Actuality: Almost, but not quite

Previously, I presented an abbreviated version of the instructions provided by Jack Kornfield, in his audio book, Beginner’s Guide to Buddhism (Louisville, USA: Sounds True 2002), on loving-kindness meditation, which I attempted as part of my search for a method to ease the suffering of my Fibromyalgia.

When I tried this meditation, I found that, like a good book, I was unable to put it down. I went to bed that night feeling very good indeed. I had modified it to wish myself well, literally, having really bought into the idea that this could make a difference to my health.

When I woke up the next morning, however, I felt absolutely rotten, and was correspondingly furious. All I had accomplished was to make myself feel even worse, as the meditation simply made me aware of how awful I felt by making me feel better for a short time. It hadn’t really helped at all. There was no way that wishful thinking was going to make a difference, or so I concluded. ‘What a waste of time!’ I complained, and proceeded to move on to other things.

I then listened to a variety of other materials, some interesting, some less, so, but found nothing in them other than temporary diversions, or something to do when I felt too ill to move. Nevertheless, other audio books I would recommend by Jack Kornfield include, Your Buddha Nature (Louisville, USA: Sounds True 2000, containing several interesting and/or enjoyable meditations), Roots of Buddhist Psychology (Ibid, 1996), and Path with a Heart (Ibid, 2006, an autobiographical account of Kornfield’s experiences as a monk, and the aftermath of his return from this 10 year period of intensive practice abroad).

Paradoxically, though I can’t remember why, I drifted back to loving-kindness meditation again, and this time, perhaps due to the adoption of more realistic expectations, actually found that it did do me some good, at least psychologically. But how you feel about your circumstances is just as important as your circumstances; so, I suppose this makes some sense.

I continued on with this every day for about six months and found that it certainly made me a little calmer, a very important result, given that pain generates anxiety, which in turn increases pain. Hence, anything that reduces anxiety tends to reduce pain. But then, I encountered the unfortunate truth that muscle tension also masks pain, and found that over time my pain was worsened due to this phenomenon. Sheesh! Sometimes you just can’t win!!!

Next time: if you don’t like being weirded out, stop reading now. Otherwise, fasten your safety straps and prepare yourself for a mind-warping ride!

Activity: Loving-kindness Meditation

Last time, I wrote on my impression of Jack Kornfield’s introduction to the practice of loving-kindness meditation, in his audio book (Beginner’s guide to Buddhism, Louisville, USA: Sounds True 2002), which I hoped might provide a method for me to obtain some kind of relief from the chronic pain of the Fibroymalgia from which I suffer. What follows is a partial transcription of the guided meditation on this practice.

“. . . be aware that every being is given a certain measure of sorrows in this life and . . . wish that their sorrows and struggles be held with the tenderness of compassion.”

Kornfield then instructs his listeners to sit comfortably, close their eyes, focus on the breath in the area of the heart, breathing in and out of that area. Then the practice starts with an exercise in forgiveness.

“The first direction of forgiveness” is asking for it. “There are many ways in which I have hurt or harmed others knowingly and unknowingly. I remember these now. Let yourself feel and remember the sorrows you carry from having brought harm to other beings. In the ways that I have harmed them out of my own confusion, fear, out of my pain and ignorance, in this moment, I ask their forgiveness. May I be forgiven, may I be forgiven.”

The process is then repeated towards oneself and towards others who have harmed one, with the caveat on the last one to forgive others “to the extent that I am ready,” acknowledging that forgiveness to others may take some time.

The next part involves well wishing directed towards our selves, then loved ones/benefactors, followed by neutral persons (those we see regularly but don’t know), “difficult people,” and finally everyone.

Examples of suggested phrases include, “may I/you be filled with loving-kindness, be safe from inner and outer dangers, be well, be peaceful and truly happy.”

He closes with, “may we live with the great heart of loving-kindness. May we carry the spirit of compassion from this meditation into our thoughts and our deeds. May it be so.”

