How to live 09-14

Chapter 9 Letting Go

The Weight of the Past

Many people see the relevance of starting the day with a sound orientation and of following a reasonable plan for dealing with habitual patterns of daily distress. Yet, it may not be obvious why getting ready for bed is important enough to merit its own chapter. Everyone knows you just brush your teeth, put on your Snoopy night shirt, pull up the covers and turn off the light. It is not an overstatement to say that if, at the end of the day, we prepared our mind spiritually for sleep, we would eventually master all the rules of happiness.

There is of course no reason to confine ourselves to this one form of effort. But the manner in which we fall asleep is so filled with spiritual potential that it could truly be considered a yoga or way of happiness. The means of unhappiness are the accumulation and retention of a past. One reason that young children are so noticeably happy and have such impossible energy is that they drag very little past behind them. They come into the world unencumbered by experience and free of anxiety about the implications of what has already occurred.

It's difficult to get most two, three and four-year-olds to answer any questions at all about what they did while we weren't with them. They are so interested in what's happening now that the past is an obvious bore in comparison. At the preschool John attended when he was two and three, there was always an afternoon snack prepared by a rotating list of parents, which the teachers and all the kids would sit down and eat together. In those days, Gail and I were concerned that John was not eating enough. So, after picking him up from school, we would not only inspect the almost untouched contents of his lunchbox, but would also casually ask what the snack had been that day, hoping to discover whether he had at least eaten that. The first few weeks he simply said he didn't know, but when he saw that this didn't put an end to it, he began answering, noodles. And noodles it remained until we realized that he had such little interest in the subject that he probably did not remember.

Children are gradually taught to carry the past with them by questions like these, and even to fear it by such warnings as, "Don't do that! Remember what happened last time?" By their teens or early twenties, and sometimes much sooner, a mental turnabout occurs, and the past is thereafter put above the present as their main concern. The life goals of most adults are motivated by the fantasy that their accomplishments will become a permanent part of their past and therefore of themselves. Our usual assumption is that our identity is everything we have done and not how we are in this instant.

That is why many people find it difficult to complete a personal transformation while remaining in close contact with those who have known them all their lives. Often our old acquaintances just can't see that we are truly changing. They are convinced we are the same, and so they get angry or suspicious when we don't respond the way we always have. Our fear of mistakes also comes from the assumption that our past behavior is more real than our present mental state. Whatever error we commit is incorporated into our identity, remaining plainly within our history for all to see, never a correctable mistake, always an abiding sin.

Inevitably there is a mishap or lapse or personal failure and from that point on we are a recovering alcoholic, ex-mental patient or convicted shoplifter. Our insurance premiums are high because once we had a wreck. We still have difficulty getting a loan because of the time we were unable to meet our bills. After my first book was published, one newspaper ran a story on me headlined, "Ex-Real Estate Broker in the Tradition of Rod McEwen," because of a job I had in my early 20s. In light of the honor it pays the past, all these correlations appear reasonable. For how could one rightly praise past accomplishments without also cherishing guilt?

Yet, emphasis on the past produces fear of the present. That much should be obvious. However, what is often not recognized is that all forms of fear transport psychological weight into the present. There is no such thing as idle worry. Worries don't idle, they grind. Fear presses upon the body as well as on the mind. By the time most of us reach the so-called golden years, the culmination of our efforts to build the best past we could, we have become so weighed down with all the miserable lessons we carry with us that we are in permanent depression and despair, as a visit to almost any home for the elderly shows. There are individuals who escape this, but it's not by accident.

Another showcase of worldly happiness, the romantic relationship, breaks up or enters a stage of repressed futility when the history of the relationship becomes all that the two people can see in each other. Once again, very few escape this. One can walk into a restaurant and with surprising accuracy pick out the old married couples by the noticeable lack of love between them. I'm sure you have had the experience of hearing people you know well talk about their spouse, then on meeting and getting to know that person, discovered that they were blind to many of their partners' good qualities. The reason you could see their spouse more accurately than they was that, to a large degree, you had no choice but to see that individual from the present.

People are never now how they have always been. Even though the amount varies, some growth and flowering is occurring in each life. Our perceived defeats weigh us down, yet what we think of as our victories can be equally smothering. For example, life can become very difficult for those who had great physical beauty when they were young, and a body can appear to be a curse when its athletic gifts are spent. Presidents of major corporations, former politicians, old actors and singers know well the feeling of being looked at as if they are freaks. For us to succeed, someone must fail. Once worldly success is ours, we are not suddenly exempt from the social dynamic that brought it. To have a hold on us, this misery must be mentally re-entered daily, and the doorway we provide is our preoccupation with what happened. There is very little that can hurt you once you learn how to release your mind from what you accumulated mentally during the day.

Releasing Residue

The process of taking on the weight of the past is unmistakable even in the course of a few hours. Very early in the day something fails to go as expected, and a slight discouragement is carried unnoticed into the next activity. As a consequence, the new activity is not performed satisfactorily, and an additional worry is set silently into place. As the day progresses, a mounting sense of bleakness and weariness becomes unavoidable, all of which is so noticeably absent in young children because their reigning interest in the present allows them to dismiss each event at its close. A state of mind this simple can't be recaptured at once, but it can be attained deliberately. To this end, there are three tools that can be helpful. One is the kind of break we discussed before that one schedules into the course of the day. Another is the pause between events discussed in chapter 4. The third is a major period of relinquishment at the close of the day.

The methods you use to clear your mind are not critical, but how unconflicted you are about wanting to do this. If you truly wish to let go of the past, you will find ways to accomplish this. When you sit down to commence one of these practices, if you are not clear about its purpose or satisfied that it is all you want to pursue for the next few moments, what technique you use or how long you engage in it will matter very little. You simply won't achieve meaningful results. So the first rule of relinquishment is to be certain you know what you are about to attempt and why it is important to you. Then begin using one of the methods described in this book, or something else you have found useful. And when the day comes that you feel its effectiveness starting to wane, do not hesitate to try another technique. All remedies eventually lose their efficiency because, to some degree, trust has been placed in mere method. Do not let this fact discourage you. The number of approaches still available will be too numerous to exhaust.

When John was five and Jordan was two, we all used to gather on the king-size bed and let go of the day by picturing a rocket. Before that, we pictured a hot air balloon, but it took too long to get it out of sight. This was a special rocket containing an electromagnetic time capsule. You succumb to this kind of talk when you have a five-year-old boy. With our eyes closed, we silently went back over the day and imagined anything that was still burdening us being dumped into the time capsule: mistakes, regrets, embarrassments, grudges, excitements, as well as fears or longings about the future. After we emptied ourselves of every scene or person that was cluttering our thought, we switched on the magnetic force of the time capsule and imagined it drawing out of us anything we missed. During this final purging process, we counted down from 10 to blast off. I'm not sure where Gail sent her rocket. I aimed mine into a black hole, never to be heard from again. If one of the concerns I released was something that would need attention in the future, I set that worry into high orbit where I couldn't see it, but could get it back when the time came for me to act on it. We have a friend who suggests a simpler approach, imagining putting these bits of unfinished business on a line out of sight, than hauling them in the next day when you have a moment to devote to them. The object is to lift everything from your mind that is of no use to you now that you're going to sleep. The side benefit is that the ego is lessened in the process. A surprising number of our unhappy personal experiences reappear in the form of reactions within any given day. To relinquish the day is also to let go of a portion of the ego itself, and thus make a small but permanent gain in happiness. It is precisely because of this side effect that the practice of letting go of the day is so profound.

Techniques of Release

Schedule your period of relinquishment as close as you can to the time you will fall asleep, and try not to do anything that might agitate you afterwards: phone calls, watching news, making plans, arguing. Unless of course you are bedridden, it is better not to attempt this process while lying down, because your concentration will tend to be divided. Three or four minutes will often suffice, but there may be days when more time can be well used. Quietly review the day, then make the conscious effort to let go of anything that is the least bit disturbing. You needn't expect to achieve perfect release, but it's always possible to attain a reassuring sense that you have been thorough.

Along with the letting go exercises already mentioned, here are four other possibilities.

One. Picture as you, someone for whom you have great respect, reenacting the incident you're attempting to release or, if you like, going through the entire day. See yourself back in the same circumstances, but as some dear friend, as a loving relative from your childhood, as a being of light, as Jesus, as a saint, or whoever else symbolizes purity and innocence to you. Do not ask yourself how this other person would have behaved, but merely think of yourself possessing this individual's perfect gentleness while you imagine going through the incident again. Look through your guide's eyes of peace. Feel your guide's acceptance and tolerance. Then, allow yourself simply to see what happens this time through.

Two. Hold in your mind the individual who has done something that disturbs you and pretend that you can now see all that this person has gone through since birth. Allow yourself to imagine the kinds of circumstances that he or she had to endure at home, at school, and so forth that would explain the behavior, and make it completely understandable. Do not try to discover the facts or kid yourself that you can guess them, but merely relax and have a fantasy of what could have happened that would make the way he or she acted inevitable.

3. See the individual standing before you, and in your own way silently bless this person, or, if you prefer, choose from the following statements: "My ego is no better than yours. You merely made a mistake. I forgive you out of love of what you will become. This is truly not important. In a hundred years there will be no one who even remembers it. In your heart lies the innocence of the child you once were. I want a peaceful mind more than I want this grievance. I would rather be happy than right."

4. My grandmother had a way of releasing difficulties that I looked down on as an adolescent, but now appreciate and frequently use myself. There were many tragedies in her long life, and whenever I would see her during one of these periods, she would often appear completely unaffected. I would ask her how she was doing, knowing all too well the answer. As always she would say, "I'm not worrying about it. I've turned it over to God."

Be certain that you don't try to explain away what others have done or try to reinterpret their behavior in some insincere way. Mental release doesn't come from seeing that what the other person did is somehow okay. It comes from recognizing that attack thoughts are impractical. They make the mental atmosphere in which we dwell chafing and hostile, nor is our aim to shift the blame back on ourself. During this concluding meditation of the day, we wish to restore the mind to a gentle state regardless of what we, this individual, or anyone else has done. We wish to construct a genuine place of peace where we can now take our rest from all the day's stresses. One sure way to do this is to empty our mind so completely that ease and freedom are the only residue.

Sleep Difficulties

Although insomnia perhaps leads the list, there are any number of sleep problems that plague the average person: restlessness, indigestion, itchy skin, fear of the dark, muscle cramps, recurring dreams, night sweats, oversleeping, grinding one's teeth, and so forth. This is not surprising since most people are habitually conflicted about sleeping. Often there is a lingering sense of tasks unfinished or a vague feeling of some moral responsibility going neglected. With others, the fear is more general: a growing realization, now that one more wasted day is passing in tonight, that the dreams they had for their life will never be realized. So as the hour approaches to get some sleep, the nagging feeling arises that some nebulous something should be set right, that it's not fair to sleep when there is work to be done. More often, the person is not aware of these thoughts, but merely feels a little uncomfortable and begins futzing and puttering and once again not getting to bed on time. Notice that the delay is not even devoted to what most needs to be taken care of. It is just more waste added to a day of waste.

Whenever there is a pattern of being late, you can be sure you are conflicted about what you are doing. As with sleep, the answer is not necessarily to eliminate the activity, but to become clear about what you want to do. You do not wish to take these formless fears into your sleep, and it's unnecessary to do so. After you have let the day go and have released your mind from all cares as best you can, take a moment to see that your sole purpose from now until tomorrow morning is to rest both mind and body, and that you have no second purpose. Tell your mind that it is now off duty and there is nothing further you wish it to engage in. Resolve to gently bring your thoughts back to a peaceful idea or fantasy every time they wander into some disquieting consideration. Decide that you will not concern yourself with what you can do nothing about, for there is one good thing you can do, and that is to rest.

Time is a luxury, so if it is feasible, be lavish with the time you provide yourself for getting ready for bed, for repose, and for your morning tasks. Unless circumstances make this impossible, do not crowd yourself on either end. While in bed, your aim should be to rest your mind and not to force your body to sleep. You wish no war of any sort. Your nights can be enjoyable, and they will be if you concern yourself with what you can accomplish, which is to rest your mind by using it more peacefully. You are not wiser in the middle of the night than you will be in the morning. You will not make sound decisions about the future if at the moment you want to do two things at once: rest and worry.

