“Whatever you may be sure of, be sure of this: that you are dreadfully like other people.” – Amy Lowell
I’m not sure I would use the word “dreadful,” but it sure comes close.
“We’re going to break up into pairs and discuss……………….. Whatever.” that always seems to send this little electric current through any group. The fun part, when someone makes that announcement, is almost everyone looks towards the person they want to pair up with. Usually someone who buys their social act and already approves of them. But then, the suggestion is to pair up with someone you don’t know. Which gets a little creepy when you’ve been sitting with the same people for years. You sorta “know” everyone. But even so, you can always find someone you “don’t know” well enough to say you know them.
What is it I fear? Being judged? Yep. Not being liked? Yep. Not being approved of? Yep? Or is it more that I now feel vulnerable? Somehow I might get hurt? It’s like being forced to go on a blind date. Perhaps if I stop and buy flowers and candy before? Or do I just despise forced intimacy? That I don’t want to be stuck sharing intimate feelings, thoughts, and the essence of what I am with someone I don’t know? What’s wrong with me anyway? What’s wrong with a little forced social intimacy?
Although, why I might feel like that in Sangha might be worth looking at, because we’re all being refuges for each other, right? We are all busy “Refuging away.” Except, I also know that’s not true, the amount of gossip in any Sangha is about the same as the general population, despite believing we don’t gossip. And, don’t tell anyone this because it’s a Sangha secret, some people don’t approve of or like each other. Although most good little meditators pretend to embrace humanity, until they get cut off on the freeway or their pet project gets defunded.
Yuck. Humanity. I like a lot of people individually, but when they get together in mass, not so much. (For me, Mass is more than two.) I find apocalyptic stories about isolation charming and somewhat attractive. Maybe I’m not exactly Sangha material? More of a scout, an outlier. The person who rides off and only comes back when they find something worth sharing. And then skips the celebratory dinner, to go scouting. And really would rather hang around with other outliers anyway. Or isolate in misery, one of conditioned separate personality’s very favorite activities.
Aren’t we supposed to be a refuge? Somehow being fearful of being judged, evaluated, and feeling as though one might be unacceptable doesn’t seem to fit with the whole idea of creating a group that would automatically be accepting of all of us. But we must not really believe it, that we accept everyone. We just like to pretend. We don’t really trust each other, do we?
A few weeks ago I facilitated a group and was very happy to announce, “Lets break up into pairs.” I had the chance to watch the whole process, the look to the safe friend, and then worry and concern that they would get paired with Jeffery Dahmer. (We might have a few of those, but they must be using false identities.)
As soon as we paired up I called everyone back, and we focused on the question: “Why the fear and anxiety of others?” People get strangely happy and talkative under these specific circumstances. As though they have been saved from something dreadful. That uncomfortable sense of needing to deal with a “stranger.” Even while operating under the inclusive flag of Sangha. Or Church. Or any other label we use for locations people come to share their journey.
We then paired up again, but discussed why we are so unsure of each other, why being with another, someone we don’t know, sends little shivers of terror in so many of us? We didn’t come to any conclusions, but noticed that the fear we had before about pairing up had diminished. How sweet!
The point of Gautama’s vision was to see how we embrace our angst as our own, hold it, and to immediately address how it feels in the moment. It then starts to shift. We need to pay attention to what we are doing, and not mindlessly “Pair up,” while simultaneously knowing it needs to be addressed and not ignored.
What’s relevant is always more important than any plan when it comes to paying attention. What’s actually happening and unfolding can always be addressed, when it’s seen. Plans are not more important than people, nor are places or things.
Walking up to a stranger in Sangha has the same feel as passing a stranger on the sidewalk. Do I nod? Say hello? Acknowledge another humans existence? Do I fear this connection?
It’s been the story for thousands of years, people coming together in the Bittersweet.
Bryan Wagner
Visions of a People's Dharma 