by Juliana Diniz

Recorded by Rebecca Selove

Joanna Macy often talks about the misconception of associating the effects and results of destruction with people’s ignorance and indifference. It is common to think that people are unaware of what is happening in the world or that, if they do, they simply do not care. But the human ability to respond to what is happening around them is a much more complex phenomenon than this thought.

Every day we are confronted with news that portrays different expressions of loss, trauma, illness and collapse in the field of intimate relationships, political and socioeconomic reality and ecological dynamics. This is how newscasts gain an audience. Despite this, we may appear to remain indifferent. But this is not an indifference born of human insensitivity, Joanna clarifies. Deep down, we care, and because we care it is difficult to deal with social pathologies and systemic crises in a conscious and engaged way.

Recognizing this means giving a vote of confidence to human goodness. People know and care about what’s going on. Non-responsiveness persists largely because of the difficulty we have, especially in the West, in dealing with the emotions that emerge when we are confronted with suffering and challenged to assume responsibility in the face of hard, complex and touching realities that are too impactful to be ignored.

In the book Coming Back to Life, recently republished in Brazil, Joanna and Molly (2014) make clear that the indifference and apathy widespread in the contemporary globalized world, so uncomfortable for more sensitive people and activists, are damping strategies. They are protective mechanisms against the fear that arises when a challenge seems to be much bigger than we are and we believe we do not have the circumstantial resources and inner conditions necessary to face it.

In the same direction, scholars and practitioners of Tibetan Buddhism understand that apathy arises from the fear of not having the necessary stability to embrace suffering without becoming overwhelmed¹. Hence the importance of welcoming the undesirable, as the title of the book by the Buddhist nun Pema Chödrön says, through practices that broaden our ability to witness reality as it presents itself, confident that we are able to see, make sense and respond in a appropriate way to what we see happening in the inner and outer worlds.

We are not as powerless as we think we are

Practices like Tonglen build in us the ability to deal with the discomfort and pain we feel when something seems to break our hearts. A possible translation of the Tibetan word tonglen is “give and take”. Pema Chödrön (2023) describes it as a mind training practice that seeks to change our attitude towards pain in order to open our hearts to painful emotions, and to experience this awareness as something that softens us, purifies us, and makes us more loving and kind.

The practice of Tonglen as a formal meditation follows a few steps that, after repeated many times, become a spontaneous attitude towards life. First, we rest the mind for a few seconds in a state of openness or stillness. Then we work with textures, breathing in warmth, darkness and heaviness, and breathing out serenity, clarity and lightness through every pore of the body. We then work on a personal situation that is painful by synchronizing the breath—breathing in suffering and breathing out release—in relation to the aspect in question.

Next, we expand our consideration to all those who, like us, go through the same kind of suffering. For example, if I’m feeling incapable, I breathe in that feeling for myself and others who are in the same boat, and I exude confidence and relief. Finally, we make this practice as comprehensive as possible, extending it to those we know and love as well as those we don’t know or who represent enemies. We bring to this practice all those we see suffering from the presence of a feeling that is hurting or imprisoning them, and think of them as gripped by the same confusion and powerlessness that we see in ourselves. I breathe in your pain and breathe out relief.

With the recurrence of these exercises we realize that emotions like anger, fear and guilt are not as solid as they seem at the moment they arise, and we learn to find in our own emotional pain the strength to deal with the challenges of our time. And whenever we find the strength to face suffering, we discover that we are not as helpless as we think we are. This is the faith that overflows in the words and gestures of Joanna Macy and that animates the people involved with the Work That Reconnects.

Softening the being

Christina Feldman (2022), professor of academic programs related to mindfulness and Buddhist psychology, says that while opening our hearts to suffering may seem to make us suffer more, listening to the cries makes us better able to respond to its implicit requests. In fact, becoming aware increases our sensitivity and implies feeling loneliness, fear and impotence in the face of scenarios of suffering that were previously invisible. But it is this awareness that teaches us to read between the lines and see beyond appearances.

To take the blinders off our eyes and see, even with an aching heart, what is happening, we need to deal with suffering in a way other than fearing it. Both contemplative practitioners and psychological scientists say that the fear of suffering does not come from the pain itself, but from not wanting to experience it because of the cognitive assessments we make about it. For Gabor Maté (2008), a doctor specializing in child development and trauma, trying to escape pain is what causes the most pain. According to Kristin Neff (2012), a psychology professor at the University of Texas and a researcher on self-compassion, suffering is the result of the effort we make to hold the pain away from us. It grows the more we think we shouldn’t suffer when, in fact:

Being able to grieve is good news because it means you can share power, joy and love. Let your pain say you are not alone. What we thought could separate us is precisely what connects us (Macy, 2000, p. 255).

Resisting hyper-individualization

  The negative connotation associated with emotions such as sadness, fear, anger and guilt based on the belief that these experiences are avoidable or circumventable has to do with the dictatorship of happiness and the contemporary well-being industry. Western globalization in the world, with its blind faith in science, industry and technology, tries to convince us that emotional pain is a sign of weakness. Corporate groups in the health and leisure industry build their communication campaigns on this premise by claiming that we have the technical knowledge and technological innovations to appease the human experience of anguish and distress.

