Robert Augustus Masters Q&A Part Nine
March 25, 2006
A. Jana/Plasmafly asks:
1. I don't particularly have enemies, but I do have human situations in which there is a lack of communication and understanding, actually most human situations. I would love to be able to communicate myself fully, truthfully and genuinely in every situation and encounter. Perhaps I believe I have to constantly pretend in order to survive. I know that an authentic life is possible, somewhere over the rainbow.
"This asks that we stretch and expand and open, permitting ourselves vulnerability, a vulnerability that is a source of strength, especially the kind of strength that is utterly unthreatened by dependency."
Ok, well this really pushes some buttons. I suppose the ultimate act of love is acknowledging and living up to that dependency consciously, rather than rebelling from it, denying it or using it unconsciously to manipulate. This would be the growing edge for me, since I have fundamental trust issues and abhor dependency like it's an ax in the head. Thus for me dependency has a hard time maturing because I refuse to face it. Any ideas on how to accept dependency?
Robert answers:
First of all, accepting dependency does not necessarily mean submitting to dependency.
An aversion to dependency can easily result in an overattachment to independence. The more problematic our orientation to dependency is, the more likely it is that we’ll deify independence and the egoic knot at its center, including in spiritual contexts.
Accepting dependency is not an act of submission, but of surrender. Submission is passive, but surrender is dynamic. In submission, we collapse our boundaries, but in surrender, we expand them. Through such expansion, more than enough room for dependence is made, permitted, allowed.
When we see, really see, our dependence (whether on oxygen or love or washboard abs), we are brought face to face with our vulnerability. With so much that could go wrong, doesn’t it seem like a miracle that enough of it works to keep us here for a while? Contemporary sensibilities aren’t particularly fond of needing anything, and so not only assume a problematic position regarding dependency, but also don’t assume much of a positive view of interdependence (since within its omnipresent relational web, dependence is an unavoidable and often obvious reality).
None of the above is to say that dependency is always a good thing. It’s worth asking: Which dependency? Should we accept all dependencies? Of course not. If a particular dependency does not serve your well-being, don’t accept it. If it still attracts you, you’ve got some work to do. It doesn’t take much for dependency to mutate into addiction. When we have to have something, it has us. Nevertheless, dependency’s shadow-side ought not to be allowed to pollute our relationship to dependency.
Accepting dependency isn’t going to go very far if we don’t feel safe. The lack of trust that’s part of not feeling safe must be explored if we are to truly face being dependent. This means, among other things, becoming more intimate with our mistrust, however far back it goes. Those who endured loveless childhoods initially need not to open to dependence, but rather to the pain of that time, entering it so fully and so consciously that they can access the resources and energies which they’d originally had to turn away from.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
B. Dan/Crystallake2 asks:
1. I was thinking of guilt and shame. Do you think that the blue meme has the biggest and most powerful influence over these dysfunctional pathologies? They are so rampant in our society as RAM points out in the newsletter and blue certainly has had a powerful hold on the spiral through shame and guilt, a form of emotional/mental manipulation and control.
Robert answers:
Before responding, I want to emphasize that shame is not necessarily a “dysfunctional pathology” (as described in my March newsletter). With that said, let’s take a look at what has the “biggest and most powerful influence” over shame and guilt. A leading candidate would appear to be that pushy, obsessively grade-giving complexity called a “should”. We all carry around “shoulds”, and not just in our minds. Taking on esteemed others’ expectations of us can be one hell of a burden, no matter how diligently we “should”-er them. And not just our shoulders get loaded with heavy expectations; our backs bend, our necks sag, our limbs lose tone or try to cover up the ache with exaggerated tone.
But let’s not be too hard on “shoulds” -- what really matters is what we do with them. If we submit to them, we set ourselves up for more shame than is necessary. If we let them set our moral compass, misdirection is the result. If we don’t challenge them, we wither. Since “shoulds” are inevitable -- what culture does not have them? -- we’d do best to clarify and illuminate them, seeing them for what they are, so that we can make wise use out of them when they arise. Sometimes it helps to battle them; sometimes it helps to corner them; sometimes it helps to undress them; but most of all, it helps to recognize them for what they are, so as to not take what they say as truth.
