“I mean, everybody panics. Everybody. Things get tense. It’s human nature. You panic; I don’t care what your name is, you can’t help it. But, fuck, man, you panic on the inside. In your head, you know? You give yourself a couple of seconds, you get ahold of the situation, and you deal with it. What you don’t do is start shooting up the place and killing people.”
-Mr. Pink, Reservoir Dogs
“Work on the acceptance of everything, including non-acceptance.”
-Koten Benson, The Mandala of the Buddha Mothers Refuge of All Beings
Over the last week, I have had a couple dreams about my partner having sex with other men, and not just other men, but specific other men, men with whom her sleeping with would be painful to both her, me, or both of us.
In Transformers fiction, there is a heroic character named Silverbolt, leader of the Autobots, and and evil Decepticon named Dirge. They are secondary characters, rarely seen too closely or developed too deeply, and they have no real connection to one another. But both of them have a relationship with fear. Dirge is known as using fear against his opponents, but his secret is he uses it to hide his own fear. Silverbolt--who turns into a plane and leads a group of robots called the Aerialbots--is afraid of heights. He keeps his fear at bay by remembering his role as a leader and his sense of responsibility towards his team.
A recurring them in the second section of Koten’s The Mandala of the Buddha Mothers Refuge of all Beings is dedicated to the exploration of fear and leaping beyond it.
Fear happens when we feel unsafe. It wants us to run, and it convinces us that what we are running from is the thing that his making us afraid. But what we are running from is the feeling. What we are running from is fear itself. It stands between us and the object or person and distorts it so we can’t see it clearly.
Fear travels through the same pathway our body as safety. When we feel safe, we are able to connect with ourselves, others, and the world. We listen better. We seem more. Our faces and voices soften. We are safe, and when people know we are safe, they are more likely to respond to us and us to them.
There is appropriate fear. Coach Popovich I first heard say this. It’s okay to be afraid when there is something to be afraid of.
Often leaping beyond fear involves recognizing the fear is in us. Leaping beyond fear does not mean banishing fear from our lives or not experiencing it. It means transcending it.
How do we do this? How do we leap beyond all fear, and enter the mandala of our hearts? Benson tells us to “look squarely at ourselves, sit still as if looking in a mirror and not look away whatever arises in front of us.”
It’s not always easy to look in a mirror. More specifically, it’s not always easy to look in a mirror and see what’s there, because we’re too busy having thoughts and feelings about what we see. I like this. I want to be more like that. Has this changed? Are those lines, or grey hairs?
It’s worth looking at ourselves and simply seeing what’s there. It may at first frighten, but it will eventually free us.
It’s a quiet thing, looking at the shape of you. We can make eye contact with ourselves or notice the outlines, where our body ends and the world begins. We can notice the gentle sway in our bodies when we stand. We can notice the way our wrists and elbows move, how our head tilts and swivels and what our necks and shoulders do to make that possible. We can notice our chests and our stomachs. We can see hints of the gifts of our bones and muscles wrapped in skin and dusted with hairs. And when we’re finished we can let go of what we see, turn, and go about our day.
At my old condo, which I miss very much, I had a full length mirror, and I would often dance in front of it. For a while, I did it, because I wanted to improve my dancing. Later, I just liked seeing myself. It wasn’t admiration so much as celebration, or maybe, recognition: That’s ME. I have a body. I AM a body. How wonderful!
Fear locks me in my body. I think of words from an Arcade Fire song: “My body is a cage, that keeps me from dancing with the one I love.”
Fear is also the way to freedom. If we don’t run from it, if we don’t let it break us, it goes on its own and in its wake is everything that we are looking for.
“We must realize that our own muddied water is the Pure Water,” Koten says.
Silverbolt turns to his values to overcome his fear of heights, while Dirge is a master of projective identification--getting others to feel his terror for him.
Being in front of the mirror is not enough. We must look.
Reservoir Dogs’ Mr. Orange tries to talk himself out of his fear in front of a mirror. “They don’t know. You’re not going to get hurt,” he tells himself. “They believe every word ‘cause you’re super cool.”
Later in time, but earlier in the movie Mr. White stands in front of a mirror washing his face and combing his hair, while Mr. Pink talks about fear. He’s combing, he’s grooming, he’s talking…but he isn’t looking. Certainly, he isn’t seeing himself. He’s not acknowledging the muddy water.
We need to acknowledge the muddy water, because the muddy water is the pure water. Removing it is nearly impossible, and it won’t help us. Thinking otherwise is thinking the only way to see the forest is by moving all of the trees out of the way. “Rivers exist in water,” Dogen tells us, not the other way around.
Dirge and Silverbolt are Transformers, Robots In Disguise. The can convert their bodes from robot to vehicle. Some of them can combine with four or five other robots to form one giant robot. Their bodies can be destroyed and rebuilt, making them virtually immortal. As fictional characters in long-form entertainment they can be imagined and remained to the demands of any story. They do not age or get sick and death for them is both rare and rarely permanent. They can transform, but they can never change.
We are made of skin, bones, muscles, and reality. We change. We change whether we like it or not, but instead of being dependent on writers, artists, and animators, we can direct the way in which we change. We cant control it, but we can influence it.
I can`t know if famous, world-class stand-up comic is in my future, but I can show up to open mic nights and write material. I don’t know if the students will learn what we are trying to teach them, but I can present it as best I can. I don’t know how long or how well my partner and I will be together, but I can listen, show up, be as honest as possible, and try to avoid reacting in ways that make things worse. I don’t know if this piece of writing will be good or even finished, but I can write the next sentence.
Twelve-step programs tell us we are powerless, and that is true, but powerlessness is not helplessness. Also, being powerless over many things does not mean we have no power. Success is recognizing where our power lies and exercising it effectively and wisely.
I don’t have power over my dreams, and I have no control over my partner’s sexual choices. I also can‘t make myself not be hurt if she makes choices that cause harm to either of us. Relationships, like so many things, are fragile. We can learn to trust and have faith, or we can learn to try and control and hold on--and in doing so risk creating the very situation we are trying to avoid.
In one sense entering the mandala means taking an unfamiliar step forward. It means moving on faith. In another sense entering the mandala is having the courage not to step forward. It is not to move at all. It is to accept that sometimes the fastest way forward on our journey is to stop.
Freedom from fear is already inside us. So is joy, peace of mind, faith, courage, generosity…We don’t need to create this qualities or find a way to make ourselves have them. All we need to do is to notice and nurture what’s already there. Nothing needs to be forced.
The water will carry us. Bobbing on its surface, we’ll float towards the mandala-gate that will best help us. If the fear intensifies, if the anger intensifies, if the greed or jealousy intensifies and intensifies for no discernable outside reason…this could very well be a sign that we are on the right track.
Feeling better doesn’t always mean feeling good. It means coming to terms and forming a relationship with the uncomfortable emotions. It also means allowing the comfortable and good ones to be there whether it feels like we’ve earned them or not. It’s okay for whatever comes to come.
Bad feelings are okay, but that doesn’t mean feeling bad is better than feeling good. We’re not seeking out discomfort for its own sake. It’s okay to feel good. It’s okay to feel bad.
Everything is fine.
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