A Meditation on Failure
The past three days has me trying to think deeply, often when I am in
the car, about all of the ways things do not go the way we
intellectually intend them to go. I really chew on some of these
thoughts trying to pin the thought thread down as best I can, but the
markers will only go so far until I have to retrace the thread back,
repeating the thoughts again, trying to push them farther. Writing them
down is better because I can follow the breadcrumbs so to speak. I still
have not trained my mind enough to think solidly alone like I want (or
seem to want to.)
Right now, today, considering the past three difficult days, I've been thinking about illness as a metaphor for some spiritual maladies. I know that, physically, one can come down with a minor cold or a terminal disease. Everyone, no matter how long they live, is bound to have at least one illness in their life. Yet, if they care for their physical condition, they can usually avoid the most serious illnesses and diseases. However, if a person actively seeks out unhealthy conditions, lives in mold or is always covered in dirt, eats the wrong things, and never exerts themselves, they will more easily ruin their health and maybe end their life.
It seems to me that this is a metaphor for our spiritual difficulties. Everyone, no matter how long we live, will experience a problem or a moral dilemma in their life at least once. My biggest ones so far came in my late twenties and all of my thirties. Perhaps, if one is of a mind to care for themselves spiritually, they might be able to recognize the spiritual principle at work, or discover the missing virtue and try to remedy the problem. Maybe the practice of meditation is necessary to help recognize these problems, or to reinforce the healthier thoughts. However, it also seems clear that chronic neglect of spiritual health can lead to more serious trouble, or maybe even spiritual death. How else could one describe a person who is consumed by selfishness, bad behavior, and things such as causal lying if not as a person who is gravely ill spiritually? A chronic lack of compassion or self-awareness might even lead to a permanent state of spiritual death? Is that how far this metaphor goes?
Could someone, gravely ill in this way, find remedy and recovery? It would seem that if we use life as model, then the answer could be also yes, but it also suggests the seriousness and the difficulty. Such remedies often need careful, regular, and determined treatment. Bones need to be set for casts. Surgery scheduled to remove a cancerous growth. Sometimes, it also means a new diet. Sometimes, it means better exercise.
But then, sometimes a person afflicted by spiritually illness lacks the means to heal themselves. An unconscious, physically ill person isn't really able to eat or swallow a pill by themselves. I suppose this would mean that, in some cases, it is necessary to reach out to the spiritually ill and help them find the strength to recover, advise a course of treatment.
I often lose hope when I find that I have not lived up to the standards I have set for myself. Mom has told me in the past that I am too hard on myself. I cannot believe that. If anything, I have been lax in some of the things I know I need to do. Many times, I turn to the family trait of psychological denial. If I pretend there isn't a problem, maybe it will go away. Also, if I know that I have failed in some regard, I lose the necessary motivation to continue forward in my efforts to counter the behavior or impulse, lose the will to change. Of course, perhaps it is a sort of arrogance to assume that I can know when all is truly lost when the standards for judging are not up to me. Although I may know myself best among my fellow human beings, I am not the Divine Judge. I have to consider that thought more closely. God knows that we fail. Otherwise, why would their be a need for prayer, healing, or redemption? Why would we need to be forgiven? Ideally, we would carefully protect ourselves spiritually by heeding the Divine counsels and advice and not need to be forgiven. But then consequences are educational are they not? A loving punishment is a punishment that is meant to instruct a being on the seriousness of the error and reinforce the will not to recommit it. A cruel punishment, which God by definition would not do, would punish only to increase suffering.
I have a hard time separating the suspicion or the feeling of being condemned from knowing that I need to persevere in my spiritual health efforts. For example, perhaps my already low-self esteem falsely tells me that there is no hope, then assuming that I can know for certain there is no hope, I lose motivation to continue, which reinforces my conviction that all is lost because I no longer try as hard. Thus, I add the early "feeling" of failure to the actual reality of failure when I let things go through lack of effort, when I do not do what I know I should or what is right. Then, knowing I have actually failed, I add that knowledge to the early feeling and feel even worse. Which in turn, leads to a sapping of motivation, which strengthens and amplifies the distress, and weakens the desire to try. It is a vicious cycle.
Can I really know that I would be damned, condemned, or beyond help? Perhaps no. Based on my reading of spiritual texts, even the most condemned on Earth still had the opportunity to repent and atone (at least to some degree) while they lived. Of some, that knowledge of opportunity to atone accompanied the knowledge that the person in question never would. However, theoretically, the chance was still there. Therefore, if I want to transform into a better person, I should not dwell on the past that cannot be change, but focus on the future for hope of change.
