This is the first of a series exploring the reasons behind my participation in
The Conspiracy Of Silence
She considered herself a minister, and a teacher, and a leader, for those on “the spiritual path”. She was quite the planner, and was also studious, and read everything readily available to support her knowledge, or need for knowledge, in areas revolving around her main concerns in life, or in her teaching arenas. She had quite the rigid understanding of the facts, and, in fact, her “facts” became her idols, of which she trusted, at the exclusion of any teaching, or learning, that those around her might try to impart to her, either unintentionally, or through a need to help her to see more clearly. She had little or no sense of humor, and was devoid of all capacity to embrace the mysteries of life, and all of its timeless “unknowns” or the present moment, as it fruitlessly tried to present itself to her every moment of her existence.
She could be quite the “control freak”, and her quest for knowledge had the unconscious intention to keep her in control of any situation she was involved in, and to establish herself as a teacher, so as to keep her own fears of insufficiency and inadequacy at bay in group settings. Every group discussion had her taking the lead role, where she would endlessly parade herself, and all of her supposed self-knowledge, in front of her adoring masses, or, at least she hoped, that they had adored or respected her. Her self-righteous behavior was continuously displayed, as she went from one topic to another, always showing to the world how perfect her relationship was to any issue revolving around social responsibility, dietary excellence, or ecological awareness. Perfectionism and unintentional self-worship were characteristics that defined her, and were immediately recognizable by others, who were not also participating in the continuous parade of self.
She truly was the type of person, had the Christ been before her, and teaching from the Eternal Tablets of Truth, she would have grabbed her phone, and Googled information to prove that her own head knowledge trumped what was being presented in the moment by Truth itself. She had, in a term that I coined just for her, “spiritual dementia”. She thought that every moment needed to be covered by her limited understanding of what was really there. Discussions with her were difficult, and she rejected most feedback, and many would defer to her, rather than confronting her about her quirks, and her need to always be right.
I sat through literally, a hundred or more groups with this woman, first when she was a single woman, and then after she married. She would actually attempt to speak for her husband, even while he was attending the same shared group experiences. Many nights most of the other members of the group would just sit back, and let her take control of all group communication. I cannot tell you how many times at least two members of this group, including me, would tire, and fall asleep, and end group times early together. Others would sit back, and offer up an occasional barbed remark (yes, me too), without adding much to the flow of the group energy.
I had made a decision to attempt to love her long ago, unconditionally and with a “tenderness” of heart and Spirit. Yes, she still had the potential of the beauty of the Rose, yet her “thorns” were scratching at her world, and the limited world that she shared with me. It is hard to fully appreciate the others essence while constantly treating oneself from wounds incurred through direct relationship with the others wayward thorns. It is not just my personal view of her that was causing pain to me, it was her inability, or unwillingness, to stop resisting life, and become open to new possibilities for meeting with Life, on terms that were mutually favorable. I did not come into this world to “bow down before her excellence”, though that was the implied need expressed through her outward behavior. An exchange of energy between “spiritual equals” was not part of her needs, and she saw others as somehow insufficient, and undereducated, relative to her own self-understanding.
Why did I not ever confront her about her behavior? Why would I withhold myself, and my truth, from a situation that should have demanded my participation in it? Why would I withhold my own assessments of what is real, and true, and right, in the face of this assault upon my own sensibilities? Why would I devalue myself, and my own truth, so much that I would carry the perception that “I have nothing to say”, or that “nobody would ever listen to me because I do not have a college degree, have not written a widely read book, or I am not a therapist or respected spiritual advisor”? Why do I sometimes unconsciously believe that nobody would ever listen to what I have to say, anyway?
When her husband began his dying process, I became much more actively involved in her life, and their shared life, on a level that I had never anticipated I would. A defining story came near the end of her husband’s life, when I was providing care for him up to two times per week. She rattled on endlessly about how to best care for her husband, even though I was already an established help mate, and quite successfully navigating the unknowns, and the difficulties, with his care. By this point, her husband had become quite unhappy with her care for him, and he considered her incompetent, and uncaring, and he informed me that he wanted a divorce from her, as she was so “insane”, and there presently was little or no love being shared between them. Yet he was helpless, and powerless to do anything about it, as his fading life force had removed all options for change for him. And she continued the parade of perfectionism that defined her, even in the face of the assault against her by her husband’s disease process.