Should you suddenly think of something that will soon require attention, if you need to, put out a reminder, but do not engage your mind in the problem. If you see that you have begun a disturbing line of thought, do not complete it. Simply interrupt it, gently, without self-censure, return your attention to more relaxing pursuits. Think about something that will not stir you up. Any thought that contains love has a calming effect. So think about the funny things your children have done, or imagine yourself gardening if that is what you love. Remember the antics of a pet, or picture yourself in some wonderful spot where you would love the present and would easily have no cares. Be sure not to limit yourself. Anything, mental or physical, that you find restful is perfectly all right. Some people find sexual fantasies restful, and there is certainly no harm in these images. Others like to think what they would do if they suddenly came into a great deal of money. Still others find it restful to think about what they would eat if there were no consequences. These subject matters are not traditionally spiritual, but your purpose here is not to stay within some celestially correct list of thoughts. Your purpose is to rest your mind.

So what, then, rests it? Perhaps you would enjoy silently saying a mantra, an affirmation, or some comforting words that come to you at the moment. One chant that I have sometimes repeated is, "All released, all is peace." I don't usually think these words in time with my breathing, but when I do, I say the first part as I exhale, thinking of anything at all I need to release. And as I inhale, I say the second part and breathe in peace. An application that I find useful is to slowly list the people or circumstances that may still be bothering me. For example, "I release my car and all is peace. I release you," and then I name someone, "and all is peace. I release my stomach, hair, back, nose, whatever part of my body is troubling or embarrassing, and all is peace. I release [name of politician or public figure] and all is peace. I release my life and all is peace."

I personally like to think in devotional terms, and this is especially true at night when I'm falling asleep. I know that some listeners will share this sentiment, so here are several personal examples of a more religious approach. "I drown in God and breathe in peace. I release the world and dissolve in God. I picture myself dropping from the world into a sea of light. The world has been answered; I can go to sleep now. Don't be afraid, little mind. Be still. Be calm. Let go now and rest in peace. There's no place to go. There's nothing to do. God is with me, and all is well."

Because the news breaks and many of the ads and programs on TV appeal strongly to the ego, justified anger, acquisitiveness, fantasies of revenge, physical specialness, tragedy, most television fare can be agitating on an unconscious level, and it's probably not the best way to get back to sleep, or even to unwind before going to bed. Television tends to set the wrong life purpose as well as very subtly stir up the body. For most people, there are happier alternatives. For instance, more control can be exercised over books. It is possible to discover many authors who can be relied on not to jar their readers. And some people find that if they are unable to sleep, reading a little while in a book that is gentle to its characters will often settle their mind to the point where they can sleep. Even if this is not the outcome, it provides them with an alternative way of resting.

I have no idea where I picked up such a silly idea, but for most of my life I would not allow myself to read anything that was not edifying. Reading gradually got to be such an unpleasant activity that the day came when I realized that I had not read a new book of any kind for more than four years. Gail, on the other hand, finished a new English mystery every three or four days, a practice I not so silently looked down on. But now it was inescapable that although she had bad reading habits, I had none. I was a self-made illiterate in a world that abounded with good books. One day I casually asked her if she had read anything that she thought I might enjoy. She said maybe I would like the James Harriot books. She was right. So at age 45, I discovered, for the first time in my adult life, the sheer pleasure of reading, and I now read more books in one year than I had read before in 20. But for all that, I can no longer drop titles at sophisticated parties. Most people are not impressed with my literary references to Carl Hyacin and Georgette Heyer. They smile painfully and head for the brie and smoked salmon on the other side of the room, which, as it turns out, allows me to leave all the earlier and pick up the reluctant work where I left off. Rigid rules, like mine about edifying books, are blind to present needs and do not make happy. For some people, TV, even violent TV is restful. I also know many adolescents and young adults who find even absurdly violent video and internet games funny and releasing. For them, these pastimes dissipate anger and tension, and because they are fantasies, they harm no one. The only rule that serves our happiness is the one that serves the present situation. Behavioral guides can be useful, but only as long as they are tentative. The present must be treated seriously if we are to remain reliably kind, and there is no happiness without kindness, whether it is kindness to our body, our mind, or to those around us.

One final exercise that I sometimes find restful is to list every sensation, thought, and emotion I am aware of, and there are of course hundreds of these available. If I'm having an especially difficult time keeping my mind in the present, I may even number these as I go along. Number one, the dog's snoring. Number two, the pull of the sheet against my neck. 3. A passing thought about full moons. 4. Something mumbling in my stomach. Number five, the cry of a nighthawk diving for insect. Number six, a quickly dismissed question about the protein content of bugs. A common refinement of this exercise is to watch the body breathe without attempting to change it, or to imagine God or the universe filling and emptying our lungs. The reason this type of practice works is that agitation, anxiety, stress, and other unhappy emotions require a past and future in which to operate. Remove these by resting the mind within the present, and mental tranquility is almost automatic. Peace is the very fabric of the mind and therefore its natural state.

Let me reiterate that the mistake most people make when trying to deal with a sleep problem is that they panic, look around for something to blame, and start a mental battle with their sheet-hogging spouse, the clock, their child who needs attending during the night, their pillow or last night's cooking. Obviously it does not follow that one should never try light stretching, Advil plus a short soak in a warm bath, a truly boring book, a glass of warm milk and honey, herbal teas, a late afternoon exercise period, a consultation with an authority, or any other simple external remedy about which there is no strong personal fear. To assume greater responsibility for one's body, especially when this is unhurried and unforced, makes any bodily problem simpler. A calm and intelligent willingness to try things is a part of responsibility. As many have said, it is not helpful to fight yourself. To put this another way, never deal directly with the ego, yours or anyone else's, for you will merely strengthen it by increasing your belief in its autonomy. Children do not get rid of their imaginary playmates by cursing them. What is imaginary leaves when what is real becomes more interesting. Our ego, our imaginary identity, is best seen clearly than left behind. It is merely a place of no peace, and to start a slugging match with it always strengthens its hold on our mind. We don't have to quickly do something because we feel a pang of jealousy, depression, fear or sadness; we simply begin turning from discord to harmony in some restful way. We merely take one or two steps in the direction of the restful side of our mind.

The How and When of Waking Up

The final part of our brief preparation for sleep may be to decide how we will wake up. Most people decide when, but very few decide how. How we live our life and not what activities and people it consists of that determines the depth of our enjoyment. Once this is understood, our need to be always changing things begins to dissolve. Often it's not good to wait until morning to choose how we will awake. During sleep the mind enters an almost pure ego state. In a sense, sleep is dreams about a dream. It is twice removed from reality. That is why it often takes an effort to shift into our saner mental regions. But this can be made easier by knowing in advance what the first thing is we plan to do with our mind. We have already covered several possible forms our first efforts might take, but what I want to stress here is that because of the dominance of the ego during sleep, our purpose is already set. We must reset it if we wish to avoid taking into our day the same conflicting values that we had in our dreams.

Obviously, there can be moments of insight and sanity during sleep, and occasionally these are so powerful that the mind wakes in a lifted state. However, these moments are not as frequent as many people like to believe. Yet, this belief is not without consequences, because it tends to deny the negative momentum that the mind has built up by morning. This is not something to either fear or fight. Simply notice that a question about a dream once taken up never comes completely to rest. Therefore, be questionless. Do not waste time trying to understand. Turn instead to the light of happiness so that it will be light rather than questions that you carry with you into the day. As I stressed earlier, in all endeavors, including repose, try hard and expect very little of yourself. The world attempts to live the opposite rule, and although it is always undergoing some promising new change, it has never once moved close to happiness. This need not be your lot, for when you focus on the means and not the end, on your effort and not its outcome, on the present and not the future, you quietly shift from slight outer accomplishments to immense inner gain.

Chapter 10 Jobs

Cutting Back on Problems

The next four chapters deal with jobs, decisions, money, and possessions. Setting aside our body and relationships, which I discuss at the end of the book, these four topics might be called typical areas of conflict. You may disagree, but just try making a list of typical areas of conflict. You would need to set aside several hours because your list could extend into the night and out the other end. I realize that jobs, decisions, money and possessions are quite arbitrary, but think of them as examples. For unless you do, you may believe that I have left out several of your favorite problems. It's not inappropriate to impute favoritism in our choice of problems. We are all collectors, and our personalities are just the display cases. We think, talk, and act problems. Secretly, we often see the insanity of other people's choices. But our concerns are real, and we feel personally attacked should anyone fail to adequately toast our problem du jour. Yet, so trivial are most of our cares that it's often impossible to remember what we thought was important only last week. The happiness of an entire family can be shattered by just one argument, yet by the next day, no one can agree on the incident that started it all. Have as few problems as possible. This policy will serve you well. Our ego does need some things to gnaw on, but it doesn't need every size chew stick made.

Listeners need not add the four areas mentioned to their personal list of worries. It's just fine to love your job, to make decisions easily, to have no money problems to speak of, the ultimate criterion, and not to identify with your possessions. In fact, it's quite possible, and a good exercise, to make a thorough list of your problems and to check off a few as no longer of real interest. It surprises many people that this can actually be done. It's also possible to draw in the boundaries of our concerns. This concept was new to me until a few years ago, but Gail and I have been working on it with good results. We decided to put limits on our worries. Only our family, its paraphernalia, and our closest friends are now permissible. Things like the economy, other people's religions, the mysterious decision-making process of the city streets department, and Tucson newcomers' tastes in landscaping are now mentally off bounds. We have even given up trying to reform our parents and siblings, at best an act of fantasy, much to their relief.

However, it's good to keep the agitated part of the mind harmlessly engaged. Questions such as, "What is the most natural dishwasher soap? Is our dog gaining too much weight? I say yes. Does the cat need a friend? And is there truly an educational institution or employer worthy of our children?" our legitimate trains of thought, provided we don't get too loud about them. After a few years of team effort, we are happy to report that the mind is very amenable to this form of training. Therefore, except for the general applications, please don't take the next four chapters too personally, unless of course you already have difficulties in these areas. Perhaps pick through the points presented as you would through a box of assorted chocolates when everyone has left the room. I hope that most of the concepts discussed are simple enough to use in many areas of your life.

Your Job Reveals Nothing About You

I don't recall how old I was when I discovered that if I answered architect instead of fireman to the question, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" I got a more satisfying reaction from adults, and I still remember vague feelings of guilt about not knowing what an architect did. Today, some kids are discovering that firefighter receives better marks than architect or the like. However, we know one six-year-old living in the Tucson foothills who is quite firm about becoming a venture capitalist. All of this is harmless because children seem to enjoy this verbal game as much as adults. But a few years later, the same question can be terrifying if teenagers feel pressured to divine what high school specialty or college major will best serve them for the rest of their lives. Most parents know that the young person's distress over this is usually without foundation, since so few of us ended up doing what our education prepared us for. Our children should never be scared into thinking that choosing the right occupational specialty is crucial to their future happiness.

Believing that appearances are everything, Western culture naturally concludes, "You are what you do." During our middle span of life, the seemingly affable question, "What do you do?" really means, "Are you somebody?" Perhaps most of us think too much about how to word our answer should some stranger at a party ask us this question. Even though if we just took a moment to look at our feelings, we would see that we really don't care what a stranger thinks. You would suppose it would be self-evident that a person's means of earning a living reveals only the most superficial and insignificant information about what he or she is. Yet the issue of career has become a source of great unhappiness. It is now generally assumed that anyone is capable of doing anything. All you have to do is want it bad enough. Why then, our society asks, have you settled for work that is mediocre or boring? We should somehow be more creative, more athletic, more humanitarian, more productive, more prosperous, more something.

So tangled up with our job are our feelings of self-worth that businesses, if they want their fair share of good employees, must periodically revise job titles to make the same work sound more impressive. We have actually gotten to the point of rejecting people for not doing more than they do. We ourselves cannot sidestep the disgust, however mild, we think we have reserved only for others. Surely, it doesn't have to be proved that all of this is insane. Yet, if we wish to be happy, we must free ourselves from this point of view. We are not what we do; we are how we do it. Vigils do not think better of themselves by engaging in a selection of activities currently considered to be impressive, nor do they recognize their worth by avoiding them. You will know that you are good when you consistently bring goodness to all you do. If the job is to straighten and clean for a small family, your work is no less holy than, for instance, that of a personnel manager, who hires and fires hundreds of employees for a large corporation. We have such silly ideas of what is important work. Or far-reaching activity could there be than devoting oneself to helping a child be happy and unafraid and develop into a decent, kind adult? How many people will this one child touch within a lifetime? Is seeing to this young person's happiness really less significant than composing music, designing websites, breathing with your tongue in the yogic position, being socially in demand, or living up to your earning potential?