Other thoughts along these lines: the reality of having a human body, with its capacity of being bored, tired, angry, or having any other animal emotions, complicates the noble desire to be a good person who always acts correctly or transform into a better person. I usually frame this problem in terms of will-power. I tell myself that, in occasions where I am bored, tired, angry, etc, I need to suppress the urge, sometimes shockingly sudden and unconscious, from doing things like yelling at the blameless, or taking it out myself or on someone else. But also, even IF another person yells at me unjustly, I should resist the urge to respond in a similar unkind or unjust manner. Stopping myself from responding in equal unkindness is frighteningly difficult.
Furthermore, it is always easy to be and do good when we're happy and relatively content, but it becomes frustrating difficult when we're not.
I think that the solution, in light of some of these thoughts, might be to try to practice the habit of happiness and contentment, even in difficult circumstances. This provides the natural resiliency of spiritual health in the face of difficult problems.
If I am not entirely wrong, I think I should believe that Happiness and Contentment should not rely on ones outward circumstances. All of humanity's best spiritual literature seems to tell us this. Happiness and Contentment are not merely passive gifts of God (although they are that). Instead, human persons should consider them as skills to practice. (If light can be both a particle and a wave, according to science, then virtues can be both a gift and a skill.) My challenge then, as a person with a cultural background that tends to see things materially and not spiritually, is to try and recognize how to practice Happiness and Contentment. I think Plato touches on a similar thought about virtue: how some are passive traits, but others are actively practiced. Justice is not justice until one performs a just act. In my life, filled as it is—as everyone's is—with an occasional angry person, minor injustice, unfair circumstance, or outward unhappiness, this challenge looms large. How, do I inoculate myself against these triggers no matter how difficult they may seem, how angry another person might be? (I think of our modern day news reporters who seem to struggle with maintaining inner composure when they ask a person in authority a question, and the authority responds with a lie, attack, or similar unkindness. I want even more than they would "spiritual unflappability.")
This is one of the things I have been thinking on the edge of my life that I suspect I must reinforce: how most of the change I want, changes based on my reading of spiritual texts, is often just a change of perspective: a constant, daily awareness of the real (spiritual) things in life. How do I always remember to carry Happiness and Contentment with me when faced with difficult problems, like where do I live in the next ten years, how do I feed myself, how to I cope with health that is not the best. Yes, there are also practical steps I need to take, and I should think about those, implement them as best I can, but above those two things, I need to have the perspective of happy person working contentedly to becoming a better person, who perseveres through trouble, no matter how bad it is. Who is not unsettled by any event, no matter how large the storm on the horizon, no matter how terrible the lightening bolts are. I know that grief chills hope and effort, even grief about one's frailties and weaknesses. But every step forward ultimately brings us closer to what we want or need. In the world of time, in which our physical lives ultimately appear so short, taking no step at all is the same as falling back.
Right now, today, considering the past three difficult days, I've been thinking about illness as a metaphor for some spiritual maladies. I know that, physically, one can come down with a minor cold or a terminal disease. Everyone, no matter how long they live, is bound to have at least one illness in their life. Yet, if they care for their physical condition, they can usually avoid the most serious illnesses and diseases. However, if a person actively seeks out unhealthy conditions, lives in mold or is always covered in dirt, eats the wrong things, and never exerts themselves, they will more easily ruin their health and maybe end their life.
It seems to me that this is a metaphor for our spiritual difficulties. Everyone, no matter how long we live, will experience a problem or a moral dilemma in their life at least once. My biggest ones so far came in my late twenties and all of my thirties. Perhaps, if one is of a mind to care for themselves spiritually, they might be able to recognize the spiritual principle at work, or discover the missing virtue and try to remedy the problem. Maybe the practice of meditation is necessary to help recognize these problems, or to reinforce the healthier thoughts. However, it also seems clear that chronic neglect of spiritual health can lead to more serious trouble, or maybe even spiritual death. How else could one describe a person who is consumed by selfishness, bad behavior, and things such as causal lying if not as a person who is gravely ill spiritually? A chronic lack of compassion or self-awareness might even lead to a permanent state of spiritual death? Is that how far this metaphor goes?
Could someone, gravely ill in this way, find remedy and recovery? It would seem that if we use life as model, then the answer could be also yes, but it also suggests the seriousness and the difficulty. Such remedies often need careful, regular, and determined treatment. Bones need to be set for casts. Surgery scheduled to remove a cancerous growth. Sometimes, it also means a new diet. Sometimes, it means better exercise.
But then, sometimes a person afflicted by spiritually illness lacks the means to heal themselves. An unconscious, physically ill person isn't really able to eat or swallow a pill by themselves. I suppose this would mean that, in some cases, it is necessary to reach out to the spiritually ill and help them find the strength to recover, advise a course of treatment.