Yet, she would not stop her irritating teaching mode of existence, forcing me to finally confront her.
“Why don’t you please stop trying to teach me about stuff that I don’t need to know, or don’t want to learn? Can’t you trust that your husband and I are successfully navigating these difficult times together, and that we can manage without your endless control?”
“Oh, Bruce, you are just going to have to treat this like it is an AA meeting. I have to give you this teaching, as I have no choice. Just continue to listen until I am complete, and then take what you like from it, and leave the rest.”
“Actually, I don’t want or need any of your teaching, or your lessons. You teach fear, and distrust of the Unknown, and i have grown weary of your intellectually dominating behavior, as has your husband. Please get into your car, and leave for a while, so that we can all breathe a little easier.”
It only took me 23 years to speak my truth to this knowledge dominatrix. My love for her husband, and my attention to his needs and greater good, took precedence over my own feelings of inadequacy in confronting his wife about her alienating, crazy making communication style. Her spiritual dementia needed to be challenged, lest I lapse into deeper degrees of anxiousness, powerlessness, and unreality. Confronting a difficult reality takes more energy than most of us care to bring to the table, yet, not doing so diminishes our own standing in Truth, Life, and Love, and that was my experience up to that point.
What did this emotionally and spiritually disfigured woman represent to me on the inner plane of my consciousness, where the human collective archetypes reside? She was the Dark Queen, and Trickster, and a number of other “lesser gods”. She represented the unyielding rational brain, devoid of Spirit’s soft, embracing touch. She had no room for anything unlike herself in her kingdom, and the stick figures in her dream of world domination could never be filled out with their true essence, because she had no room in her heart, or time for that. Her Trickster mind misrepresented trust and openness to the Unknown as something to fear, and she needed to cover up its Nakedness with second-hand, worn out rags of other people’s intellects and misunderstandings. She truly was like the King in the parable of the “Emperors’ New Clothes”, parading her misunderstandings of life around for all to see and worship, all the while fearing that an innocent boy would call her out.
In the absolute, All that we ever see, unto eternity, is our own self. As I look upon my version of this world, and all of my relationships with the people, the land, the animals, and inner and outer space, I see an evolving landscape that demands collaboration and involvement by ALL PEOPLES, and representation for those beings who do not have a voice in such matters. This is a landscape that also demands that I make my own unique impression upon it. As a part of my own spiritual growth and development, I must first confront the demons within my own mind and heart before I strike out against the “outer world”, lest I project unhealed images and intentions upon the unsuspecting population.
I had very poor training since birth in how to successfully navigate group energy, up to, and including, the whole of society that we all participate in. As a boy, when family discussions turned into arguments, many times I found myself either raising my voice against the angry voice of my father, or retreating into submission and fear at the threat of being attacked for being contrary to the flow. And, I internalized that I was probably wrong anyway, and would be punished if I stepped out and asserted myself too much. I learned that I could undertake less obvious means of rebelling against authority, sometimes through indirect, or obvious, self, or other, destructive behavior.
Passive/aggressive tendencies have haunted me most of my entire life, and becoming “self-aware” has gone a long way to keep me from employing those unskilled coping mechanisms unconsciously, though I am still occasionally haunted by their presence. Having undertaken the inner work of insight, and maintaining mindfulness, and identified those sources of suffering within myself, does not instantaneously remove all of the darkness within. But is also does not remove from me the responsibility to call out those who are the external agents of oppression and repression, no matter how much I might love them or want to protect them, or even to protect myself from the ramifications of asserting what is right, true, or proper in any situation.
