Pain Body

Whenever the word (emotional / spiritual / psychological) 'pain' comes up in my conversations with people, they immediately recognise it as something related to a certain kind of loss, abuse, separation, disappointment, assault, oppression, humiliation, etc. (Well, all this is pretty obvious. Isn't it?) And whenever I mention the word 'pain-body' (coined by master Eckhart Tolle), people usually understand it as 'a collective emotional body of such pains'.

I've talked about these words in my earlier post on 'chumming' (which I am aware that I need to write the sequel to). But, before that, I felt like writing a bit more about what I mean by the words 'pain' and 'pain body'. Reading The Mother's quote which I have used in the earlier post helped me articulate it with better clarity.

"There is a quality that must be cultivated in a child from a very young age: that is the feeling of uneasiness, of a moral disturbance which it feels when it has done certain things, not because it has been told not to do them, not because it fears punishment, but spontaneously. For example, a child who hurts his comrade through mischief, if it is in a normal, natural state, will experience uneasiness, a grief deep in its being, because what it has done is contrary to its inner truth.

For in spite of all teachings, in spite of all that thought can think, there is something in the depths which has a feeling of a perfection, a greatness, a truth, and is painfully contradicted by all the movements opposing this truth. If a child has not been spoilt by its milieu, by deplorable examples around it, that is, if it is in the normal state, spontaneously, without its being told anything, it will feel an uneasiness when it has done something against the truth of its being. And it is exactly upon this that later its effort for progress must be founded."

My inner truth is one that feels complete and safe, and does not need anything external to make it complete or feel safe. It tells me that I am born to realise this completeness. It is absolutely joyous and does not seek pleasure. It feels one with all of life and seeks to live every moment in service to it. It gives and shares with no expectations whatsoever. It is kind and loving. It creates, nurtures and cares. It is fearless, for there is nothing to fear. It is completely vulnerable at all times, for there is nothing to be guarded against anything at all. It always lives contented, fulfilled; immensely fulfilled. It knows that it has unlimited access to abundance. It knows that human life is one single strand in the web of life, and feels an immense responsibility to heal, for even if one of its strands is wounded (eg. oceans full of plastic waste), then all of life is wounded, for all life is one. It does not possess anything. My inner truth makes me surrender and flow with life, just as it unfolds. It accepts gracefully and with dignity. It is humble.

So, now let us see what are all those rarely acknowledged 'movements contradictory to this inner truth' that feed my pain body.

I feed my pain body, every time I seek a relationship with a partner expecting him / her to make me feel complete. When I accumulate wealth for my future security. Every time I am part of a race (of any kind) where in order to succeed, someone else must fail! When I seek pleasure, calling it happiness. I feed my pain body, every time I withhold from giving, from serving. Whenever I give in a transactional manner, expecting something in return. When I feel superior to someone. I feed it every time I feel self-righteous. Every time I oppress someone. When I yell at my servant, who I believe, exists in order to serve me. When I feel arrogant and indignant inside (being unconscious about it). When I mask my fears with a fake smile or with my masculinity. Whenever I want to "be in control". Whenever I resist what is. When (as a woman) I want to live like a man, with a "successful career" denying the beauty in nurturing (and my responsibility to nurture) my little one; i.e. deny my femininity. When I am at war with nature, wanting to conquer it with my arrogance.

Well, it looks like the human race is carrying one big pain body, and several different kinds - the female kind (which thinks it is not enough to be feminine), the male kind (which thinks too much of itself), the tribal kind (which is assaulted), the authority kind (which assaults) and so on. The forms are all different. But it's nature is one and the same.

Trust me!

When I make a mistake and you tell me "I told you so, didn't I?" I hear you telling me "I didn't trust that you knew even back then!" I either feel miserable about myself. Or if I feel too ashamed of letting anyone to see me as this 'miserable being' I fight back getting defensive.

When I make a mistake and you tell me (or just give me the looks that say) "Look what you have done!" I hear you telling me "I don't trust that you already know that you've made a mistake." I don't feel any motivation to act trustworthy.

When I make a mistake and you give me an understanding loving hug and tell me "It's ok sweetie. It happens!" I feel trusted. I hear you telling me "I trust that you already know you've made a mistake. I'm here to comfort you, so in the safety of that comfort you can work on yourself, learn from the mistake and try (as much as you can) to not repeat it."

So please love me. Please trust me. Please tell me I am worthy of it, so I can actually learn to be!

* * *

Inspired by a beautiful thought by 'The Mother' from the book "How to bring up a child?"

There is a quality that must be cultivated in a child from a very young age: that is the feeling of uneasiness, of a moral disturbance which it feels when it has done certain things, not because it has been told not to do them, not because it fears punishment, but spontaneously. For example, a child who hurts his comrade through mischief, if it is in a normal, natural state, will experience uneasiness, a grief deep in its being, because what it has done is contrary to its inner truth.

For in spite of all teachings, in spite of all that thought can think, there is something in the depths which has a feeling of a perfection, a greatness, a truth, and is painfully contradicted by all the movements opposing this truth. If a child has not been spoilt by its milieu, by deplorable examples around it, that is, if it is in the normal state, spontaneously, without its being told anything, it will feel an uneasiness when it has done something against the truth of its being. And it is exactly upon this that later its effort for progress must be founded.

Let's feel the sadness. Let's say 'Good Bye!'

I've moved roughly about twenty times while in India and another ten while in the US. As I grew older, moving from one house to another became more of a way of life and didn't matter too much emotionally. But I still have a memory of a very traumatic experience the first few times we did, until I was in high school. Especially when I was very little (when the adults in the family felt like they could just pick me up and leave when the day arrived) I was completely taken over by a deep sense of loss, of a feeling of grief. Of fear and anxiety too, of the unknown place we were going to. It was like 'This house was almost my whole world, and I suddenly feel uprooted from the safety of it!" It used to take me weeks to get over the grief, which I obviously could neither name nor articulate back then!

Starting a week before our move into our new house (we moved about 2 weeks ago), Rajeev and I started talking to Isha about it. We took her to the new house and told her that was where we were going to move into, talking about details like where her clothes and toys would go, among many things. Though it looked like she understood what it meant to move, this was still an unknown first experience for her. She was visibly puzzled (sometimes anxious) whenever we went to the new house or talked about it.

For a few days after the move, Isha kept saying she wanted to "go home". I just held her and asked if she was sad. She said "Yes, I am sad". I told her I was sad too, and that it was ok to feel sadness. It was special to be able to feel sad about something. Rajeev and I then decided to all go to the 'old house' to say a proper 'Thank you and Bye'. We went to each room and thanked it for all that it had offered us over the last two years and said good bye. We talked to her about the importance of letting go and moving on in life. I had initially withheld this conversation from her thinking that she was too young for this kind of a thing. But she wasn't! Many times we underestimate what children can feel and understand.

Something shifted after the good byes. She never asked to go to the old house, though something about it keeps coming up in our conversations.

There is a certain power in acknowledging and allowing our own griefs to be fully experienced before we make any attempt at 'letting go'. If we don't do it the right way, 'letting go' becomes an interesting idea stuck in the head. We become fragmented people who "know" enough about 'letting go' to write a book about it, but cannot make progress in our own lives with letting go of things we want to!