Freedom from “should”-ing means not an end to “shoulds”, but an end to letting them have power over us.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
C. ambosuno asks:
1. Quickly, I like how he describes the feelings of shame. I like how he presents the very common amalgams and maskings of shame. I think still to be explored for me is the roots of shame - more consideration than just native morality may be helpful - whether it is always truly native/intrinsic or whether shame can still occur from learned and introjected stuff, that isn't yet called guilt.
2. I appreciated how guilt was defined and yet there may be other subtly different ways to slice through our experience that would give a little different definition. Similarly with resentment. It was parsimoniously clarifying for me to hear the simple formulas of guilt and resentment equal shame plus fear/anxiety and aggression, respectively; and I wondered a little about that as well.
Robert answers:
1. I think that though shame is native/intrinsic, its shaping, intensity, and dramatics have much to do with learned and introjected material. Just as anger, fear, joy, and sadness are innate emotions, so too is shame; it comes with incarnation. Ideally, it serves to keep us in check when we’re going too far (or are in danger of going too far) with certain activities; then it simply serves our growth through apt restraint. But usually shame is not restricted to such good use; it easily gets overloaded with parental and societal shoulds, and quickly becomes dysfunctional, crippling rather than curbing us. And shame isn’t necessarily just about doing badly; I recall being shamed by a high school teacher for getting the highest grade in the class (what he managed to do was make me feel as if I’d screwed up by making my classmates look bad. His reasons? I don’t know, but I do remember how much he enjoyed the process). In its toxic forms, shame gives us a very compelling sense of being defective.
2. Guilt is, to me, basically fear-infused shame (for more on this, see my March 2006 newsletter). The fear may be minimal, or may not seem like fear, but it is there. This is not to say that other emotions or states may not also be part of guilt. For example, anger may join the party, maybe adding a bit more intensity to the whipping. Or there may be some depression creeping in, hanging out in the corners, adding to the sag of guilt. And to complicate things further, there may be considerable pleasure in being “bad” (for the childish side of guilt). Quite a mix this all is, sticky to the point of keeping us stuck in guilt’s stalemated domain.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
D. Arthur/adastra asks:
1. I find indexing very helpful (the more thoroughly indexed the better), especially in books with a high density of information, such as yours. Yet your books are not indexed, alas. Is there a stylistic or other reason for this? Is it possible that you might start having your books indexed at some point? If not, why not?
2. Recently on Integral Naked I quoted something by Philip K. Dick which unexpectedly resonated with DSW in my mind:
"I actually had to develop a love of the disordered and puzzling, viewing reality as a vast riddle to be joyfully tackled, not in fear but with tireless fascination. What has been most needed is reality testing, & a willingness to face the possibility of self-negating experiences: i.e. real contradictions, with something being both true & not true.
The enigma is alive, aware of us, & changing. It is partly created by our own minds: we alter it by perceiving it, since we are not outside it. As our views shift, it shifts. In a sense it is not there at all (acosmism). In another sense it is a vast intelligence: in another sense it is total harmonia and structure (how logically can it be all three? Well, it is)." - PKD, Exegesis, p. 91
What do you think of this quote? Does this resonate for you? Do you find the second paragraph in particular to have some similarity to the way you talked about the Nondual? And, incidentally, are you familiar with PKD, and if so what do you think of his work?
Robert answers:
1. Truth is, I ‘ve never thought of indexing them. But now, and I mean right now as I’m reading your question, I am thinking of indexing them. Perhaps the first will be Divine Dynamite (I’m revising and adding a few more chapters to it, and could add an index to it before getting it republished).
2. PKD...I’ve read some of his stuff, having a vague memory of some mind-bending material that chewed away at the foundations of what ordinarily passes for reality. If he’d brought a more esthetic dimension to his edgy imaginative musings, I’d put him alongside SF master writers like Theodore Sturgeon.