Kornfield then suggests, “take these practices and work with them in your own way, with your own phrases.”

Next time: where this took me.

Action: Something New

Last time, I wrote about Jack Kornfield’s summary of the major traditions of Buddhism, his version of the practice of mindfulness meditation (Beginner’s guide to Buddhism, Louisville, USA: Sounds True 2002), and how none of this seemed to give me the answer I was seeking of how to get through the day without screaming due to the fiery furnace of pain in which I was immersed on account of the condition known as Fibromyaligia.

Kornfield then introduced another kind of meditation, however, called “loving-kindness meditation,” also known as “metta” in the Pali language (the language of the Buddhist scriptures upon which the Theravada version of Buddhism is largely based).

He began with, “[the] practice of mindful attention and mindful freedom is balanced with the practice of loving compassion,” and went on to assert, “it is possible to reawaken and strengthen [the] innate compassion that is a part of every human heart.”

Okay, I was with him so far, and though I couldn’t see what good it would do me, at least it was something new to try.

But then, he added, “to do this practice brings happiness and joy,” which immediately sparked my interest.

“One traditionally begins by reflecting on the benefits of a loving heart,” he said.

“When the heart becomes full of loving kindness (said the Buddhist text), our dreams become sweet, we fall asleep more easily and waken contented. We have good health. Angels will love and protect us and men and women will love us as well. It’s said that as the heart deepens in loving kindness people will welcome us everywhere. Our thoughts become pleasant; our voice is sweeter and our children are happy in the womb and growing up; [and], dangers will not harm us. If we fall off a cliff a tree will be there to catch us, and we will bring the blessings of compassion to whatever we touch.”

If all this sounds implausible to you, just imagine how it sounded to me, but ohhhhh, if only!!! Nevertheless, I laughed, and thought, ‘yeah, right. Pull the other one!’ (rolled eyes)

On the other hand, I had nothing to lose except my agony; so . . . next time, I will take up the story again, with the details of this practice, as explained and demonstrated by Jack Kornfield.

Abridgement: The Three Traditions

Last time, I wrote about my reaction to Jack Kornfield’s discussion of the four noble truths, in his audio book, Beginner’s Guide to Buddhism, and how this still did not seem to supply a method to help me get through the day without screaming due to the ongoing suffering caused by my Fibromyaligia. Parts of the theory sounded good, though; so, I kept listening.

At the end of his description, he summarized the major Buddhist traditions, which he divided into Theravada, Mahayana (e.g., Zen and Ch’an), and Vajrayana or Tibetan. Theravada seemed to have a moralistic slant, emphasizing “strict monastic discipline, [and] purification,” but this was not what I was seeking. Here, once again too, was the identification of the causes of suffering as “grasping” and “clinging,” which puzzled me.

The point of the prescribed practices was to achieve release from “clingings,” and thereby “come to Nirvana.” If so, this was not for me. Nor was Tibetan Buddhism, “the path of devotion and prayer.” I’d already tried plenty of that; I’d prayed my butt off, in fact, to no avail. Guru worship sounded downright dangerous, and the psychic transmission of ancient wisdom simply ridiculous, nor was I ready to embrace the idea of reincarnation of accomplished masters, or anyone else for that matter!

In fact, of these three, right away I was attracted to Zen, though I had not found anything helpful on it elsewhere. For, as I noted in an earlier post, the Zen of Thich Nhat Hanh as I found it in his audio book, The Heart of Understanding (Berkeley, USA: Parallax Press, 1987), neither made sense to me, nor appealed to me. Nevertheless, the simplicity of letting go of all desires (how ever one does that!) sounded good. The complexity and ritualistic nature of the other traditions, as described by Kornfield, put me off, and I certainly wasn’t in any condition to go off and seek ordination!