Your Career Forms Behind You

Most people have never stopped to ask themselves exactly what it is they're seeking in place of a good life now. There simply is no such thing as a career. Thank you. People talk about pursuing a career as if all the turns were already mapped out and their destination sat there waiting for them as solid and immovable as the town civic center. Thank you. Except for the straight-line promotions within organizations such as the Armed Services, a few large corporations, and some branches of civil service, none of us advances to our goal with a predictable precision. Where this appears to happen, a closer examination shows a nest of entangling exceptions: employees' health and will to endure, exigencies of location, family demands, government allocations, and the goodwill of superiors. It is not realistic to think in terms of arriving at the top of your profession. There is no perfectly defined profession and no true top.

Our trail through life can be seen only in retrospect. It does all add up, but not in advance of the steps taken. If each small step is guided by the present instead of by a hodgepodge of fears about the future, we can discern a lovely wake flowing from the actions we have taken, including our mistakes. There is a beauty and a just rightness within the course of most people's lives, but so often the individual is blinded to this by constant worry and second guessing. The only career move you can be certain about is whether you feel at peace in the present about a step that is possible to take today. No one can adequately define all the consequences, see all the people this step will affect, accurately determine the ramifications in each of these individuals' lives. We merely delude ourselves if we think our vision is that free of distortion. Why, then, attempt to resolve interminable future implications when it's simply not possible to do so? Instead of the fantasy of a glowing future, why not settle for the very real possibility of a satisfying present? Nothing has to be decided in advance.

When we attempt to translate a fantasy into a worldly event, the result is a different order of reality. Like most people, I have run through many such fantasies in my life. My mental pictures of what it would be like to be a sculptor, a ranch hand, secondary school teacher, Christian science practitioner, real estate broker, guidance counselor, construction worker, circuit lecturer, and a few other false starts were so unlike the reality of the work I ended up engaged in that it's funny to me now that I thought I could see in advance what my life would be like within these fields. A fantasy does not give first-hand experience. That is why, no matter how informed we think we are, we don't know beforehand what will make us happy. Nor is there any reason to know, since it's the degree to which we have developed our capacity to enjoy the present and not our job classification that determines our happiness. This doesn't mean that very little care needs to be taken in choosing one's way of making a living. It means only that our freedom from conflict over whether today to ask for an interview, enroll in a class, question someone within a certain line of work, or buy a book or two on a particular field is a more reliable basis for making a decision than our fantasy of a future course of action that will entail hundreds of separate choices. Our desire to anticipate every move we will to struggle to control a future that cannot be controlled. All we need do is take the obvious steps before us today and let our sense of direction clarify as we proceed.

As touched on before, there is also a strong tendency to get ourselves into a difficult situation, then think we must see it through to the bitter end. Trusting in fantasies instead of our present perception is a major contributor to this pattern. To decide beforehand what kind of job we deserve can cause as much unhappiness as deciding what kind of child we have a right to, as many parents unconsciously do. In their mind is a constantly escalating standard of acceptable manners, the proper height, an adequate IQ, sufficient social skills, a pleasing appearance, and so forth. Inevitably, the child fails in some respect and feels his parents' disapproval. Disapproval is directly opposed to appreciating children and working with them toward their, rather than our own, feelings of well-being. And just as with a child, a job must be looked at in the present, taken as it is and given time. Relax into your destiny. Let each workday come to you. Watch it approach without suspicion. Expect happiness from yourself, but expect nothing from the job. Take each task as it comes and do not peer over it to the next task. Don't rush to complete it or rush toward some hour on the clock. We need not stay on guard to see that a job is not working out and to quit it, but we do have to let down our guard to enjoy what we have predefined as work. We may not be able to change the task, but we are always free to change our definition of our function within it.

Finding a Job

Our discussion so far may seem insensitive to the many people who sincerely want to work but can't find employment. This is an extremely complex and difficult issue, and the factors within individual cases can vary so dramatically that any generalizations I make here will be unfair in light of at least some people's plight. Although there are countless exceptions, I believe a few things can be said that apply to some of those who find themselves in this predicament. Many people, far more than consciously realize it, make themselves walk a very narrow path in finding work. For instance, there are entire categories of jobs they won't consider because of a self-image they believe must be maintained. Other occupations go unexplored because of their conviction that society, the economy, the present controlling minority big business or some other generalized enemy should not be forcing this kind of choice, and they must stand alone against this outrage, even if it means their family's well-being. "I won't work for a company that..." "I won't live in a place where..." "I won't take orders from a boss who..." And yet it does not have to be this way. Clearly we should never do what is morally intolerable, but so often this is not the real issue. We think we must be right at all costs.

Another hampering bias is directed curiously at ourselves. Most people tend to look down on what they do best. This is further evidence of our aversion to what is easy and simple; our areas of greatest strength are usually the ones we designate for the harshest scrutiny. And if we look for fault anywhere long enough, we are sure to find it. Instead of doing what we know how to do, which often is the work we can do most peacefully, we assume that the higher pursuit is to enter a new field altogether, especially one that fits the current definition of meaningful work. Seldom is it sufficient to simply earn a living. Better to have an erratic income and be able to give the impression that we are sacrificing ourselves to set the world straight.

The reverse of this attitude is also a hindrance to finding a job and is perhaps even more prevalent. Salary, not job description, is the dominant consideration. People feel insulted or embarrassed at the starting salary of many jobs and opt for no income instead of taking what is available today. Their assumption is that by being out of work entirely they stay in a better position to take advantage of future opportunities. But this discounts the sometimes positive attitudinal effects of doing something. In 30 years of counseling couples, I have heard the following argument between girlfriend and boyfriend, husband and wife, hundreds of times: First partner: "Isn't some job better than no job?" Second partner: "No. If I'm working at this piddling job you think I should take, I can't interview for the kind of job I could get." Watching these arguments play out over many years, I have noticed that the person who takes a lesser job often ends up with a better job more quickly than the person who waits for the right job. No spiritual laws at work here, and sometimes the person who waits is later justified. But I believe that deciding what to do today usually works out better than taking a stand that locks us into only one option day after day.

Unfortunately, our friends are sometimes the ones most likely to distract us from our own quiet knowing. As a general rule, you will be less confused and consequently miss fewer opportunities if you decide for yourself whether a job fits your present needs, and not open yourself to conflict by discussing decisions you are in the middle of, except, of course, with the people your decisions affect directly. Strengthen your mind by reminding yourself that you are in the best position to know what you should be doing. And after you have started a job, save yourself the pangs of doubt by talking as little as possible about the inevitable problems that accompany a transition of this sort. Few people can resist an opportunity to sow confusion, so do not give them one. Do not be afraid to stay close to your heart and to keep your own counsel. Do not be afraid to know. Do not be afraid to doubt. And do not be afraid to turn to the stillness within you and ask for help.

The Problem with Getting the Right Job

Another hindrance to finding a job, although perhaps a less conscious one, is the premise that the job choice one is making is permanent. Out there awaits some lasting and just right niche. The only real problem is locating it. And yet, there really is no right job. This "is right" implies "this is permanent." It shouldn't, but it does. How many of us could believe that we had finally found the right job, or worse, were guided or led to it, and still feel free to quit at the end of the first day? Given this approach, it should not be surprising that most people's major concern is to avoid making a mistake. If you believe in the existence of a right job, you will also look on other jobs as wrong, at least for you. Look at the position this attitude puts us in: since there is a job that is best for us, most of the work that comes to our attention is a potential mistake, and our life is like walking through a minefield. Should we already have a job? We can't help harboring the suspicion that we chose wrongly. We think we can somehow believe in the existence of a right course of action in one area of our life, yet not believe in it in every other area. Because this is impossible, most people suspect they also married the wrong person, which means they must have the wrong children, bought or rented the wrong place to live in so the neighbors aren't what they should be.

And probably ate the wrong cereal for breakfast. I don't think any of us has managed to escape this outlook entirely. No more absolute and awful tyranny reigns than our fear of being wrong.

We have a simple choice. We can try to avoid all mistakes or we can relax. In seeking a job, it is good to drop the notion that the universe has tucked away some haloed position just for you. Now at least you will not be haunted by the vague feeling that somehow you're not going about this job-finding business in the correct way. There are a thousand correct ways, because there are a thousand peaceful ways. Do not remain in fear. The elimination of fear is the beginning of vision and to give ourselves a broad range of options permits us to see opportunities we were blind to before.

It is not uncommon for an individual who is unable to find a paying job to take volunteer work or to begin helping someone for free and suddenly have a salaried position. Or sometimes several at once become available, much like the classic example of the couple who cannot bear children decide to adopt and instantly become fertile. Once again, there is not a spiritual law at work in these instances, but to the degree our mind is relieved of fear, we feel and experience more connection and more harmony. And it is an observable fact that action often, although not always, lifts fear. For example, adopting might increase some couple's fear. The willingness to act in a simple, direct way usually loosens the mind's grip on its problems. The precise external results are not predictable, and adoption does not automatically render a couple fertile. And volunteer work does not consistently manifest a paying job. Nevertheless, openness to starting and continuing the small steps involved in walking around a problem will eventually result in leaving the problem behind. Overt manifestations of willingness reduce inner conflict, and an unconflicted mind can step over any hindrance.

Chapter 11 Decisions How to Make a Decision

We humans have a very interesting and peculiar way of deciding what to do in life. Decisions come far more rapidly than most people realize at first. They are, in fact, continuous. Thus, our individual choices are not as important as they seem. Yet, our approach to making all decisions is vital, for it lays before us the terrain we must travel. This isn't to say that some decisions are not more life-affecting than others, for in terms of how they influence the outward course of things, they are indeed. They are not, however, more happiness-affecting. It isn't necessary to have one way of deciding what color potatoes to buy and another way for choosing a job. Actually, the belief that a more perfect answer is required for a larger question initiates the turmoil we get ourselves into. Regardless of how dramatic the circumstances surrounding a question, all we need is an answer that comes from peace. Perhaps the one difference in how choices about work, divorce, operations, money, moving, and other anxiety-riddled subjects should be made is that more care should be taken to see that they are done in the same peaceful way. When deciding fearful questions, the temptation is greater to fall back into the old habit of deciding them fearfully.

Our usual approach to choosing what to do is to consider alternatives. Reaction is so embedded in us that it's difficult even to raise doubt as to its practicality. If it were no more than a calm reviewing of options, it would cause no harm. But it is not calm, and it quickly eliminates good options. Awareness, concentration, and sustained effort are needed to break this habit. Notice that after just a few moments of considering alternatives, the mind becomes scattered and inefficient. The reason for this is that there is no end of things to consider. We sense that we have taken our seat on a never-ending merry-go-round. The potential for scaring ourselves is great, since we are anxious to escape this mental snare. Thus, we frequently make a second mistake. We act in the face of our conflict. Because it has that look about it, we call this being decisive. But a decision made in conflict produces conflicted results, thereby adding to our mental chaos, whereas a decision arrived at in a gentle and restful state of mind doesn't disrupt our core of happiness. Once you develop the habit of deciding all things with your quietness, your life, including relationships, health, and finances, will begin to smooth out and simplify. You will not magically be given advantages over other people, but the outward circumstances of your life, which your decisions affect, will increasingly accommodate rather than sabotage your desire to be happy.

To make good decisions, we must train ourselves to focus on our state of mind rather than on the unanswered question. As long as our attention is on the question, our mind remains unfit to choose in the interest of happiness. This is not harmless because our experience is a continuous outpouring of our mental environment. Deciding from peace eventually becomes automatic, but much practice is needed. It is less fear-provoking to practice first with smaller everyday choices before applying this new procedure to major life-affecting ones, such as choosing a job. To this end, here is a summary of decision-making guidelines. Most of them have been touched on previously, but not in one place.

