Monday, November 27, 2006

Robert Augustus Masters Q&A Part Nineteen

April 16, 2006

A. Jana/Plasmafly asks:

In Mind Wide Open: Your Brain and the Neuroscience of Everyday Life by Steven Johnson he says on page 111 that only 5% of mammals are monogamous and that the key factor in creating monogamy was oxytocin in a certain brain area. Obviously the generation of this type of chemistry could be "institutionalized" through changes in an animals collective social patterns.

Also in a fantastic article by Robert M. Sapolsky

He says that humans physiologically are neither monogamous or polygamous but both. "We lack the type of physiology or anatomy that in other mammals determine their mating system, and have come up with societies based on monogamy, polygyny, and polyandry."6

It appears that the mature monogamy that you suggest is a form of art that transcends both biology and culture...hence you could say that it might be the both a magnification and culmination of both biology and culture would it not?


Robert answers:

Mature monogamy is, among other things, a psychospiritual art, existing not just outside the confines of conventional culture, but also beyond it. That is, it exists not on the horizontal outskirts of the conventional (where we can dress up in nonconventional habits and practices), but as part of a vertical dimension of relationality that is not apparent until we rub the sleep out of our I’s.

Put another way, mature monogamy is not a different state of relationship, but rather a different stage. There is much that could be said about this stage, but for now let’s just say that it features a radical intersubjectivity in which whatever arises is not just related from, but also related to, through a mutually transparent intimacy and love.

Mature monogamy is not something we can enter into and practice just because it sounds like a good idea to us; we have to be ready for it. And how do we get ready? By exposing, exploring, and ceasing to be a pawn of our conditioning; by turning toward our pain; by doing practices that wake us up; by adopting a nonproblematic orientation toward our difficulties; by putting our passion into leaving our prisons rather than trying to make them cozier or sexier (so that we, to take but one example, no longer confuse the eroticizing of unresolved issues with sexual freedom). Doing such deep work on ourselves doesn’t necessarily lead to mature monogamy, but it makes it possible.

Those who are in deadening monogamous relationships -- and most monogamous relationships are, despite upbeat appearances to the contrary, deadening (flattening, dulling, desiccating) -- will not have a chance at mature monogamy until their desire to be truly free becomes stronger (or is allowed to become more central) than their desire to continue distracting themselves from their suffering. They may try all kinds of strategies to make themselves feel better -- sexual, narcotic, and otherwise -- but what they really need to do is together face the deadness and stuckness in their relationship and do whatever work is necessary to get to the root of it. This means that they need to be willing to face the possibility that they may have to part; doing deep work does not guarantee that they will stay together. Perhaps their bond can mutate into one of mature monogamy, and perhaps not. But if they do the necessary work, they will become capable of mature monogamy, whether with each other or another.

In immature monogamy, we have an affair with the other’s conditioning and/or potential. In mature monogamy, we marry the other’s being; we’re not seduced by their potential, nor are we locked into their (or our) conditioning. Rather, we know our partner’s conditioning as intimately as our our own, and are able to keep it in healthy perspective, letting ourselves be awakened, rather than constrained, by it. There is no neat cartography for this. It is an art, a truly integral art that asks nothing less than everything of us. Rather than exploiting the possibilities of our bond, we instead awaken through our full-blooded participation in it.

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B. Timelody/Tim asks:

I believed for my entire life that major events in my family during my early childhood (0-5) “did not affect me.” This is because for some 27 years there was literally no emotion about it. It was all “no big deal.”
And then, only four years ago, an argument with my mother suddenly jarred something loose and a crack broke in what is in reality a massive dyke that I truly was not aware existed . . . much less carried around with me every second . . . and suddenly made my entire life make sense in a way it never had before. That is, I was suddenly aware of the fact that not only was I wholly NOT “not effected” but that this had been secretly molding, shaping, determining and motivating who I was, how I related to people, where I wanted to go, what I pursued to such a degree it was as if I was actually carrying the Empire State building on my shoulders, though unaware and pretending to be "okay."
But this was not the only thing, and this is what scares me: I was suddenly completely aware of the exact same thing in every single member of my large family (six kids) and how all of the major patters, dominant personality traits, life paths, escape mechanisms and so forth could all be traced to this same thing. I could see how all of our lives, literally grew up (and apart in a millions directions) out of this completely unhealthy, weird, toxic and dysfunctional family culture-and we were all trying to avoid admitting it, parents included.
My mother was not mentally (psychologically-emotionally) healthy when I was born. Her mental stability was falling apart before I was born and only became more unstable after. She in fact had to be hospitalized several times over the course of many years, had several major “nervous breakdowns” (as the only way that it has ever been explained) and in between those she was continually not well. (There was even last resort electro-shock therapy, paranoid delusions, complete magical regress, emotional-religious overtones, mention of schizophrenia - just to demonstrate the extent of it.) And it is as if once the psycho-emotional-spiritual and existential nuclear explosion of this experience was physically over, everyone just shut it out, not knowing what hit them. The bomb went off, but the echoes have never been sounded, the damage and debris never assessed, all of that simply disappeared into a vortex of invisible nothingness.
When I realized this I was shocked in a way I have never been shocked before. It was as if my entire life had been a lie, and also that of my family, when the massive effects of this were so obvious to see, everywhere and in everyone. In over thirty years we have met together as an entire family in one place at once time only twice. There is now a third looming on the near horizon-my parents 50th wedding anniversary.
And when I think of this approaching anniversary I find myself stuck in world of either anger or depression. I don’t feel like there is anything to celebrate. I am angry that these things were not dealt with better. I am angry that our family fell apart and no one ever tried to put it back together. I am angry that I have lived an entire life in a state of what in large part feels like embarrassment and nobody ever tried to do anything about it except pretend it was all okay.
None the less, I do not want to ruin this important celebration, but I am not sure I will be able to stop myself. It will be completely unfair, I think, if this 0-5 baby who has never released his emotions (and all the other stages after) does so now. And yet, I don’t know how I can hold it back. The consequence of that –something I seem to have grown truly adept in-is a complete emotional shut-off, a void blank depression without expression. It is as if visiting is a descent into a dark and suffocating world with no way out. The family setting is the trigger for this and I believe explains perfectly why we have such a pitiful history of celebrating anything together.
Do you have any suggestions or ways or anything that I can find the compassion and strength behind all this, to get through this, without dragging everyone into a past they are not ready (and may never be) to see?


Robert answers
:

If you do nothing other than keep the lid on, you’re going to have a hell of a time at your parents’ wedding anniversary, because the locks of repression have now been loosened up. My recommendation is to take the lid off as soon as possible, not with your parents and siblings (at least for a bit), but in a place where it’s safe to do so, as in the presence of a suitably skilled psychotherapist (one who knows how to deal with surfacing trauma and emotional intensities in a more than merely cognitive manner). Yes, you will feel a lot of pain, and you will likely feel sometimes as though you are a child again during this, but it is in entering that pain, that original wounding, that real healing begins. You may rage, you may sob, you may twist and writhe and ache, but the very movement of all this through your system will, sooner or later, cleanse you and ready you for a deeper life. As you do this, insights (including into what to do regarding your parents and siblings) will arise that very likely could not have otherwise been accessed. You’ll have left the “safety” of your numbness, and stepped into the raw feeling that most of your life has been a flight from and solution for -- no matter how much this hurts, you will know, right to your core, that you are getting back on track.

We have an amazing ability to encapsulate trauma and to keep it from everyday consciousness. This has obvious survival benefits -- how else, for example, could we get through an unrelentingly abusive childhood? -- but the price we pay is steep, especially when we carry such trauma into our adult years. Keeping the lid on take a lot of juice. Repression makes us more prone to depression. The issues in our tissues weight us down, slowly poisoning our natural vitality. We don’t feel fully. Being comfortably numb then becomes something not to undo, but to reinforce.