I like the quote, both in the direction it suggests and in its feel for the paradoxical nature of the Real. An interesting flirtation with the Nondual...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A. Jana/Plasmafly asks:
1. I don't particularly have enemies, but I do have human situations in which there is a lack of communication and understanding, actually most human situations. I would love to be able to communicate myself fully, truthfully and genuinely in every situation and encounter. Perhaps I believe I have to constantly pretend in order to survive. I know that an authentic life is possible, somewhere over the rainbow.
"This asks that we stretch and expand and open, permitting ourselves vulnerability, a vulnerability that is a source of strength, especially the kind of strength that is utterly unthreatened by dependency."
Ok, well this really pushes some buttons. I suppose the ultimate act of love is acknowledging and living up to that dependency consciously, rather than rebelling from it, denying it or using it unconsciously to manipulate. This would be the growing edge for me, since I have fundamental trust issues and abhor dependency like it's an ax in the head. Thus for me dependency has a hard time maturing because I refuse to face it. Any ideas on how to accept dependency?
Robert answers:
First of all, accepting dependency does not necessarily mean submitting to dependency.
An aversion to dependency can easily result in an overattachment to independence. The more problematic our orientation to dependency is, the more likely it is that we’ll deify independence and the egoic knot at its center, including in spiritual contexts.
Accepting dependency is not an act of submission, but of surrender. Submission is passive, but surrender is dynamic. In submission, we collapse our boundaries, but in surrender, we expand them. Through such expansion, more than enough room for dependence is made, permitted, allowed.
When we see, really see, our dependence (whether on oxygen or love or washboard abs), we are brought face to face with our vulnerability. With so much that could go wrong, doesn’t it seem like a miracle that enough of it works to keep us here for a while? Contemporary sensibilities aren’t particularly fond of needing anything, and so not only assume a problematic position regarding dependency, but also don’t assume much of a positive view of interdependence (since within its omnipresent relational web, dependence is an unavoidable and often obvious reality).
None of the above is to say that dependency is always a good thing. It’s worth asking: Which dependency? Should we accept all dependencies? Of course not. If a particular dependency does not serve your well-being, don’t accept it. If it still attracts you, you’ve got some work to do. It doesn’t take much for dependency to mutate into addiction. When we have to have something, it has us. Nevertheless, dependency’s shadow-side ought not to be allowed to pollute our relationship to dependency.
Accepting dependency isn’t going to go very far if we don’t feel safe. The lack of trust that’s part of not feeling safe must be explored if we are to truly face being dependent. This means, among other things, becoming more intimate with our mistrust, however far back it goes. Those who endured loveless childhoods initially need not to open to dependence, but rather to the pain of that time, entering it so fully and so consciously that they can access the resources and energies which they’d originally had to turn away from.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
B. Dan/Crystallake2 asks:
1. I was thinking of guilt and shame. Do you think that the blue meme has the biggest and most powerful influence over these dysfunctional pathologies? They are so rampant in our society as RAM points out in the newsletter and blue certainly has had a powerful hold on the spiral through shame and guilt, a form of emotional/mental manipulation and control.
Robert answers:
Before responding, I want to emphasize that shame is not necessarily a “dysfunctional pathology” (as described in my March newsletter). With that said, let’s take a look at what has the “biggest and most powerful influence” over shame and guilt. A leading candidate would appear to be that pushy, obsessively grade-giving complexity called a “should”. We all carry around “shoulds”, and not just in our minds. Taking on esteemed others’ expectations of us can be one hell of a burden, no matter how diligently we “should”-er them. And not just our shoulders get loaded with heavy expectations; our backs bend, our necks sag, our limbs lose tone or try to cover up the ache with exaggerated tone.
But let’s not be too hard on “shoulds” -- what really matters is what we do with them. If we submit to them, we set ourselves up for more shame than is necessary. If we let them set our moral compass, misdirection is the result. If we don’t challenge them, we wither. Since “shoulds” are inevitable -- what culture does not have them? -- we’d do best to clarify and illuminate them, seeing them for what they are, so that we can make wise use out of them when they arise. Sometimes it helps to battle them; sometimes it helps to corner them; sometimes it helps to undress them; but most of all, it helps to recognize them for what they are, so as to not take what they say as truth.