When you see that you have a question, stop. Do this before you begin considering alternatives and their ramifications, because shortly after you start worrying, your mind becomes fear-dominated and it's more difficult to go back and make an unconflicted decision. Settle and still your mind. Use any mental or physical trick that helps. You don't have to attain some mystical state of calm, but you do have to take enough time to be sure that you are as peaceful as you are able to be at this moment. Look very closely at the problem. Take your time and make sure that you see all parts of it clearly. Remember not to scare yourself by imagining consequences that could result from various solutions. In fact, don't think about answers at all. Just examine the problem calmly and thoroughly. If you need to do a little formal research, do so happily. Look into your heart and ask yourself if there is anything you want to do about this problem now, today. Trying to decide before it's time to decide will do no more than pollute the present. If there is nothing you wish to do, or if it's not yet clear what you want to do, decide to wait. Never be afraid to wait. But remember that waiting is a decision, so be sure to do it without conflict. It's okay to decide quickly, and it's okay to wait. Peace is the only consideration.

If you do want to act in the present, be certain that you are not limiting your options in any way. It may help to list as many of these as possible, but do not rank or evaluate them. If you see that there is something specific you want to try first, carry it out easily and happily. Do not reconsider. Instead of attempting to judge whether your decision was correct, recall that your mental state was sound when you made it and questionable now that you're worrying. If what you try doesn't sufficiently lessen the problem, simply try something else. If you keep doing this, deciding from your peace what you wish to do in the present and acting on it with assurance, you will eventually put the problem behind you. This is as inevitable as light dispelling darkness.

Deciding Where to Be

If you are seeking a job, don't make the mistake of presuming there is a way to recognize the position that awaits you. Attempting to do this is attempting to rely on magic through a kind of divining of signs. By miraculous coincidence, the regular receptionist is absent. And in talking to the substitute, I discover that this person's mother has the same unusual first name as my mother. Ah, I think this is the job I'm meant to have. And during the interview, I blow my chances by saying so. Or knowing that reasoning was not perfect or the signs not complete, if I do get the position, I remain fearful that this may not be the one the angels were indicating. And this uncertainty hinders my performance and gets me fired. You will be taking no risk, and you will definitely increase your happiness if you assume that wherever you are today, you are supposed to be. And whatever work you are doing is right. Then do the job at hand honestly. No gain comes from dampening down our spirit or from feeding our minds reasons to doubt. Doing something well never blocks, but only increases our ability to discern that the time has now come to move on, should that time come.

So often we believe that in order to turn from something, we must first find fault with it. If we quit, we must denounce our former employer. A friend must become a disappointment before we can stop being romantically involved. A spiritual organization or teacher must be presumed dangerous if we feel like moving on. But why should our participation make something good and our leaving make it bad? A happy person enters and leaves in peace.

None of this implies that there are no genuine indicators as to whether you should give a particular job a try or leave the one you're in. A sense of comfort about the people with whom you would be working is often a reliable form of inner knowing, but it will not tell you how far you will advance, how long you will be employed there, or even whether you will be hired in the first place. This sense is not mystical but rather the beginning of true intelligence. It is a feeling something like this: You see that your mind comes to rest when you think of this place and these people. It is not a feeling of excitement about your prospective good fortune, nor is it even a liking of the people or the facilities. You merely find that you are comfortable with the thought of taking this job. It is an adequate job for now.

This calm instinct about people and places can, of course, be applied to other circumstances besides employment. To do so does not provide objective knowledge about the world, because an uncomfortable situation for one person is not so regarded by another, nor does this sense of things entail analyzing and discussing personalities. And it most definitely is not the sad cataloging of individuals for what some refer to as their enemies list. I am speaking of the ability to see things as they are in the present and not the tiring habit of avoiding certain people or establishments because of something disagreeing that once happened. It is simply a natural realization of whether a particular relationship, a certain place, a specific kind of situation will make it easier or more difficult for us to be happy. Such understanding is not fodder for gossip, nor are die-hard rules of behavior formulated as a result. This same calm knowing is sensitive to the changes continually occurring in individuals and places. Once it's developed, it is a valuable sensitivity that can gently guide you to where you wish to do your banking, buy your groceries and your gas, what restaurants you want to frequent, as well as what job you wish to take or continue.

If where we place ourselves over and over is disturbing, it's unlikely that the overall happiness of our life will remain unaffected. As you go about running your usual errands for the next week or two mentally and whenever feasible physically, pause once you are within each place—store, laundry, gas station, friend's house, church, bank—and gently ask yourself, "Is this a happy place?" Do not give yourself a verbal answer, but carry the question into the place the way you might wear a new pair of glasses. Be conscious of any tendency to form the answer from your memory of what has taken place there in the past, or from whether your eyes like the class of people in decor, or what the cost in time or money is to you, or a hundred other factors irrelevant to the overall atmosphere into which you have just walked. You wish merely to be sensitive to the degree of ease or discontent, peace or anger, good or ill will. In other words, to the degree of happiness that surrounds you.

Immediately after you leave, stop again and ask, "Have I just left a happy place?" Do not answer the question in your mind, but let it come to you quietly in its own time. Once you believe you have seen the answer, if you find yourself talking against this place to others, I can assure you that you have seen nothing as yet, because the kind of vision I am speaking of is not a judgment, nor is it a decision about what is wrong or right for other people. It is only a simple recognition of what is best for you at this time.

If you realize that a place is not happy, this, of course, does not always mean that it would be easier on you to not frequent it. For example, it will not make you more content with life to abruptly stop visiting your parent or child, even though you might see that this relative's home is unhappy and that it's difficult for you to be there. Nor does recognizing the pervading mood of a place imply that you now have a reason to fear it. By becoming more aware of the atmosphere you have chosen to enter, perhaps you will now take the time to clear your mind of all conflict, so that as you walk into this place, you bring your ease and enjoyment with you and, as you leave, you carry no emotion that could chip away at your happiness.

No Decision Is an Island

Work hours, times of worship, the time one comes home to one's partner, dinner hours, and the like, are ordinarily thought of as separate islands of purpose or choice within the day. But this idea makes any unifying theme to one's life an impossibility. Thus, it would appear feasible to limit oneself to just a few key purposes at key times. It might seem enough to have a nutritious meal in the morning, to pursue one's career during the day, in the evening to be entertained, and then to get a good night's sleep. But as an approach to life, to want even a limited amount of fragmentation gives us a mindset that contains no safeguards, no self-limiting boundaries.

If you are like most of us, a typical segment of the day is likely to go like this: You come home from work and see that you are out of toilet paper. It's an hour before the evening news, and you calculate that you can just make it to Safeway and back. You pick up the keys and walk to the car. Now, as you get in and turn on the ignition, what is foremost in your mind? What is your purpose in life? Is it to idle the car long enough to eliminate the risk of wear to the engine? Or is it to put the car in gear immediately to cut back on the risk of being late for the news? Your inner conflict is almost unconscious, even though there is a slight but perceptible undercurrent of guilt as you choose saving time over prolonging the life of the engine and bolt from the driveway, or a little stab of anxiety as you just sit there idling the car while the seconds tick away and the first and most important segment of the news begins flowing away from you, like an ice cream cone held uneaten in the sun.

If your spouse is with you, and if his or her ego position on this differs, a thought critical of you such as, "How did I marry someone so cheap?" Or, "You've never liked this car because I'm the one who picked it out," flicks through your spouse's mind practically unnoticed, but not entirely unfelt by you. At the first intersection, you wonder which way you should turn. Is your purpose in life now to protect your self-image? For if it is, you should not turn right and go to Ralph's Food Market, even though it's ten minutes closer, because the last time you were there, you told Ralph you were never coming back. This time, the wrong decision might even draw a comment from your spouse. As you drive to Safeway, should physical safety take precedence over making the lights? Perhaps a brief argument breaks out in the car over this one: "You ran a red light again, dear." "No, dear, I didn't. It was yellow as I entered the intersection." A long silence, then quite innocently you ask, "Were you able to get an appointment with Dr. what's-her-name, you know, dear, your ophthalmologist friend?" Because, suddenly, the purpose of life is to be right. You're in the Safeway lot and now your life purpose is to get the parking place nearest the entrance. But as you turn to back into it, someone pulls in ahead of you, even though you clearly had the right of way. You are so angry about this that, for the moment, this grievance is more important than the latest war that was just announced on your car radio.

The point we are forever missing is that the whole of life is always for the moment. While we stay lost in what is already over and done with, they moved the toilet paper. Why is the store always reorganizing its stock? Or in what is yet to be. The news is in 12 minutes and as usual there's no checkout person at the express lane. Our life remains patiently in the moment, waiting for us to recognize it. The unhappiness of this entire situation was caused not by Ralph, or the lights, or the speedy parker. It was caused by the same mental state that continues to torture us as we wheel into our driveway, just missing the neighbor's wiener dog, only to find that the news has been preempted by a funeral special. We are upset, yet we have so many purposes that we don't even know if we want to watch the news. We have never paused long enough to look into our heart to see. A true purpose is a decision made with grandeur instead of smallness.

Hopeless Mistakes

There are no permanent mistakes. If something begins as a mistaken decision, and perhaps everything we do does to some degree, it doesn't have to remain that way. Yet, the moment a mistake transforms into a spurt of learning is up to us. It's important to keep in mind that changing the original form of what we suspect was a mistake—by quitting our job, dumping our partner, moving, trading in our car—is not an essential first step. We are not learning what is a good or bad outward form for things to take. We are, in fact, already weighed down with these kinds of fragmented lessons. The advance in learning that takes us to another level of happiness is the transfer of mental wholeness, already recognizable under some circumstances, into new areas of our life. Naturally, this doesn't mean there are no changes that would make things easier. However, our level of happiness remains unaffected if all we do is make changes.

Most people's first response to a feeling of discontent is to start rummaging around in their lives for what's wrong. Since nothing there is perfect, they quickly find fault with something, and trying to change it becomes their primary focus. Some form of this syndrome constitutes the bulk of activity in most people's lives, either hurrying around to fix the latest perceived affliction, or turning away in resignation because it's probably hopeless. Happiness becomes much simpler once we realize that it starts with a strong, whole, peaceful state of mind, and then very gently extends outward. If a change is undertaken, it's because it may make our way a little simpler, and not to set things right. If we begin in a worried, agitated state, the changes we make carry with them an air of anxiety and defeat. All we see is that they, too, are not perfect. And once again we begin a disjointed search for what more can be rectified. Or we turn away and suffer a little death.

"Make your living with your left foot," is an ancient Eastern saying. Don't let your livelihood be the aim of your existence. Do your job well. In fact, do it magnificently. But don't take it out of context and make it the end you seek. The same can be said for our health, car, wardrobe, or reputation. If we wish to be happy, our function must remain the same under all circumstances. We carry with us an atmosphere, one that is strong and whole or one that is fragmented. Since this is our choice, we must be conscious of which we carry. Let not circumstances choose for us, or we will feel scattered and to some degree unreal. Often the reason we seem of no contribution is that we contribute very little from our heart. Yet, events seem to snatch away the best of us before we can extend it. Please allow me to repeat one suggestion: Decide on one all-encompassing motive for all that you do. Do this today, and your way will instantly become simpler. Why are you here? Do you know what your purpose is? What would you like it to be? Because that is what it will be. Live, work, and breathe for your life, for your loved ones, for the strangers you encounter, for all of you. Most people have never stopped to ask why they bother going on doing anything. Consequently, nothing they do is ever for the same purpose twice. Make the present happy by making it the same as every other part of your life.

Chapter 13 Money

What Is Money For?

The world sends out two basic messages about money. First, nothing is more desirable. And second, isn't that a shame? It really shouldn't be that way. So, always we want more of it, but always it remains tainted. Of all the topics on which the mind can dwell, money is one of the most miserable. "I could use some more money" produces a dull distress in almost every heart. Few have remained untouched by all the contradictions and guilt that swirl around the subject. Most of us can't even go out and purchase a few vegetables without feeling a tinge of self-disgust for not having driven the extra miles necessary to buy them for less. Or if we did go out of our way to get a better value, we have fleeting thoughts of how tight we are or how uncharitably we use our time. After all, Mother Teresa never wasted a day trying to find carrots at three cents less a pound.