It is fascinating to watch what happens in group processes, where the “active issues of the moment” are finally met by the active participants within a closed group. M. Scott Peck had a great understanding of the stages of spiritual growth, as well as how communities respond to challenges within themselves. He coined a term “the dark prophet” for those who take an antagonistic position in regards to a prevailing attitude, concept, or accepted norm established by the community. When those other members within the community are confronted by the perceived “attack”, they immediately go into a defensive posture, and begin the process of self, and other, protection, and scapegoat or marginalize the “dark prophet” who has spoken out against the accepted norms. Unfortunately, in our spiritual and emotional therapy groups, or in the political process itself, the person who speaks out against the so-called prevailing norms is over-analyzed by, or redirected by, those who cannot or will not share in the observation, or insight offered. Eventually, truth will dawn on the rest of the community, but not before an innocent is punished for offering up a contrary truth.
It is not a fun position to be in, to be the “dark prophet”. It is the position of greatest spiritual growth, and evolution, and only for those who have made a decision to separate from the “common knowledge game” of limiting human judgement and understanding. My old tendencies would be to try to hide under the nearest table (figuratively, and literally) to avoid confrontation. Or, I would rather defend the person who is being challenged, rather than consider both or several points of view simultaneously, and doing the real work of healing of conflicting and diverging energies, and actively participate in synthesizing a new, more evolved, inclusive group outlook.
By the way, have you ever noticed how so many of the so-called spiritual savants, or gurus from foreign lands, do not have families? What is the real teaching here, do you think? It is so much easier to talk love and light for all beings, especially when one does not have to deal directly with the most challenging of human relationships. From 1987 to 1989, I spent over 6 hours a day in meditation and prayer, and I had zero problems with my relationships with people. I lived in perfect peace and harmony within myself. Also, I had no children, or nobody to call me on my isolation and (potential) loneliness. All in all, it was beautiful for me, yet totally disengaged from the challenges of integration into society, and family and friendship development. One could say that I had, one or more times, “shared in the experience of the Mystics of all times, past and present”, but I will never write a “tell all”. I value my time in the “real world”, where the beauty, and the pain, of human existence is my greatest teacher. Mysticism has a place in our world, yet I struggle to find how to best stay in alignment with its ecstasy, and enlightenment, while maintaining a “normal human experience”. Perhaps I will drink again from its deep waters, when I have finally wearied of this world.
In the future, I do not plan on taking so long with others who might need helpful feedback. This may end “friendships”, or it may define new, deeper levels of meaning and relationships with others.
My “friendship” with this friend and “teacher” basically ended in December of 2017, three months after the death of her husband. In her grief, misunderstanding, and insanity she accused me of having a gay love affair with her husband, because of the “secretive nature” of our relationship with each other. Her husband had ceased long ago from following her twisted line of reasoning, and was attempting to see his world and reality from a new perspective, a perspective that might facilitate a healing state of awareness. He saw that thinking and feeling along the twisted “norms” that they once shared was not helpful to his healing process, and had opened his mind and heart to other possibilities, until the progression of his brain cancer had threatened his will to continue to pursue his own life, to the point of finally accepting the Death with Dignity process. My only role was to show that there were other successful ways to see, and manage, life. I was only a short-term teacher who brought a temporary measure of hope to a dying man. The “secretive nature” was only that his wife was unwilling and incapable of living in this manner of experiencing the mystery of life in a new way, thus who I am, and what I attempted to share with her husband, appeared “secretive” to her. Together we had engaged in our own “conspiracy of silence”, yet it was not my intention of ever hiding who I am from her, it was only her inability to see and welcome my way of experiencing life that made me appear to be unknown, and “silent” to her.
(begin addendum)
Bruce’s post 62nd birthday experience
I have been in the midst of an extended anxiety reaction recently. This is difficult to talk about, as I have always considered myself such a “together” person, especially since I began conscientiously practicing recovery from alcoholism in 1987. Once again, this points to another aspect of my own participation in the “Conspiracy Of Silence”. At times, I have a tight throat, and I get a bit dizzy, and I am easily stressed and irritated (totally foreign to me when I am whole). Sometimes, sounds around me take on a “startling” tone to them, causing surprise and discomfort to me. My normally quiet and peaceful state of being and awareness has been profoundly impacted as of late, and, at times, the anxiety rises to such profound levels that I feel as though my mind is threatening to break apart into chaos.