Now, at last, he moved on to talking about meditation, but the first meditation was similar to what I had tried before when I had read the work of Jon Kabat-Zinn. I didn’t really feel I could benefit from it. No way could I be “with the pains” of the body or “open” to them. That was not happening!!! I could barely stand being in the same room with me, let alone opening to the intense forest fire raging constantly and deeply through my body. (Nevertheless, I’d recommend Kornfield’s guided meditation for those interested in this practice, as he does it superbly!)

What was the answer, then? I still did not know. But then he introduced something I had not heard of before, and next time I will write about where this led me.

Aboveboard: The Four Noble Confusion

Last time, I began to talk about my reaction to the audio book, Beginner’s Guide to Buddhism, by Jack Kornfield. I was very attracted by the idea that there could be a way out of the terrible suffering caused by my Fibromyalgia, but as yet was not clear how this could possibly be so, and I wasn’t so sure about Buddhism either. The four noble truths outlined by Kornfield—suffering/dissatisfaction, the causes of suffering, the cessation of suffering, and the path out of suffering—seemed straightforward enough, but the details were less so.

I thought the truth of suffering was fairly obvious, given my situation, but the causes he described were not. I really wanted to know the causes, but “grasping and clinging!?” I hadn’t expected that. He went on to say that these “[lead] to greed, hatred and delusion, which creates suffering.”

At this point he completely lost me, because I thought my pain was my problem, but then he picked it up again, with the very true and relevant fact that we always want things to be a certain way but inevitably find that they are not, and then we suffer.

When it came to the truth of the cessation of suffering—Nirvana or liberation—of course, that sounded good—though I knew nothing about it. He said this happens when we give up “the body of fear;” when we “quiet the mind and open the heart,” then we can achieve liberation. But the “how” was still missing! How do we make this happen?

He said that the path leading to the cessation of suffering is “the middle path, or the eight-fold path, . . . when we live in the reality of the present . . . [and] respond with compassion rather than react with greed, hatred or delusion.”

He listed the 8 parts of the path and briefly described them. While this was interesting it didn’t make much of an impression on me. More importantly, as far as I was concerned, was the idea that you can learn to be here and know you’re here without suffering from or getting caught up in what’s happening, but instead to respond to this present wisely and compassionately. The moral tone of some aspects of the path did not appeal to me, as I wasn’t feeling very well disposed towards anyone else, having been rejected and put down because of this invisible burden I was carrying around.

I was ready for some serious relief, but how could I get it?

Next time: Enough about theories, what about specific methods!?

About-turn: Buddha’s Story

As explained earlier, the searing pain of Fibromyalgia motivated me to seek answers. Having already exhausted the affordable medical and naturopathic options, I immersed myself in an imaginary realm of my own creation. In the process of attempting to manufacture this escape route I decided I had to create a religion for one of my characters. Searching the Internet for ideas brought me back to Buddhism. Last time, I concluded that while this expedition had revitalized my fiction, it had not improved my reality. Then, I stumbled across an audio book by Jack Kornfield called, Beginner’s Guide to Buddhism (Louisville, USA: Sounds True 2002).

In this work, Kornfield explains that he is going to describe the “essential practices and teachings offered by the Buddha,” which originated 2500 years ago. “The word Buddha means one who has awakened . . . to their true nature and sees it in all beings,” he says, adding “we too can discover this in ourselves and the teachings of Buddhism are a way to fulfill that reality.”

‘Okay, Jack, but how in the world is this going to help me?’ I silently complained to thin air.

But by this time I was so desperate and I felt so ill that I lacked the energy to get up and turn the flipping thing off, so I continued listening anyway.

Now I learned that prior to his awakening, the Buddha lived a sheltered privileged life, but one day his view of the world was shattered by his observation of the prevalence of suffering, in the form of sickness, aging, and death. At the same time, he discovered that others too were already seeking answers to the problem of how to respond to these unpleasant realities. At once, he resolved to join in this quest. After years of searching and struggle he finally found a way to free himself from suffering. Out of compassion he committed himself to teach others the path to liberation.