I remember well an early realization of just how unhappy a preoccupation with money can be. It was pointed out to me when I was still quite young that I had three wealthy relatives. Questions of who would inherit and how much were often discussed with overtones of great excitement within our family. And so my daydreams began. Even a very young person can recognize that these thoughts offer no refuge. To fantasize about this kind of thing, you must wish for someone to die and for others to be out of favor. Then, of course, there are the guilty considerations of whether you deserve to have a lot of money come to you in this way, which, as it turned out, was a worry I need never have bothered myself about. Possibly you have seen firsthand how insensitively people can act when property is being divided, picking and squabbling over the deceased's furniture and jewelry, and in the process forming grudges and personal shames that can be carried for a lifetime. But this is just one of the numerous pathetic outcomes of our culture's inordinate fascination with money. There are also the tactics many are tempted to use to get a promotion. The unkind way we parade our purchases before friends. And the years we absent ourselves from loved ones in pursuit of what? This is the central question that goes unasked about money: What is it for? We believe that we never have enough, that somehow we must get more, and that we will rest easy only when we have more than enough. But how much is more than enough? And does that concept even have meaning? The fact is that our desired destination is so vague that there is no way we can ever reach it.

My sister-in-law told me that a friend of hers called one day and asked if she would like to go with him to meet a really wealthy man. On their way over, she could see that her friend was very excited. "This man makes over 12 million a year," he said. Clearly, he was unimpressed with the $2.5 million a year he himself made. The point is not that money is somehow bad, but that the desire for money contains within it no stopping place.

Yet, nearly everyone has need of at least some money. And so the failure to ask, "What is it for?" can lead to still another unhappy predisposition: the belief that money defiles, that it is at best a necessary evil, and that to give up as many symbols of prosperity as possible somehow makes one a better person. Specifically, this point of view may include notions that it's a higher path not to consider salary when selecting a job; that to resist putting money in tax shelters, investments, or even savings is less self-seeking, less spiritually stultifying; that having a large wardrobe, owning a luxury car, or living in an affluent neighborhood are reliable signs of personal shallowness. This outlook is sometimes pushed to the point where all purchases are made with inordinate concern and only out of the strictest necessity. Anything brand new, such as a new car or TV, is automatically viewed with suspicion. It can even be applied to the amount of food one eats or the number of hours one sleeps, less of both indicating a more spiritually-minded individual.

To ask, "What is it for?" puts money back into context. Money is simply a means, a medium, a way. If we stop to worship the road that leads to a desired location, we never arrive. Likewise, our progress ceases if we pause to detest it. Many people make a similar mistake in expecting something from particular days of the week or times of the year. The holiday season, Saturday night, their birthday, the equinox, or some other number on a calendar is given importance in itself. And, subconsciously, they bide their time, awaiting some undefined acknowledgement from the universe. But on this day, as on every other day, the earth revolves and the sun sets without incident. The highest number of suicides occurs around Christmas. I know from my work on a crisis hotline that many people who feel suicidal that time of year have had, once again, a great expectation dashed. Although they're unable to see this, it had to be dashed. The 25th of December is incapable of doing anything, and so too is the number on a bill or stock certificate. It is bloodless, lifeless, and totally innocent. It's just a number. Unlike people, money is what money does. These little metal discs and slips of paper are merely a way of obtaining certain externals, but not the only way. Their helpfulness or hurtfulness cannot exceed the tiny range of things they can bring to us. There have been countless songs and jokes, as well as essays, sermons, and books on what money can't buy, and this is indeed helpful to recognize. So much of the disappointment brought by the pursuit of or flight from money comes from associating it with irrelevancies such as self-respect, future happiness, finding a person who truly loves us, being a winner, or in some other way, feeling more satisfied than others.

Fear of Money

There are so many wealthy people who are obviously unhappy that this recognition can lead to the assumption that if we find ways of renouncing money, we decrease our chances of being miserable. It is true that, just like anything else that sets us apart, having enormous wealth makes life more difficult. Yet, how could merely reducing our financial options bring to us something of value? The ancient wisdom that love of money is behind much of the evil of the world is true, and so too are hate and fear of money. Can quitting one's job and turning instead to grubbing, scrounging, and groveling bring peace of mind? Those who do usually become so obsessed with obtaining simple necessities that their minds drown in the world rather than rise above it. Seeking more than enough or less than enough cannot set the issue of money to rest. Only the lessening of fear around the entire subject will help. A good overall rule might be: Money is not important. Therefore, do whatever allows you to not be preoccupied with it.

Many problems in life can be resolved by our accepting a daily solution rather than continuing to chase after a permanent one. For example, there may be a permanent answer to dental hygiene, but most people would rather brush their teeth every day than to search for some final resolution. They're not in conflict about this, so the time spent in front of the bathroom sink is not a burden. Many people who know in their hearts that they are alcoholics hold themselves in misery by insisting that there must be a way for them to continue drinking. Possibly there is, but those who decide that from now on they will attend an AA meeting every night settle the question and go on with their lives. Likewise, a job, even though it can consume half one's waking life, is an excellent way of diminishing anxiety about where the necessary funds will come from. Most of the alternatives people turn to, such as get-rich-quick schemes, marrying for money, gambling in various forms, and skirting the law, are far more fear-provoking than simply going to work every day. Of course, it's possible to obtain all the money one will ever need virtually overnight, but short of inheriting it or winning the lottery. This is so contrary to the general course of things that people usually spend as much time trying to get rich quickly and not succeeding as they would at a regular job, and more time by far worrying.

In recent years, the yearning for a way of life that is good and positively affecting has grown enormously. Many now find themselves wanting not only to be of help, but also to be of help in a direct and consistent way. Along with this desire, which in most cases is sincere and deeply felt, there can be considerable ego involvement. At the same time, there is a widespread belief that runs like this: "If you will just relax and trust a little, somehow it will all work out. And if perchance it doesn't, you will see that this, too, was a good thing." That bit of wisdom is actually true, but it's not true on the level of experience to which it is usually applied. What is implied here is that there are ways, especially mental or spiritual ways, to have all our worldly desires met without following the usual worldly procedures. In fact, it is often part of this belief that the requisite inner state may be jeopardized if you do go by the rules. Consequently, we now see many people living without economy, keeping inadequate or no track at all of their income and expenses, possessing no clear idea of where their money is going, or giving up their jobs altogether and waiting anxiously for God or the universe to care for them. And there may even be a period in which all of this appears to work wonderfully well. Discounted, however, are the times they must scurry about for money or, in some cases, sustain an almost non-stop fear about the future. We can't hope to stabilize our life if there is an inherent pattern of fear already set up. The truth is that a daily sense of economy is more conducive to peace than a daily sense of waste. We can't add to our happiness by destroying what we think of as real. In order to reach the degree of happiness that tranquility can bring, the question of how our needs are to be met should not be approached in a wishful manner. To conduct our affairs so that we feel secure about our income, and so that our spending practices seem wise and good, cannot possibly hinder our capacity to develop a higher trust or to flow easily with life circumstances. A stable source of income is less apt to spawn mental conflict than an unstable one. These ideas are not a call for sacrifice and scrimping, nor does anyone need to become mercenary. Rather, they are a plea for simplicity and intelligence. There is no magic to money. The problem of earning and keeping money can be resolved without resort to mental trickery and an interminable study of occult rules. The divine does not have to be entreated or manipulated in order for us to be at ease in our financial dealings. But it must also become clear that we can't separate ourselves from our money problems. Financial chaos activates the fearful part of us and thereby constricts genuine happiness.

The Chronic Pattern

As we discussed earlier, the world's two controlling attitudes about money are that it's wonderful and it's evil. Although these are contradictory, they are only different sides of the same misplaced emphasis, and very few people escape being infected by both views. The usual way we act them out is that we strive to get more and more, but feel guilty about what we have obtained and unconsciously attempt to rid ourselves of it. Until a fundamental shift in emphasis occurs, this pattern usually remains unchanged, regardless of the amount of money that comes our way.

With the people you know well, perhaps you have noticed that certain individuals tend always to be on time, or always late. And you can often predict their arrival within a few minutes. For example, those friends who usually come 20 minutes late will remain fairly consistent, even though their excuses each time may vary widely. The circumstances they cite are manifestly not the governing factor. The value they place on time determines how they use it, and their pattern will not change until the value itself changes. For example, as they start to recognize that time can be a means of kindness, their arrival time becomes more caring. This is equally true of spending habits. A young couple starting out will quickly form a pattern of retaining a certain percentage of what comes in, or of being a certain percentage in debt. This ratio will not vary by much, even though their earnings may increase substantially over the years. If suddenly they receive a financial windfall, their financial system will begin digesting it. As soon as this is completed and a windfall can be finished off in a remarkably short period, they go back to the same pattern of indebtedness, or percentage of surplus, that existed before. Although the form it takes can change at any time, the desire for externals remains the same until desire itself is questioned. This is true whether the wanting is for ever more money or for ridding oneself of money. Almost always it is for both, and the degree to which these two wishes cancel each other out determines whether the individual is always a little short, a little ahead, has needless surfeit, or just breaks even, none of which is either good or bad. The problem is not in the outcome that these conflicting attitudes produce, but in the valuing of money, either positively or negatively, for its own sake. Take anything out of context and trouble begins. If we have a recurring money problem, we can be sure we have singled money out in some way. Just seeing that much can be of help because we are not so quick to blame a certain person or special set of circumstances for why the problem has occurred this time.

Ending Financial Soap Operas

When starting a self-improvement process, many people make the mistake of siding with the angry voice within them in an attempt to bring about behavioral changes. Most of us still believe we can denounce ourselves into being more responsible. But self-loathing, even mild self-loathing, does not truly motivate, and it usually backfires. It can have a temporary effect at best, because it comes from the side of our nature that values conflict and attack. From conflict arises pain, and pain can take us only so far. Lasting change must be grounded in happiness. A new course must reward and continue to satisfy, or it will be turned away from.

The following series of suggestions is designed to increase awareness, always the first step in healing, and to arrive at a plan that stops the destructive behavior. This procedure is not intended to plumb deep psychological causes but to open the mind to practical possibilities. First, you want to increase your awareness of your attitude toward money in general. As you go through the day, begin looking at exactly what is happening around you and within you whenever you are the least bit excited or fearful about finances. Look more closely. Be more present. As you make a purchase, pay a bill, watch a financial report on TV, balance your checkbook, drive past a bank. Examples? No matter what mail I have received, I always open the bills first. The service seems worse and I leave a skimpy tip when I'm worried about anything, whether money-related or not. I feel dislike and resentment toward older white people who drive new upper-end cars.

After you have done this for a few days, close your eyes and think in a general way about these experiences, as well as any past experiences concerning money that come to mind. Simply allow various scenes to cross your awareness, whether of recent observations or of old events. As you do this, be conscious of your anxiety level and pay special attention to the images that are the most broadly disturbing. You are not looking for just one or two embarrassing or difficult moments, but for a pattern, a recurring unhappiness in your life. For example, needing to offer things of monetary value in an attempt to cement relationships; being periodically short and having to forage about for money; always scrimping in an insensitive, unkind way; a history of spending sprees, especially when you are unhappy; recurring feelings of superiority or inferiority based on money.

Taking up one of the patterns you notice, perhaps the one that is the most pervasive and time-consuming, ask yourself in what context it occurs. In other words, what are the kinds of thoughts and feelings and what are the circumstances that precede and surround an outbreak of this pattern? For instance, "When I am physically tired and discouraged, after I've fantasized about how a truly advanced person would live, while I'm shopping for clothes in a mall, when I'm in public and think I am being judged." Your goal here is not to engage in deep analysis, but merely to look for obvious triggers of this one pattern. You may notice that you usually go on a spending spree just after a bad argument with your partner, or you notice that you overreact to getting a lot of money at once, for instance, at payday. As you think about each instance of the pattern, pay attention to anything you can remember feeling just prior to or during the times you have acted out this problem. And remember to do all of this without self-censure. You are just looking. You are only gathering information.

