is to pass from gross, entangling pleasures to an exalted happiness and peace, from a condition of servitude to one of self-mastery. Desire ultimately breeds fear and sorrow, but renunciation gives fearlessness and joy. It promotes the accomplishment of all three stages of the threefold training: it purifies conduct, aids concentration, and nourishes the seed of wisdom. The entire course of practice from start to finish can in fact be seen as an evolving process of renunciation culminating in Nibbana as the ultimate stage of relinquishment, "the relinquishing of all foundations of existence" (sabb'upadhipatinissagga).

When we methodically contemplate the dangers of desire and the benefits of renunciation, gradually we steer our mind away from the domination of desire. Attachments are shed like the leaves of a tree, naturally and spontaneously. The changes do not come suddenly, but when there is persistent practice, there is no doubt that they will come. Through repeated contemplation one thought knocks away another, the intention of renunciation dislodges the intention of desire.