Freedom from “should”-ing means not an end to “shoulds”, but an end to letting them have power over us.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
C. ambosuno asks:
1. Quickly, I like how he describes the feelings of shame. I like how he presents the very common amalgams and maskings of shame. I think still to be explored for me is the roots of shame - more consideration than just native morality may be helpful - whether it is always truly native/intrinsic or whether shame can still occur from learned and introjected stuff, that isn't yet called guilt.
2. I appreciated how guilt was defined and yet there may be other subtly different ways to slice through our experience that would give a little different definition. Similarly with resentment. It was parsimoniously clarifying for me to hear the simple formulas of guilt and resentment equal shame plus fear/anxiety and aggression, respectively; and I wondered a little about that as well.
Robert answers:
1. I think that though shame is native/intrinsic, its shaping, intensity, and dramatics have much to do with learned and introjected material. Just as anger, fear, joy, and sadness are innate emotions, so too is shame; it comes with incarnation. Ideally, it serves to keep us in check when we’re going too far (or are in danger of going too far) with certain activities; then it simply serves our growth through apt restraint. But usually shame is not restricted to such good use; it easily gets overloaded with parental and societal shoulds, and quickly becomes dysfunctional, crippling rather than curbing us. And shame isn’t necessarily just about doing badly; I recall being shamed by a high school teacher for getting the highest grade in the class (what he managed to do was make me feel as if I’d screwed up by making my classmates look bad. His reasons? I don’t know, but I do remember how much he enjoyed the process). In its toxic forms, shame gives us a very compelling sense of being defective.
2. Guilt is, to me, basically fear-infused shame (for more on this, see my March 2006 newsletter). The fear may be minimal, or may not seem like fear, but it is there. This is not to say that other emotions or states may not also be part of guilt. For example, anger may join the party, maybe adding a bit more intensity to the whipping. Or there may be some depression creeping in, hanging out in the corners, adding to the sag of guilt. And to complicate things further, there may be considerable pleasure in being “bad” (for the childish side of guilt). Quite a mix this all is, sticky to the point of keeping us stuck in guilt’s stalemated domain.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
D. Arthur/adastra asks:
1. I find indexing very helpful (the more thoroughly indexed the better), especially in books with a high density of information, such as yours. Yet your books are not indexed, alas. Is there a stylistic or other reason for this? Is it possible that you might start having your books indexed at some point? If not, why not?
2. Recently on Integral Naked I quoted something by Philip K. Dick which unexpectedly resonated with DSW in my mind:
"I actually had to develop a love of the disordered and puzzling, viewing reality as a vast riddle to be joyfully tackled, not in fear but with tireless fascination. What has been most needed is reality testing, & a willingness to face the possibility of self-negating experiences: i.e. real contradictions, with something being both true & not true.
The enigma is alive, aware of us, & changing. It is partly created by our own minds: we alter it by perceiving it, since we are not outside it. As our views shift, it shifts. In a sense it is not there at all (acosmism). In another sense it is a vast intelligence: in another sense it is total harmonia and structure (how logically can it be all three? Well, it is)." - PKD, Exegesis, p. 91
What do you think of this quote? Does this resonate for you? Do you find the second paragraph in particular to have some similarity to the way you talked about the Nondual? And, incidentally, are you familiar with PKD, and if so what do you think of his work?
Robert answers:
1. Truth is, I ‘ve never thought of indexing them. But now, and I mean right now as I’m reading your question, I am thinking of indexing them. Perhaps the first will be Divine Dynamite (I’m revising and adding a few more chapters to it, and could add an index to it before getting it republished).
2. PKD...I’ve read some of his stuff, having a vague memory of some mind-bending material that chewed away at the foundations of what ordinarily passes for reality. If he’d brought a more esthetic dimension to his edgy imaginative musings, I’d put him alongside SF master writers like Theodore Sturgeon.
I like the quote, both in the direction it suggests and in its feel for the paradoxical nature of the Real. An interesting flirtation with the Nondual...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
posted by adastra at 4:07 PM