Using whatever relaxation technique or mental trick you wish, quiet your body and mind and rest for a few seconds. Now, ask yourself if there are some simple ways to bypass the circumstances that trigger the problem. You're not necessarily interested in discovering how to change the circumstances themselves, so much as in seeing how to avoid them. For example, if you frequently overspend when you have to walk through the mall, but tend not to overspend when you drive to an isolated store, one way to avoid the trigger is obvious: Shop at stores that are not in malls. This is not a rule you want to make for yourself. It's just a thought about a possibility. Describe to yourself a few other ways that you could avoid or nullify the circumstances that appear to generate your problem. In trying to think of these, it may help open your mind to start with ridiculous and fanciful options, then try to add a few that are more reasonable. "I could pretend to be blind, use a white cane, and have people direct me to the store. Only upon entering the store could I open my eyes." "As I walk toward the store I want, I could pretend that if I stare at any display window of any shop for more than three seconds, I will instantly turn to stone." "As I walk, I could study the floor surfaces of the mall, materials used, scuff marks, colors, surface coatings, and so forth." "I could buy everything online." "I could make a few phone calls and compose a list of all the places that are likely to have what I want that are not in malls." "I could use a combination of two or three of these options."

Sitting quietly, taking all the time you need, ask yourself, "What do I now want to do about this problem?" Remember to allow yourself any option, then decide on one simple step. Not an infallible step, not a step you hope will solve everything forever, but merely one you think has a chance of bringing improvement. Let's say your recurring problem is that you run short of money, and let's say your income is seasonal rather than monthly. A beginning step might be to open a second bank account into which you place all income and out of which you pay yourself a fixed monthly salary. Let it be a plan that you're confident is within your present readiness to carry out. Write out this plan, maybe as a contract with yourself. Sign it, then try it. Keep trying new measures until you are past the behavior. Perhaps write down the dates and steps you take and the results you get with each measure. Finally, record the date when you believe the problem is behind you. Be absolutely certain of this, but do wait until you have a sense of honesty about making this last entry.

Money is a Problem in Perception

The ultimate solution to most financial difficulties is to view them with enough honesty that our mind can focus calmly and see what to do. Fear is constricted awareness; honesty is the willingness to broaden awareness. Naturally, there are situations that would terrify anyone, and the specter of being financially destitute is one of them. But short of life-threatening and identity-threatening money problems, most of the financially disturbed areas of our life can be brought to peace. Once fear is eliminated or sufficiently lessened, there are few problems that can't be solved. That is quite different from saying, "There isn't anything you can't get to go the way your ego wants it to go." By "solved," I mean "made happy." Options are always present to make any area of our life happier, and they are seen as we practice being honest with ourselves.

Chapter 14 Possessions

Inner Simplicity

What's the point of money if there are no signs of it in your life? "If you've got it, flaunt it," so reasons the world. No good for money to lie there like some overfed cat. To get our money's worth from money, there has to be hard visual evidence that it's a power we personally wield. Perhaps a portfolio page on our PC with internet-driven spreadsheets, flow charts, and market streaming, or at least a consoling bank balance printed in a little gilded book. Something, anything we can look at in private moments that makes us feel warm and fuzzy, like pictures of gardens and grandchildren. But if not that, then surely an occasional highly conversable vacation, including marvelous food, or the latest PGA, SUV, webcam, or data watch. Good seats and good service. Respect for one's business opinion. Even an ornate spouse will do. Otherwise, we feel cheated.

Money seems to call out to us to be translated into something. We think it's a tragedy for money to just remain money. Or if money has become important to us as a symbol of what to avoid, this attitude must also have its display: perhaps bare bones and rigidly second-hand furnishings, the kind of clothes that indicate one is not interested in clothes. Only backyard-grown or bulk-bought foods. Clearly no hairspray. Or a meticulous avoidance of designer-name boutiques and little French restaurants. From this point of view, money should be translated into a sacrifice of options. Here again, it's unacceptable for money to be just money.

The desire for more and more, or its corollary, the desire to be deprived, has at its root a belief that what you see is what you get. Yet, form is not everything. Form is valuable only to the degree that it serves the interests of content. Content is everything, and inner simplicity is the permanent sigh of relief that this has been recognized. The people who have reached an advanced stage of happiness invariably lead simple lives. Their household environment and personal affairs are free of chaos and clutter. They eat simply, dress peacefully, and follow a harmonious routine. If compassion requires that they break with any of this, they can do so easily and quickly. Because for the truly happy person, simplicity is not just another fetish; it is an enduring internal state.

Whenever we are afraid, we are to some degree tense and intractable. That is why a scattered approach to life is rigid, whereas a simple one is not. Yet, this is not recognized by many people. They think that accumulating is satisfying, that buying an endless list of things they don't want and can't use spells real freedom, or they make the equal mistake of drawing back in fear from all signs of wealth.

Another word for simplicity is clarity. Deep inner clarity about one's purpose and way. Now there is space to see. Simplicity is freedom from mental and emotional litter. The heart has room to love and enjoy. Simplicity is also guileless and straightforward. It is the uncomplicated way, the easy step, and this soft internal order is expressed outwardly in an instinctive avoidance of excess, or its counterpart, deprivation and self-imposed loss. However, because simplicity is a core condition, there can be no formula for how it takes form within one's lifestyle. Simplicity of heart has a calming effect on one's environment, but the particulars will vary with each individual. There are no rules for determining how many changes of clothes must hang in the closet.

Whether one should own a yogurt maker, or if mounting Uncle Toby's stuffed moose head in the den is immoral. Yet it's there to be seen by anyone who cares to look that all possessions are subject to loss and deterioration. Hair and toothbrush bristles develop split ends. Cars fall apart. Guppies die. Running shoes wear out, and the neighbors you acquire along with your new house pressure you either to keep your grass edged or to tear out the lawn altogether and put in crushed red lava stone.

Even though it would seem too obvious to miss, these flapping, distracting streamers tied to every new possession are almost never considered as we go about the supposedly happy work of accumulating ever more. And still we wonder, why can't we go through a single day in peace?

From time to time, purchases must be made. That's obvious. But this does not negate the fact that consequences attend. We can't even bring home a few cut flowers without ramifications. In what will they be placed? Must some chemical be added to the water? In whose room will they go? Should the cat be allowed to nibble? Which family member's role is it to remove the wilted ones?

However, it never seems to be this intrinsic nature of possessions that gets our attention. Only the latest symptom of it is noticed. So when the refrigerator suddenly starts making a strange noise, we think that all it takes for life again to be worth living is to get someone out to fix it. And, of course, it should be taken care of.

Yet, what do we do? At the recommendation of the repairman, who demonstrated his reliability by keeping the appointment only after the fourth call and a few threats, we purchased a new refrigerator, the three-door Maxi Deluxe 500X with choose-a-shape ice maker and chilled water busboy. Far more can now go wrong than could before. But it stands so shiny and handsome in the corner of our kitchen, that we don't think of this until several weeks later when the busboy refuses to drop crushed ice in our Dixie cup, and the repairman we called before now tells us he isn't certified to work on the 500X.

Is our home our haven? We are often so tyrannized by our home that we can't be comfortable within it. We walk into a room and see only a collection of mistakes, or we have a nagging little question about the chairs. The decor is atrophying and we are not sure what to do. Our mind is filled with equal parts fear and decorating hints. In a very real sense, we do not have a home because we are uncertain what this place we live in is for: a showcase of our talent and creativity, an example of our energy consciousness, a display case for our wealth, or merely a place to sleep. We truly want to feel welcomed by our own home. We want it to be a place of relaxation and rest. We want to be able to come home. But as long as we view it through the eyes of anxiety or condemnation, we will not be able to.

One of many unhappy solutions to this dynamic is to begin neglecting the things we do own because we suddenly decide, "I no longer care about worldly things. I'm beyond all of that." It's true that in this way, less of our day is devoted to maintenance and repair. But the underlying distress we feel when we withhold our love from our very surroundings delays us more than remaining aware of what is occurring within our habitat and caring for the things that need care.

An equally unhappy solution is to begin fearing, or worse, hating possessions and refusing to acquire what would be a comfort and help to ourselves and those around us. Once again, there is no list of what these things might be because this will vary with each family or individual. For a long time I resisted buying a computer. Once I acquired one, I began turning out my columns and manuscripts in about half the time it took before. I owe this to Gayle, who got me to look closely at my reasons for not wanting one. There was a self-image, that of the log cabin and candlelight kind of guy, that I did not want shattered. When I saw this honestly, I recognized how silly it was and bought the equipment that would help me do my job.

Yet a sense of home is neither a new computer nor a gadget-free environment. Home is an openness of heart that easily discerns what will add to the ease around us or what will merely complicate our way. A genuine feel for home or embracing simplicity is fairly easy to develop, provided we take it in small steps. This being a chapter on possessions, let's begin with these. Any other area of your life, your relationships, diet, finances, health, could just as easily become the starting point.

What have we put around us? While it's true that we are affected by our possessions on an unconscious level, it is not true that we must remain forever unaware of what these influences are and where they come from. Because we tolerate them, they come from us. The dreams we have at night are a good example of one way we set up an environment for ourselves, then choose to forget our part in forming it. In our dreams, the surrounding events and atmospheres appear to be happening to us. This is harmless in the case of dreams, except perhaps in certain extreme forms, but certainly it is not without effects within our daily life.

It is possible to have positive associations with what some people would consider messy surroundings. Clutter to one is austerity to another. What is important to our happiness is not these comparisons but our personal sense of an environment that is in harmony with our mind. When we are learning happiness, our mind is in a vulnerable state. We are more affected by the things around us and how closely they match our sense of order and cleanliness than we may realize at first. So until we learn to see, it's perhaps best to look at fewer things. Few people suffer from progressive austerity. The common ailment is overaccumulation.

It is therefore important to consider the number of things around you and also the comfortableness of the memories you have about each item. Both are equally affecting. If you have an overall sense of excess, or the perception that there are spots where things are too crowded, and if you believe these conditions exist in part because you have been negligent, it's unlikely that you won't occasionally feel oppressed by the glut and mentally muddled by the clutter.

Our possessions also have an impact individually. We are reminded, often on an unconscious level, of a theme in our life every time our eyes glance at an object. I don't want to be melodramatic about this. No one ever need be afraid of anything. Fear is not a divine law. It is possible to possess at times a serenity that remains untouched by the influences I am speaking of. Still, our household environment, if it's not simple and free of obvious concerns, can be like a mild allergen that affects us whenever our immunity has been low. Therefore, this aspect of our life should be adjusted to interfere as little as possible with our mental comfort.

In that regard, here are a few guidelines that many people find helpful. Spring cleaning the mind. When embarking on a broad external change, it is a good overall rule to begin with the smallest and easiest steps. Sit quietly in your least important room. If you have only one or two rooms, perhaps begin inside your car, in front of your refrigerator, or at your locker or desk in the building where you work. Slowly look around. Look at what is behind you, under you, above you. Try hard to take in each thing you see without adding a single judgment or criticism to it. Look at this room as if you were a stranger to it and see it, really see it for the first time.

Relaxed, and with your eyes now closed, take in the atmosphere around you. How does this room feel to you? Do certain areas feel congested? Does some part need cleaning? Is there an unhappiness or sadness around a particular object? Is something being neglected? Are there places that seem comfortable or bright with welcome? Repeat these steps within a second room. Pay particular attention to any desire you have to alter the room: to clean it, throw something out, make repairs, add things to it. When you notice an urge of this sort, try describing it in detail. "My impulse is to pull up this dirty old carpet and burn it."

This little exercise is not meant to make you paranoid about the rooms you are in or harden your judgments against certain objects, nor is it meant to catapult you into a flurry of changes. It's difficult to learn that our observations do not require automatic action. We are accustomed to converting every insight into behavior, whereas no change need be made until we are clear within ourselves that the change will add to our mental stability. Until we are certain, possibly it is best to wait calmly. Every ambiguous action causes a disturbed aftermath. Likewise, to withdraw or become slovenly is not a solution because inaction, if motivated by fear, also has its disrupting consequences.

Close your eyes and imagine undertaking just one of the alterations that seems feasible. Project into the future what things will be like as you make the change and after you complete the change. As best you can, see every one and every thing this will affect. Don't worry whether your fantasy is accurate, for of course it is not. Your aim is not prediction. Rather, it is to undergo a mental process that allows you to see how peaceful you are now about making this change. With your eyes closed, fantasize not making the change. Imagine the ramifications that might flow from not acting. Now quietly ask yourself, what is your peaceful preference? What is it you want to do as of now?