This bit caught my attention, to say the least, but then he broke off from the tale and explained how he became a monk in a monastery, where he learned the practices of this path.

Then, returning to the thread, he identified the central core of the teachings as "The Four Noble Truths." These are: the truth of suffering or dissatisfaction (which I thought I already knew all too well), the causes of suffering (which I had concluded were pain and more pain), the cessation of suffering (I wish!!!), and the path to this end (I can hardly wait!!!).

Next time: okay, I’ve heard the truths, but I’m still suffering. Now what?

Abounding: Sampling Errors

Last time, I wrote about how the suffering of Fibromyalgia drove me to seek solace in the fantasy life from which much of my creative writing emerged. I then described how this strategy produced a fictional character for whom I needed to invent a religion. Lastly, I outlined how my internet research on the topic re-ignited my interest in Buddhism, and summarized a few of my past experiences with meditation based on the work of John Kabat-Zinn.

In the course of my Internet searching, I came across a confusing and often conflicting assortment of web pages, books and audio books. There is a wealth of information out there, but what good does that do when it’s so disordered?

Eventually, I began to notice certain patterns, however. For example, Ajahn Brahm has a lot of material out there. A good place to start is the Buddhist Society of Western Australia. There’s a lot to see on this site, but what grabbed me first was his theme of happiness. For a while, I was determined (foolishly, no doubt) that all I had to do was decide to be happy and all would be well. For a few days I was deliriously happy and then I crashed again, as I usually do when I get a hold of one of these popular ideas.

Oh yes, the self-help book/video/audio madness is still going strong. We may feel ill but the get-well-quick-business is very healthy. I don’t think Ajahn Brahm is part of that show, but his ‘advertising campaign,’ style sometimes strikes me as a little over-the-top, and there are hints of a hardness behind it that doesn’t appeal to me. Nevertheless, I am sure that some of you will find some comfort and wisdom in his message, as well as humour.

The Vietnamese, Zen Buddhist monk, Thich Nhat Hanh, is quite popular too, though I had trouble understanding his perspective. After listening to, The Heart of Understanding (Berkeley, USA: Parallax Press, 1987), in the notes I filed with it, I wrote, “Most of this is sheer fantasy, containing many contradictions, but he spins a good tale.” I later discovered that a lot of what I had found concerned a difficult Mahayana Buddhist concept called “emptiness.” It made no sense to me then; hence I moved on.

The Teaching Company has an entertaining course on Buddhism, taught by David Malcolm Eckel, for those seeking a general understanding of Buddhism, and it certainly helped with my fictional religion construction. I, on the other hand, had already embarked on a journey of another kind, entered a completely different boat, or plane or bus from the one I thought I had intended to, but had not yet noticed.

Next time, everything is turned upside-down again, but I still don’t catch on.

Abeyance: False Start

As described last time, in my search for a way to escape the suffering of Fibromyalgia, I resurrected an old writing project and immersed myself in it, or more accurately, in the fantasy life from which this story had emerged. The creation of a certain character in this speculative fantasy—a mad monk—meant that I had to go back and create a religion for him to follow.

Then, while trolling the internet for information on various religions, I came across quite a bit of Buddhist material.

‘Oh yes, Buddhism,’ I thought. ‘I always intended to get back to that someday,’ though I could not remember where or when I’d first heard about it.

I had had some sporadic experiences with meditation in the past, and in the 1990s had seen Bill Moyers’ series, “The Healing Mind.” In one particular episode, Jon Kabat-Zinn’s use of mindfulness meditation and yoga to help people suffering from chronic pain and illness were highlighted. I was impressed. Later, I came across his book, Wherever You Go, There You Are, Mindfulness Meditation in Everyday Life (New York, USA: Hyperion 1994), which I would highly recommend for beginners looking for an introduction to this practice.

I also purchased a copy of Full Catastrophe Living: Using the Wisdom of Your Body and Mind to Face Stress Pain and Illness (New York, USA: Delta 1990). I tried to follow some of the regimen outlined in the book, but really only got as far as the meditation on the breath. I started a meditation diary, and began with ten minutes of meditation a day, increasing it to up to an hour a day over a period of 8 weeks.

