Joan Halifax
Buddhist Roshi

As social and neurological beings, when we feel: included, accepted, appreciated, respected, regarded, thanked, welcomed, remembered, noticed, asked or celebrated our brains generate ‘happy’ chemicals and we feel good. Actually we feel great.

In addition; we think well, we’re more likely to be creative and innovative, to be productive and effective, and to be optimistic and happy. We’re also more likely to engage well with one another, collaborate, solve problems together, trust each other, manage conflict in a productive way and have really good conversations.

If you agree that this is generally true for you and you acknowledge how you feel when you experience any of the acts of social inclusion just mentioned; you’d possibly also agree that the following question is an important one to ask.

Would paying more attention, spending more time and/or placing more value on acts of social of inclusion be of benefit to your family, your team, your community or your organisation?

For most of the answer is most probably, yes.

Understanding the impact of this benefit and being able to engage in actions that create it is one of the most important functions that any of us interested or invested in social wellbeing and leadership can undertake.

The intent to work more often with acts of social inclusion, emanates from a generative motivation.

Investing in relationships in such a way fosters shared understanding, mutual respect and connectedness. When this occurs we know where the other is coming from and we recognise their intention.

My woman is the guitar on my bed.
She is my best friend.
When we cry together we cry the same tune.
She is a good listener and I am also very attentive
I caress her neck pressing carefully near the backbone,
she is always grateful.
I love the way she smiles with a O shaped mouth.

My woman is a guitar.
Sometimes at night when we are making love
cats and possums hear us through the bedroom window
They go crazy
they think it’s a circus.

Some outside
some on wracks
All open mouthed
spread welcome.

I have paintings also. They are static.
The towels move around.
They’re the colours of angels
blessing a clothesline
or bedroom floor.

If I’m wet they dry me
if they’re wet I dry them
It’s a good arrangement.

They smile at me, and often
break into laughter
when I attempt folding

they think it’s a hoot
trying to fold away colour

To see where you’re coming from

To get you

To take you seriously

To understand your deepest intent

To legitimise your ways of being

To love you for you

with no conditions

This symmetry of friendship

to balance worlds

by noose from lintel

called the police

moments before

knowing that

the response time

would save her friends

the grief

of finding her

at the top of the hill

I waited for you

not long enough for the magpie’s

wing-feather to fall from the conifer

and then your silhouette

along with the sunset

struck me

and drawing closer

your smile

drawing closer

Whatever it is that stops us in our tracks matters less than what we are being asked to notice. Whether it be malady, loss, impasse, disturbance or discontent, our emotional system is the indicator that data exists for us to decipher. To be able to examine the data we need to move into the role of observer. This capacity illustrates that it is possible to be both the experiencer and the observer of our own life.

To be one without the other may create a singularity of self absorption or cold detachment. However, when held together a balance point occurs: To experience - I am part of, and, To observe – I am separate from. This balance point enables movement between the two states, thereby acting as an enabler of conscious choice.

Conscious choice is alchemised in the crucible of purposeful attention. It arises from the process of separation. Through an observant eye, experience is observed thereby allowing the experiencer to separate from the experience and become the observer. Once observed the experience itself can be: held, considered, turned through perspectives, evaluated, tested for meaning, relevance and usefulness. Hence the pattern of the experience is revealed.

We think and behave in patterns. The human brain is a pattern making instrument. Neurologically everything that exists in memory is a pattern. That which is learned becomes a pattern. In some cases our patterns have run so long and so deep that we have become blind to them. The thing that stops us in our tracks, sometimes felt as an emotional ‘derailment’, or ‘ailment’ can act as the inciting incident that eventually causes us to discover the unseen pattern.

The benefit of such an experience is that it can catalyse an exploration of self enquiry that leads to the discovery of patterns of thinking or behaving that have hitherto gone unobserved. This is referred to as a ‘blind spot’. Our emotional system acts as an indicator of blind spots, particularly when we repeatedly experience emotions that we do not enjoy. These emotions accompany the story: ‘I am unhappy’, or ‘I am unwell’, or even ‘I am a failure’.

The benefit that derailment offers us, cannot be explored while we remain locked into the pain of: defeated expectations, beliefs, rules, or judgements that no longer serve us. The first movement that will offer respite and facilitate the ability to observe ourselves is to practice acceptance of what is happening. If we remain in non-acceptance of what we are experiencing we remain stuck within our patterns. Unable to separate from them, we experience emotions of non-acceptance such as: resentment, resignation and depression. Achieving acceptance ultimately brings relief and a deeper state of peace.

To ask ‘Why is the pattern happening?’ is not as useful as ‘What is the pattern I need to see?’. When we ask ‘why’ we are seeking to find the answer from within the pattern and the answer remains elusive. The ‘what’ question invites us to sit outside the pattern. To watch, reflect and learn. To watch and separate from the pattern allows new data to emerge.  With new data and new perspectives we move to insight. These ‘aha’ moments set us free. We see with clarity the pattern that our habitual, experiential selves had not allowed us to witness.

Once seen and evaluated the old pattern can fall away and a new pattern can emerge; one that is more consciously and deliberately developed. To find the element of conscious choice we sit at the balance point between being the experiencer and the observer. It is possible to move between them and embrace both simultaneously. By practicing acceptance of what is happening we are ready to evaluate what is useful and what is not. Whatever it is that stops us in our tracks matters less than what we are being asked to notice.

Martin Challis © 2011