If you would like another visual way of learning whether you prefer making this particular change to the room, here are two more possibilities. Think of peace as light, and, with eyes closed, observe which alternative seems brighter to you. Or picture yourself standing between the two alternatives, and watch your body lean in the direction of your more peaceful inclination. Say to yourself, "If my purpose is to be happy, which way do I lean?" Or you can physically stand up and do this.

You may have noticed that this exercise did not concern itself with the question of whether the contemplated change to the room was right. Issues of right and wrong can almost never be resolved without residual conflict because the grounds on which they are made shift constantly. Is it financially right? Conveniently right? Aesthetically right? Conventionally right? Is it right according to a particular book? But which passage in the book? Is it right for your spouse, but not for you? Is it safe? Is it proper? And on and on. There is clearly no clarity in right, but it is quite simple to recognize our peaceful preference.

Repeat these steps in the remaining rooms of your house, place of work, or any other areas that contain your personal items. Perhaps make only one change in each area at this time. If, in order to have a clear idea of what you are feeling in each of these locations, you need to break the area into smaller units: closets, drawers, the freezer, the glove compartment, then take the time to do this. A project such as the one suggested in this exercise, if done adequately, could take a long time, and there is nothing lost in giving yourself that time. Do only as much each day as you feel comfortable doing, and do not get caught up in the excitement of some potential change. In itself, the change of throwing things out is no more conducive to our mental well-being than the change of acquiring still more.

Once you have mentally wrapped yourself around your array of possessions, clothes, food stock, tools, pictures, books, toilet items, accumulated mail, and know what emotions you have about them, not only individually, but also how you feel about the quantity of things you own and how they are arranged and cared for, you are now ready to begin imposing on them your sense of simplicity. As mentioned before, it's good to begin with the least important area and gradually work up to those rooms or places that seem more complex and evoke greater anxiety. Another helpful procedure might be to work on one area until you feel it is complete before going to the next.

Sit quietly in the place where you have decided to begin. Look at it honestly. Drink in the atmosphere around you. Be aware of areas or items that disturb you. Then consider the first possession, which, if possible, should be one you do not care a great deal about. Look calmly at this item and ask yourself the following questions: Do I still use this as a decoration, a tool, a symbol of certain memories? Am I still taking care of this: dusting it, servicing it, polishing it? If I am neither caring for it nor using it, in what specific ways do I fear letting it go? "I may use it someday." "I might offend the one who gave it to me." "It's costly and I don't see how I will ever recoup its value."

If, after answering these, you're still unsure about whether to keep this particular possession, close your eyes and project into the future both keeping it and not keeping it. What would life be like without this tomorrow, the next day, the next week, and so on? Then, what would life be like with this still here tomorrow, the next day? Now ask yourself, which course of action will add most to my present peace? One scenario will seem more peaceful than the other. The answer you get will not guarantee that in days to come your ego will be happy about the decision you make today. Yet isn't it clear by now that it's our fear of the future that has caused us to hang on to so many things we truly don't want? To become consistently happy, we must learn to trust our present sense of peace more than the dictates of our anxieties. Buying sprees, overaccumulation, clutter, chronic disorganization, and such are the result of consistently making decisions on the grounds of fear. For example, you might throw out something that later you wished you hadn't, but a peaceful approach will allow you to be happier now, and now never goes away.

Although it takes a sustained effort to form the habit of listening for and choosing our peaceful inclinations in all matters, this strength of mind is indeed within reach. The prerequisite is the recognition that it is desirable. Exercises such as this, in which the benefits of an imposed harmony can plainly be seen, give weight to an alternative to chaos. It is not enough to see that our ongoing mental patterns are hurting us. An experience is needed to spark our belief in the existence of another way. That is why something so seemingly minor as bringing a degree of peace and order to our physical surroundings can become a rallying point for further extensions into more complex areas such as relationships. If it can be seen that love is a possibility anywhere, even in reorganizing a room in a gentle and self-caring way, then the journey to the deeper realms of love has begun.

Chapter 14 Body

Seeing the body honestly. There is a limit to what the body can give us. Yet what we demand of it appears to have no bounds. We look to our body and to our relationships with other bodies for our sense of happiness, perhaps more than we look to anything else on earth and in heaven. When the performance of our body fails to meet our need to be somebody, as inevitably it must, often our last resort is to have children, or lots of friends, or employees, or supporters, or bodies in some other role that we expect to materialize our dreams.

Most relationships, even those with our partner or child, cannot withstand this pressure and fall away beneath the weight of what we expect from them. The leading cause of relationship failure is pressure. And pressure, whether on our own body to perform or on other bodies to deliver, comes from the belief that we can get something we don't have from a body. Yet, whether our focus is on our own body or on bodies in the form of relationships, we misplace our trust. Although we don't realize it at the time, this makes a loss of happiness inevitable.

As many have pointed out, the world's present preoccupation with the body approaches hysteria. To borrow from Milton, it has reached a state of "demonic frenzy, moping melancholy and moon-struck madness." Thin bodies, young bodies, ripped bodies, bodies with lots of hair in the right places, bodies with super energy, bodies with glorious tans, bodies that look presidential, bodies that never show their age, bodies that can run impressive distances. This blur of images held up in the claim before the public eye has created an almost complete sense of unreality about a very ordinary, and not so endurable piece of machinery. Something everyone owns and almost no one can see. Very simply, we have made ourselves too afraid to look. By cultivating impossible physical ideals, we are left paralyzed in dismay at our own hopelessly inadequate anatomy, or, perhaps even worse, have sent ourselves racing blindly after some fleeting physical prize that multiplies and scatters as we approach it. Understandably, we do not want to look at how our own body matches up, and so we don't look at all.

We truly don't need to be engrossed in all this madness, for it is irrelevant to happiness or being deeply loved or anything else of enduring value. It is irrelevant even to feeling good. All we need is to recognize that our body can become our friend. But in order for it to assume this role, we must first see it as it is. But what horrors might we face if we took an honest look? That our mouth size makes our smile insincere? That our inherited metabolism shortens our lifespan? That our voice is too high for us to be promoted? That the sport we have mastered is not cardiovascularly balanced? Or possibly that our body has suddenly gone out of style? For don't we observe that refined facial features are admired only to give way a few years later to faces with more character? One moment the hair has to be wavy and of uniform color. Next it must look naturally blonde and straight. Then, overnight it should seem genetically unruly and have sunshine highlights. At present, we must lose not five, but 25 pounds. And even if we manage that, the bone structure of our legs and pelvis is all wrong, and we don't look thin enough from a distance, even though up close we are patently anemic.

Perhaps more anxiety-provoking still is the current emphasis on superhealth, which, when added to the evidence we see daily that it's hard enough just staying alive, results, not too surprisingly, in our thinking of our body as a walking time bomb, or at least as a time-consuming reclamation project stretching drearily into the future. Obviously, the body is currently an unhappy subject. Not only must we keep pace with the world's ever-shifting ideal of attractiveness, desirable personality mannerisms, and meaningful physical attainments, but also the stream of new and vital facts about the ways our body can torture and attack us has become a torrent that has thrown every breath, bite, and atmospheric vibration into question. We are told that our race subjects us to high blood pressure or skin cancer, our sex to breast or prostate tumors, our age to whooping cough or stroke, our evenings out to car accidents, our job to lung disease, our exercise to back pain, and our play to bad knees. And we are informed that the most reliable remedies for these problems are themselves risky.

At a glance, it certainly might seem best just to leave our two-legged tangle of disappointments and dangers completely out of mind. Unfortunately, we can't separate ourselves from our own perception of our body. Our attempts to do so merely keep the dynamics of our discomfort in the shadows, so that any real improvement remains out of the question.

The Changeable Body. The body can't be perfected, but it can be changed. Its changeableness is its fundamental characteristic and the dominant role it plays in our lives. So, if you are overweight and out of shape, your body is changeable. And if you are in the bloom of youthful loveliness, your body is changeable. It will not remain the same whether you are lethargic, droopy and prepubescent, or have great upper body strength for your age and are presently graying distinguishingly at the temples. You may play a part in its future course or not. But nothing you do or neglect to do will anchor your body in permanence.

If the body lacks value, this attribute is one obvious reason. Yet, it is also the body's changeableness that allows for hope, no matter how much of a plague upon our mind some bodily condition has become. Changeableness is not desirable, nor need it be resisted, but it will most certainly be feared until the ancient human habit of longing sadly for what once was or of trying to fend off an imagined future is finally broken. People go through old photos and think that is how their body should still be. But does anyone really want to be 90 and look 18? The only person whose body never changes? A phenomenon unique in the world to be feared and stared at? Of course, the answer is no. Yet we persist in believing that because a particular stage was more attractive, more commanding of respect, more employable and the like, it was therefore good and right, which makes our present state wrong. Good and right to have the advantage? How very unhappy is this attitude? The period in which the body can have all possible benefits is quite short indeed, and to try to freeze it in time is disastrous to mental well-being. Perhaps the old photos show us obese or seriously ill. Then it will not be the past we regret losing, but the future we dread. But to even consider our body at all makes us unhappy, because of this fear it brings up that something might return. But the body's future is not made more secure by our dwelling on its previous stages. It is cared for best when we know it well as it now is and remain sensitive to its present needs. The body we have at this moment is the only body we have. It was not, nor will it be again, what it is now. Our present body is the one we must finally come to terms with if we are ever to make this part of our world comfortable. We simply don't have the body of five years ago. But undoubtedly we are still reacting to those old images as if they were flesh and blood. This is hurting our health, our energy, our appearance, our moods, and a hundred other bodily aspects that have a history of influencing our happiness.

Seeing Through the Eyes of a Friend. I want you to try a rather silly exercise. I want you to take off your clothes and stand in front of a mirror. And I want you to look at your body just as it is. Don't judge it. Don't recall how it once was. Or tell yourself that there will soon be more of that. See your body as one who truly loves you might see it, with kind and gentle eyes. See it in the present.

After having a good long look, close your eyes and begin taking inventory of your state of comfort. As you stand there, how does the body feel? Are there any places where the body hurts? Is there something that is not easy to live with? Are there recurring problems with certain parts? You are not looking for areas of pride or shame because right now, you are simply sensing the details of its present state. You wish to acknowledge the overall well-being and comfort of your body and identify the particular areas of trouble that keep cropping up. Take note of anything that keeps getting your attention: the thighs, something about the digestion, an overall sense of deterioration and neglect, the back. There are, of course, other preoccupations that are always shifting: it's the hair one day, the eyes the next, the stomach, the posture, the wrinkles, and so on. But if you take a calm overview, you should have little trouble recognizing the areas that represent a sustained disturbance to your happiness.

Regard your body peacefully and sanely. Do not let your mind fall into its old, nagging preoccupations: "Are the pouches on my hips too unsightly?" "Is my bone structure good?" "Should my eyes be some other color or further apart?" "Am I too thin in places?" If you begin this kind of critiquing, which a good friend would not do, you soon will be unable to form the dispassionate picture you need as a starting point.

Now, sit or stand quietly for a moment and let this gentle and truthful picture of your body sink in. Remind yourself of the pointlessness of fighting the simple facts. This is merely your body. It is certainly not all there is to you, but for now this is what you have physically. You can live with it in peace. Actually, short of being in a state of chronic pain, you can live quite comfortably and happily with it if you will accept it as it is. Accepting your body doesn't mean that you refuse to take steps that would help you feel more at ease within it. Whether this entails an operation, enrolling in a diet center, scheduling a daily workout, or having your hair styled. If you do not judge your body and are not afraid to hear your own counsel without first gathering numerous other opinions, you will sense what could help. There is something in you that knows. Start by practicing acceptance and follow by practicing trust. Practice knowing, and you will know. Only comparisons and judgments block this thoroughly natural process. It's an indication of our culture's current disorientation that this point would even need emphasizing. What could be more natural than for one to have a gentle sense of how to care for one's own body?

After you have surveyed your body in a mirror and in your mind's eyes, take up one of the more chronic problems and look at it with your peaceful mind. Proceed in the usual way of opening yourself up to all options and choosing some first step to try. Plan out a small program for putting this particular distress behind you. Without unnecessary soul-searching and worry, simply begin implementing it. Prove to yourself that it's not necessary to remain mired in any form of unhappiness.