I often lose hope when I find that I have not lived up to the standards I have set for myself. Mom has told me in the past that I am too hard on myself. I cannot believe that. If anything, I have been lax in some of the things I know I need to do. Many times, I turn to the family trait of psychological denial. If I pretend there isn't a problem, maybe it will go away. Also, if I know that I have failed in some regard, I lose the necessary motivation to continue forward in my efforts to counter the behavior or impulse, lose the will to change. Of course, perhaps it is a sort of arrogance to assume that I can know when all is truly lost when the standards for judging are not up to me. Although I may know myself best among my fellow human beings, I am not the Divine Judge. I have to consider that thought more closely. God knows that we fail. Otherwise, why would their be a need for prayer, healing, or redemption? Why would we need to be forgiven? Ideally, we would carefully protect ourselves spiritually by heeding the Divine counsels and advice and not need to be forgiven. But then consequences are educational are they not? A loving punishment is a punishment that is meant to instruct a being on the seriousness of the error and reinforce the will not to recommit it. A cruel punishment, which God by definition would not do, would punish only to increase suffering.
I have a hard time separating the suspicion or the feeling of being condemned from knowing that I need to persevere in my spiritual health efforts. For example, perhaps my already low-self esteem falsely tells me that there is no hope, then assuming that I can know for certain there is no hope, I lose motivation to continue, which reinforces my conviction that all is lost because I no longer try as hard. Thus, I add the early "feeling" of failure to the actual reality of failure when I let things go through lack of effort, when I do not do what I know I should or what is right. Then, knowing I have actually failed, I add that knowledge to the early feeling and feel even worse. Which in turn, leads to a sapping of motivation, which strengthens and amplifies the distress, and weakens the desire to try. It is a vicious cycle.
Can I really know that I would be damned, condemned, or beyond help? Perhaps no. Based on my reading of spiritual texts, even the most condemned on Earth still had the opportunity to repent and atone (at least to some degree) while they lived. Of some, that knowledge of opportunity to atone accompanied the knowledge that the person in question never would. However, theoretically, the chance was still there. Therefore, if I want to transform into a better person, I should not dwell on the past that cannot be change, but focus on the future for hope of change.
Other thoughts along these lines: the reality of having a human body, with its capacity of being bored, tired, angry, or having any other animal emotions, complicates the noble desire to be a good person who always acts correctly or transform into a better person. I usually frame this problem in terms of will-power. I tell myself that, in occasions where I am bored, tired, angry, etc, I need to suppress the urge, sometimes shockingly sudden and unconscious, from doing things like yelling at the blameless, or taking it out myself or on someone else. But also, even IF another person yells at me unjustly, I should resist the urge to respond in a similar unkind or unjust manner. Stopping myself from responding in equal unkindness is frighteningly difficult.
Furthermore, it is always easy to be and do good when we're happy and relatively content, but it becomes frustrating difficult when we're not.
I think that the solution, in light of some of these thoughts, might be to try to practice the habit of happiness and contentment, even in difficult circumstances. This provides the natural resiliency of spiritual health in the face of difficult problems.
If I am not entirely wrong, I think I should believe that Happiness and Contentment should not rely on ones outward circumstances. All of humanity's best spiritual literature seems to tell us this. Happiness and Contentment are not merely passive gifts of God (although they are that). Instead, human persons should consider them as skills to practice. (If light can be both a particle and a wave, according to science, then virtues can be both a gift and a skill.) My challenge then, as a person with a cultural background that tends to see things materially and not spiritually, is to try and recognize how to practice Happiness and Contentment. I think Plato touches on a similar thought about virtue: how some are passive traits, but others are actively practiced. Justice is not justice until one performs a just act. In my life, filled as it is—as everyone's is—with an occasional angry person, minor injustice, unfair circumstance, or outward unhappiness, this challenge looms large. How, do I inoculate myself against these triggers no matter how difficult they may seem, how angry another person might be? (I think of our modern day news reporters who seem to struggle with maintaining inner composure when they ask a person in authority a question, and the authority responds with a lie, attack, or similar unkindness. I want even more than they would "spiritual unflappability.")
This is one of the things I have been thinking on the edge of my life that I suspect I must reinforce: how most of the change I want, changes based on my reading of spiritual texts, is often just a change of perspective: a constant, daily awareness of the real (spiritual) things in life. How do I always remember to carry Happiness and Contentment with me when faced with difficult problems, like where do I live in the next ten years, how do I feed myself, how to I cope with health that is not the best. Yes, there are also practical steps I need to take, and I should think about those, implement them as best I can, but above those two things, I need to have the perspective of happy person working contentedly to becoming a better person, who perseveres through trouble, no matter how bad it is. Who is not unsettled by any event, no matter how large the storm on the horizon, no matter how terrible the lightening bolts are. I know that grief chills hope and effort, even grief about one's frailties and weaknesses. But every step forward ultimately brings us closer to what we want or need. In the world of time, in which our physical lives ultimately appear so short, taking no step at all is the same as falling back.
29 July 2018
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