I suggest that you, as soon as possible, start doing some psychotherapy that works not just with your mind, but also with your body and emotions. Release-work is essential. You need to cut loose. This will go especially well if it includes talking to your mother as though she’s there (both as she was and is) in the therapy room with you, letting yourself speak freely, no matter how noisy, rude, crazy-sounding, or wild your expression is. It’s also important to do some grounding work at the end of the sessions and on your own, so as to help stabilize the openings you’ll be having.

If you’re not already working out, I recommend doing so (aerobic work is particularly important). Daily meditative practice would be very helpful. Writing letters (as part of your psychotherapy) to your mother and father -- wide-open, nothing-held-back, fuck-the-grammar letters that are not to be sent to them -- will speed your healing. Every day, at the end of your meditative practice, spend some time wishing your mother and father well (even if you were hating their guts a short time earlier in your therapy sessions or elsewhere). Cultivating compassion -- not idiot compassion, but real compassion -- for them (and yourself and your siblings) is worth doing, in conjunction with the full-out expression of your anger and grief regarding your early years with them.

I don’t know when your parents’ wedding anniversary is, but even if you only have time for a few sessions before then (plus every day do the mindfulness and compassion practices mentioned above), I think you’ll be able to handle the “celebration” without much trouble. You’ll see so much there, in the behavior and interactions of your parents and siblings, and you can treat it all as data to be stored until the time comes to share it. You might even feel a bit like an anthropologist doing field study, gathering information for an upcoming presentation. Release as much emotion as possible a few hours before the gathering (yelling/screaming into a pillow, breathing hard, letting your body shake, letting tears come, etcetera, as detailed by your therapist), and do what you do mindfully right up to and during the gathering, remembering to internally wish everyone there well, and you’ll likely have a relatively positive and highly instructive experience.

Sometime after the wedding anniversary you can begin speaking with your family members about what happened when you were little, when you’ve done enough work to be ready to do so. You might start by sharing what you’ve gone through with the sibling(s) most likely to understand and appreciate what you’re saying. I can also see you talking with your mother face-to-face -- again, when you’re ready (that is, no longer reactively caught up in what happened long ago) -- in such a way that she feels not shamed or diminished, but rather invited into a potentially healing dialogue. If you’re open and vulnerable with her, she may surprise you with what she says and does. And even if she doesn’t respond well to you, you’ll find that it is healing to simply talk about what has not been talked about. At some point, you might write about what happened when you were a boy, simply describing that time and how it impacted your life, and share it with everyone involved. Some might not respond well to this, but having it out in the open at least increases the odds of healing within the family.

Through all this, you will probably get more information about what actually happened to your mother and the rest of the family, far beyond the vague “nervous breakdown”. The more you can find out, the better. Make sure you also find out as much as possible about your birth (and how the preceding pregnancy was).

I realize that the thought of taking the lid off before going to your parents’ wedding anniversary is probably far from pleasant, but doing some deep work prior to that event will de-pressurize and loosen you, freeing you in unexpected ways.


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C. Arthur/adastra asks:

Robert, what are your impressions of the Integral Naked workshop compared to other workshops you've done? Do you feel that everyone knowing each other at the beginning made a difference? Many of us went back for more sessions afterward and also continued to process everything that came up on Saturday; indeed the entire week felt like a transformative workshop. Do you feel that the further individual sessions combined with the ongoing social interactions that week synergistically facilitated people's growth? (This is very much my personal impression.) If we decided to have another such workshop in future gatherings, is there any advice you'd offer based on the experience of this one?


Robert answers
:

The Integral Naked workshop was not fundamentally different than my other groups, but the already-present connections between the participants made the work done all the richer. I was reminded of the closeness of participants in my training programs who so obviously enjoy seeing each other again at each succeeding weekend module.

You ask if I “feel that the further individual sessions combined with the ongoing social interactions that week synergistically facilitated people's growth?” My answer is a resounding yes!

You also ask “If we decided to have another such workshop in future gatherings, is there any advice you'd offer based on the experience of this one?” Come prepared to do deep work, and to deepen your bonds with the others in the group. And, if at all possible, do some work with me prior to the group.

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