The Purpose of the Body. In most people's lives, the body functions as a background noise of varying unpleasantness: an anxiety, a burden, a source of regret. At first the body seems pure promise, a bright comet racing across the future. And, for a time, in its changeableness, it appears to move toward the fulfillment of many vague anticipations. But what we expected of it is as insatiable as it is ill-defined. The body has not the resources to meet an ever-growing list of conflicting demands. Increasingly, it appears to fail just when it is needed most. Thus, it settles into its more permanent role: a thing to mistrust, a source of fear.

Your body should have at least one good and natural purpose: to be a servant to your happiness. It can fulfill this function well if you look at it calmly enough to see that once stripped of its adornments, it is not a great and magical servant. It is humble and vulnerable and of limited talent. Overemphasis has distorted its wonders and its horrors, but has not succeeded in transmuting it into anything other than what it has always been. Our body can serve our happiness by not interfering with our mind, but the purely physical doesn't have the capacity to make us happy. Individuals who think it will make them happy to get all fixed up, become extraordinary looking, and go to a party for the purpose of being seen are still confusing mental potential with physical potential. The reserves of peace we carry into an event will determine how enjoyably we spend our time, and not our muscle mass, the brand of our clothes, the height of our heels, the eminence of our name, or the pitch of our laugh. No matter how cute, severe, or natural-looking a body may be, it simply can't manufacture the inner state of happiness.

Yet most of the world operates from the opposite premise. The somewhat shocking truth is that to present ourselves to the world in ordinary terms rather than daring to be different creates far fewer distractions. Dare to be ordinary and you will concentrate better. There is precious little courage involved in striving to be special, since this universal need is what makes the world go round, or more accurately, chase its tail. It obviously is not a need at all, but a tired old love affair that has never found home. It should be no mystery why getting a lot of attention for our good looks doesn't satisfy us. As hard as it is for my sons to believe, I actually had a short period of good looks in my early 30s. The attention is directed at the body, not the self, and we feel somehow outside all the words and looks that swirl around us. Even though it can be very exciting, we can feel somewhat abandoned and forgotten, whether or not we have experienced the feeling of isolation that often accompanies good looks. It should at least be recognized that part of us remains the same, whatever is occurring to the body. As the joke goes, "Inside every old man is a young man wondering what happened." Because their consciousness is the same, it's very hard for many elderly people to get used to the way others react to their old body.

Several years ago, I started working on letting go of various prejudices I had about certain body types and quickly realized that it was difficult for me to look at anyone without feeling some degree of judgment. I decided to try and experiment. I explained what I had in mind to Gail and asked if she would like to accompany me to Baskin-Robbins in our pick-up, sufficiently battered and run down to be inconspicuous. We parked close to the entrance and, after getting our cones, sat in the truck and just watched people go in and out. It was summertime, business was good, and every conceivable body type was there: young and old, fat and skinny, buxom and bald, in varying skin shades and dressed in a surprising variety of attire. As each customer emerged, I said to myself, "Is that a good body or a bad body?" "No, it's just a body." What I expected was a degree of neutrality. The features of a body don't reveal what a person is at heart, and to see more clearly was all I hoped for.

What did occur was unexpected. I was flooded with love for these people. I began to see how innocent we all are in our little fleshly costumes, that there is no harm in any of this, that in fact there is a certain richness, abundance, almost a blessing to the assortment of physiques that sprinkle the earth. After a while, we backed out and started heading down Cirillo's Road toward home. In recent years, the city of Santa Fe has beautified Cirillo's. But in those days it was a place of cheap motels, little shops with no parking, and fast food franchises. You could always find grounds for agreement with a new acquaintance at a party by deploring this exception to Santa Fe's historic charm. You can imagine my surprise when, in the midst of our drive home, I realized I loved Cirillo's Road. I loved the red sale signs painted permanently on the store windows, the cars that were being forced to back gingerly out into traffic, the motels with masonry facades and frame sides. I even loved Long John and Colonel Chicken. Love, just like judgment, can't be confined. Whatever we turn our gaze upon is bathed in its gentle light. For love is the recognition that although the uses they are put to may be selfish, even cruel, the things of the world are guiltless, and our body is merely a thing. However we have used it in the past, it remains innocent and untainted. Once we put the body back into perspective and start looking at it honestly, our sensitivity to it increases, and our concern and care for it becomes more constant.

Finding Our Location. This old exercise is one of my favorites. It never fails to leave me feeling a little more sane. It is not proof of anything, just a means of having an experience. We use so many strange and silly things with our identity, our self, that any trick we use to sort ourselves out can be an aid to our happiness.

Sit comfortably, close your eyes, and begin slowly asking yourself, "Where am I?" Follow by asking yourself, "Am I in my hair?" "Am I in my eyes?" "Am I in my head?" "Am I in my brain?" "Am I in my shoulders?" In an easy and pleasant way, continue down the body with similar questions, pausing after each one for a gentle sense of the answer: "Am I in my torso?" "Am I in my heart?" "Am I in my hips?" And so forth, making the questions as general or detailed as you wish. When you have finished, you will probably have an increased awareness of that part of you that is always you, regardless of age, haircuts, amputations, prostheses, brain damage, or any other bodily changes. This awareness may be quite strong.

How do mind and body relate? In order to be happy, what role should our mind take toward our body? It certainly shouldn't be afraid of it, which is its attitude on most occasions. If you found that you were able to do the preceding exercise enjoyably, in the course of it, your mind assumed its natural role of leadership. When the body is pushed forward to receive the benefits of life, if it is our body and not our mind that must be in position to gain from our goals, we set ourselves up for inevitable loss because of the changeableness of the body. If we want our enjoyment of life to be steady and reliable, we should not choose a place of reward that is inconstant.

The body is innocent. It cannot help its nature. Change is simply its governing law. Whatever the body may not be, if experienced in the present, it is indeed a good servant. Good servants don't have to be anxiously watched over and second-guessed, for that hurts their confidence and disturbs their performance. Certainly, instructions are needed and boundaries must be set. And out of simple consideration, care should be taken that their tasks do not exceed their capabilities, and that they are generally pleased with the hours and working conditions. Similarly, the mind's function is to set guidelines for the body, then permit the body to do its job in peace.

It's good to seek the body's overall comfort in direct ways, as well as to the mind's, because boundaries are in fact a symbol of caring. This is why such measures as working out an excellent diet and finding safe and pleasant ways to exercise usually have a lifting effect on one's attitude and outlook. What hours do you keep? What kind of bed do you sleep on? Should you now wear gloves to do the dishes? Is there a better shoe? The reason we are reluctant to take the time or spend the money for improvements that would obviously make our body feel better is that we have the odd belief that because we are not consistent, we don't deserve good treatment. Yet, most of us find it more difficult to be kind when our body is disturbing us. And without kindness, there is no happiness. You will think more gently of yourself as well as be a better friend to your partner, children, and everyone else if you act as if you are worthy of your own love.

Superiority is not self-caring. Unlike self-caring, superiority, conceit, arrogance, and self-importance must be protected at all costs. Kindness toward ourselves can give way to kindness toward another, if need be. Most parents would sacrifice their lives for their child. But if I believe I am superior, I equate self-sacrifice with self-destruction. Kind, generous people are weak and stupid in my eyes. And if I think I am more important than others, I will consciously or unconsciously work to make others less important than me. They must be marginalized, discounted, put down, defeated, or destroyed. The most destructive individuals I have run across in my life invariably thought they were superior. The mindset that leads us into feelings of superiority is our desire to rank, and it begins with the body. Does it look right? Does it smell right? Is it thanked adequately? Does it get the best seat? Ranking our body reverses the natural roles of the body and mind, and the mind ceases to function as a calm overseer.

Have you noticed how some drivers speed up just a little when you start to pass them on the highway? Several years back, the four of us took a vacation in a rented 20-foot RV that could do everything except accelerate. This slight increase in speed on the part of the car you're trying to pass becomes very noticeable when you're the size of a small house and in the wrong lane. Why do people suddenly go faster than they want to? Why do they break line at ticket counters? Need more service than others at restaurants? And, Gail tells me, rush into the beauty parlor unannounced for a quick comb out, while you are left sitting there with perm solution collecting precariously on your eyebrows. It's because of the undue self-importance they assign to their body, which is where self-importance must be assigned since the mind doesn't exist on the level of these petty competitions. The purpose of the body is to not give the mind reason to be distracted. And the purpose of the mind is to not constantly worry whether the body is receiving everything that is its due. The usual alliance of fear gives way to harmony when the mind leads in certainty and the body follows in peace. For this to happen, the body must be treated and thought of gently.

Chapter 15 Health

A Happy Balance. Extremes in food, clothing, exercise, facial appearance, health, or safety can sometimes disturb the basic friendliness and compatibility of the body and turn it into an annoyance. But a middle road can be walked whereby the body is comfortable in most respects and thus is not a preoccupation. The body is best clothed comfortably, but not distractingly. It is best fed so that its well-being is enhanced and protected, yet not so restricted that it is imbued with sacrifice and deprivation, which are themselves indisposing. It is unhappy to over-adorn the body, yet to neglect its appearance so that it becomes unpleasant to look at is equally unhappy. Letting the body go brings no true relief to the mind, nor is it satisfying to try to push it to enviable levels of health and energy. Furthermore, the body's safety should not be neglected in the name of a spiritual path or to demonstrate trust in God. On the other hand, to become fanatical about voiding all conceivable mishaps is simply a miserable way to live.

To guide our body in a balanced, reasonable way is difficult in the present climate in which people are taking extreme stands on every possible bodily issue. When Sri Krishna Kashyap first came to this country to practice Ayurveda, a woman came to him with a mild stomach disorder, and he suggested that she drink a little dill seed tea each day. When she came back two weeks later, he asked how she was doing. "I'm afraid there hasn't been much improvement. My stomach isn't feeling so good." He was surprised to hear this. "Have you been taking the dill seed tea every day?" "Oh, yes," she replied. "Well then, tell me what else your diet consists of." "Oh, nothing else," she assured him. "I've been drinking only the dill seed tea."

With this as the general approach to life surrounding you, you want to stay alert to any tendency you feel to go to extremes. Gently decline to be influenced and return instead to your own natural intelligence. It is possible, for example, to discover for yourself what combination of foods makes your body happy, gives it stamina, and allows it to sleep well, and also what saps its energy, lowers its resistance, or stirs it up in some disagreeable way. If you will go about this sensibly and not rush the process, you can come to have a confident sense of what to eat and how to eat it. So, too, is it possible to develop a pleasant and sure instinct of what to wear, when to use makeup and other aids to appearance, how and when to exercise, what to do when ill, and which allowances to make for your age.

We must not underestimate our resistance to this. The normal tendency is to fluctuate between extremes: rigidly punishing the body on one hand and giving up on it on the other. The happiest body is the one that does not stand out in either a negative or a positive way. It is a body that is comfortable with itself, as well as comfortable to look at. Even a very elderly body can be gentle on the mind and on the eye if the mind that inhabits that body is at ease with the body's age and physical state. As we develop a loving sensitivity to our highly individual constitution, we become accepting of its changes, even of its illnesses and injuries, and also of the diminishing capacities that accompany advancing years. It is possible to be sick in peace, have one's period in peace, experience menopause in peace, grow bald in peace, become less sexually arousable in peace, and be quite old and withered in peace. The time will arrive when you will look in the mirror and know that the call to be the centerfold will never come, and that very afternoon you may be warmly praised by some member of the younger generation for making it up the post office steps. None of this has to cause anguish, but for it not to, we first need to be at home with our body, so that its changes in appearance and physical capacity are not feared or denied.

The Body as Pet. There is now a trend, some of it within the body-mind-spirit movement, to identify less with the body. Unfortunately, this often has the reverse effect of what we desire. Instead of increasing communication with our deeper self, and bringing into sharper focus the part of us that is not always changing, it tends to confuse our sense of identity and sets up little wars within our mind. Even from a metaphysical standpoint, until individuals awaken or ascend, the body is part of their mind. Thus, it's unlikely that the mind can remain peaceful while denying what the body needs. The key to a happy, healthy body is to treat it like a beloved pet. If we project our moods onto our pets, as we so often do with our body, we respond to them inappropriately.