I recently called my family physician, and when Caroline (the receptionist that I have known for decades) offered her condolences to me for dad’s death, I broke into uncontrollable tears. Prior to that call, I was sitting down, and wanted to close my eyes, but when I started to, I felt like I was about to fall into an infinitely deep, dark pit, where I would just disappear. That created a fearful, almost panic based response from me.
Recently, I have been using herbal anti-anxiety drops, to little avail. I just picked up a small prescription of anti-anxiety medication, which is not something that I take lightly. I am also using a process called “tapping” (useful for trauma therapy) which I recently learned from my friend, who is also a practicing mental health professional. I once prided myself on being able to maintain control under all circumstances, even when it might have appeared to others that I was not maintaining good conscious control. Now, my pride has been tossed out of the window, while I embrace a new order of healing for myself.
I am humbled by this anxiety reaction. I started having it several weeks ago, and it just has continued to build in new, uncertain ways. I am seeing that unresolved grief issues with the loss of my parents and my good friend Marty has impacted me on unexpected levels of my consciousness. I had a similar reaction in early October, when I was at the beach with Sharon, June, and Michael. I had hoped that all of the issues had been resolved after writing a treatise on it, but no such spiritual luck for me.
I have already talked about my experience with the deaths of my family, friends, and dogs till I am almost blue in the face. Apparently, there exists an “inner story” that remains to be told, which will release me from the grip of this sometimes almost paralyzing anxiety. There is a part of me that still needs to die, or I need to integrate fully some disowned parts of me, so that I can become whole again.
In early December, one of my friends informed me that the women I previously referred to thought that her husband and I were “having a gay affair” or something to that effect, since there were elements of “secrecy” involved with how we had communicated with each other. I was not welcomed by the wife into their household after her husband had started his deterioration, but instead I was directly requested by her husband to be involved more fully into his life during his “dying days” of late July, August, and early September. My dying friend had been reading my writings since March of this year, with interest, and he tried to practice one or two “experiments in consciousness” that I had designed, based on my own experience of spiritual growth. Up to this time the couple appeared to be joined at the hip, and the husband had not been allowed to explore ideas that the couple had not agreed to, in advance, to explore together. My process was to give the husband an opportunity to “free himself from himself” so that a new order of understanding and healing might become possible for him.
During the days when I provided care and companionship for the husband, and tended to his mundane needs of bathroom care and transportation, as well as fixing things around their house that he could no longer accomplish, I developed a deep love and sense of compassion for my friend. I also trusted in that love, to bring forth the best of Marty while he was in physical presence with me. This resulted in less than one minute of car entry and exit times for him, versus a 15-20 minute struggle for his wife, each time she had to help him with transportation. There were obviously some power struggles between the two, and I won’t go into any more details on this, other than to state that his wife also had a third grade understanding of the power of love, jealously thinking that if her husband shared love with others (including pets) there would be less love for her.
The end result is that I felt an incredible betrayal by both the husband and wife at the end of the husband’s life process. The husband “cut me off” with less than 10 days to go before his death, not wanting for me to even know that he was about to take his own life through Death With Dignity process. Sadly, his death was to serve as both a divorce from life in general, from his wife, and from my life.
(end post birthday addendum).
I somehow became emotionally wounded, or traumatized, by this experience, and my symptoms show evidence of this. Apparently I had become too emotionally involved, and exercised “unhealthy” levels of empathy, while attempting to practice compassion with both parties.
(end addendum)
I do not want my own death to be my “divorce” from a non-supportive, non-life sustaining relationship with my partner, or from my world. I presently have the most wonderful relationship with the woman of my dreams, and we live in a true relationship where we are able to mirror each other, and heal our own wounds together, and celebrate the wonder and love of our life. I want to die loving Sharon fully, while also being fully integrated into the very fabric of existence itself, with all of the wonderful beings, human or otherwise, who share in this beautiful world.
May all sentient beings be freed from suffering.
May I remain free from all unconscious tendencies to deny the Truth, and cause my own pain and suffering.
Please, save yourself.