Then, just as abruptly, I ceased this practice. My diary records that although there were moments of comfort and relaxation, tremendous difficulties and struggle, pain, intense restlessness, and strong unpleasant emotions predominated. For example, on one occasion I wrote, “preoccupied, angry, hurting, anxious,” and near the end of my practice, “difficult, bitter, depressed, down, despairing, discouraged, angry, struggle, turmoil, overwhelming.” I just could not continue anymore.

Jon Kabat-Zinn’s emphasis was on mindfulness, however, and now I was looking for information about religions. Hence, I began to refresh my memory about what Buddhism was all about (along with other religious traditions, which don’t come into this tale). It was this exploration that led me to some new methods to try, though I wasn’t really looking for anything like that.

Next, I will write about these new discoveries.

Abatement: The plot takes me

Previously, I explained what led me to start this blog; namely, to give an account of my search to find a way to get through the day without screaming, in the event that it might benefit others.

To begin with I sought relief through escapism. From the time I was very young, I displayed an aptitude for making up stories and songs. When I was about seven years old I began to write poetry and imaginative prose. At some point, I got the idea that I wanted to write a novel, and that notion has been following me around ever since. Every now and then I pull one of my many writing projects out from the back of the closet and give it another going over.

My most recent bout of nostalgia was triggered by a desperate desire to disappear into something, ANYTHING!!! that would get me away from my pain.

In fact, I became quite obsessed with working on this thing, to the exclusion of everything else.

My preoccupation eventually became so central to my existence that it was all I could talk about, and I sullenly bristled at any attempt to get me off this topic, because I felt as if it was the only thing that was preventing me from going out of my mind with pain at this point.

Meanwhile, I continued to work on this project—rapidly transmogrifying into a multi-part saga—but right in the middle of this I had also started writing some fan fiction for a science fiction web site, and—you guessed it—bits of my narrative began to leak out onto the virtual page as well.

The first story I wrote in collaboration with another member, who had a penchant for adding forum members as characters. I continued this tradition in the following stories, but only after obtaining people’s permission and feedback about what sort of roles they wanted. (I also read their posts to get an idea of their likes and dislikes, and asked them questions to fill in the details.)

One member asked to be a villain, a mad monk, in fact, and I obliged. As a result of this inclusion, I suddenly realized that I now had to invent a religion to go with my already voluminous tale!

In my next entry, I will reveal how this turn of events led me to a possible path through my agony.

Abandonment: What do you do when nothing works?

I'm not sure where my story begins. I will therefore start with the moment of my desperate realization that I needed to find a way to get through the day without screaming!

What was this about?

One word: PAIN!!!

I suffer from a condition that is known by various names in different parts of the world, but it was introduced to me as, Fibromyaligia.

What is Fibromyalgia?

This baffling and disabling condition causes a wide variety of unpleasant symptoms, but the one that drove my search for relief is the inferno that burns through my chest, shoulders and back.

What is this like?

Imagine the last time you saw a clip of somebody on fire. This is how I feel when I get one of the attacks, which can last for weeks at a time.

There is always some pain, however, and I take pain medication three times a day for the regular simmering agony, but this only dulls it down somewhat.

During the major attacks, only Tylenol 3 seems to help, but since my condition already causes poor sleep, drowsiness, and fatigue, (common side effects of the codeine found in Tylenol 3), by the time I add that to the mix, I might as well not be here at all!

While I am here, I would really like to know I'm here, thank you! Otherwise, what's the point?

Don't get me started on how many remedies I have tried. Everything from A to Z and back again that I can reasonably afford has already been tried.

So, this is not another site about the latest "miracle," cure or whatever. I've seen enough of those already, and I bet you have too. No, I'm through with all that.

Next time, I will begin to tell you about where my search for an alternative has led me so far.