In this way, shared sadness is privatized and replaced by objects and experiences that hold the promise of bringing individual happiness. While we consent to exchange what is true, essential and alive for things that are mistaken, superficial and lifeless, the consumerism and technicism that define western modernity deepens. When what is common and non-negotiable is transformed into private and salable, we lose the ground that connects us as a human community:

It is hard to believe we feel pain for the world if we assume we’re separate from it. The individualistic bias of Western culture supports that assumption. Feelings of fear, anger or despair about the world tend to be interpreted in terms of personal pathology. Our distress over the state of the world is seen as stemming from some neurosis, rooted perhaps in early trauma or unresolved issues with a parental figure that we’re projecting on society at large. Thus we are tempted to discredit feelings that arise from solidarity with our fellow-beings (Macy, J. & Brown, M. Y., 2014, p. 26).

Joanna and Molly reinforce the idea that for emotional pain to be a vector of personal and collective development and transformation, we cannot ignore the current tendency of health professionals and the lay public to pathologize individuals. Many of the diagnoses of depression are related to the lack of meaning in people’s daily lives. Other individuals diagnosed with depression have had prolonged experiences of stress and trauma in their family or social context. In both cases we are talking about issues whose roots are in the worldview and operation of an entire society.

  So we are faced with the following scenario: The causes and conditions for a meaningful life are not socially promoted. The voice that calls for connection and authenticity is muffled in the context of formal education. Emotional sensitivity and vulnerability are stigmatized in the world of work, homes and social circles. When we fail to hide our vulnerability we are considered weak and failures. So, we are medicated by the health industry so that the symptoms are masked, even though our “pathology” is the only thing that connects us with the quest for a worthwhile life.

The way out of a desolate psychic scenario certainly lies in psychotherapeutic care that considers people’s unique contexts. There are a number of ways to do this competently and without neglecting the systemic causes underlying the particular symptoms. But beyond solutions focused on individual action, we need to penetrate the pain collectively. We need to deprivatize pain by recognizing that “my pain is not mine alone”.

Depathologizing the individual is a compassionate service that we provide to those who manifest these symptoms and feel smaller for it. It is a way of resisting the hyper-individualization and competitive scarcity culture that fuels the industrial growth society. After all, as warned by the Indian philosopher Jiddu Krishnamurti (1960, p. 119), “has not society itself helped to make the individual unhealthy? […] Without first questioning the health of society, what is the good of helping misfits to conform to society?”. 

Unclogging the emotional pores

Grief is a natural response to belonging together. There is an intrinsic connection between the condition of the Earth and our minds, and between planetary health and our personal health and well-being. Naturally, our physical and emotional state is affected by the recurrent experience of seeing attacks on people’s dignity, the integrity of human communities and local ecosystems. And, in general, urban populations suffer from a deficit of nature and authentic relationships —  our main sources of health and vitality.

Feeling sadness, fear, anger and hopelessness in the face of what is happening around us can be intensely visceral. This visceral aspect of pain is something that connects us deeply to life. The living experience of pain maintains our awareness of the inexplicable connection that exists between us and all beings and phenomena that share existence with us. Without this, we lack  an important source of direction and self-regulation, and are vulnerable to reproducing thoughts and behaviors that threaten life and the conditions conducive to its flourishing.

The human story is a story of love, redemption, kindness, and generosity. It is also a story of violence, division, neglect, and cruelty. Faced with all of this, we can soften, reach out, and do all we can to ease suffering. Or we can choose to live with fear and denial—doing all we can to guard our hearts from being touched, afraid of drowning in this ocean of sorrow (Feldman, 2022, no page).

From unclogging emotional pores, creative and powerful healing, development and transformation responses arise. The re-awareness of our being and the unblocking of our responsiveness develop as we trust that we can take care of ourselves and our own pain. It may sound corny, but making friends with our emotional state, moment by moment, is subversive and transformative.

The potential of this gesture is immensely amplified when we recognize the interface of our personal emotional experience with the state of the world, and create spaces to collectively go through the pain. We only take care of what we love, and we can’t love what we don’t see and what we don’t relate to. In order for us to see and feel what has been ignored for so long, we need to create safe spaces where we listen to our pain and welcome what it reveals to us. It is in the pain felt by the world where the ability to participate in planetary healing lives. We are invited to collectively step into the pain by honoring it as a response to caring about Gaia’s destiny.

Notes

1 This argument is present in the books: Altruism: The power of compassion to change yourself and the world by Matthieu Ricard; A fearless heart: How the courage to be compassionate can transform our lives by Thupten Jinpa; Standing at the edge: Finding freedom where fear and courage meet by Joan Halifax; and Welcoming the unwelcome: Wholehearted living in a brokenhearted world by Pema Chödrön. Through the perspective of Tibetan Buddhism, these books deal with the themes of empathy, compassion, altruism, and suggest ideas and practices that we can incorporate in order to develop these capacities.

References

Chödrön, P. (2023) How to Practice Tonglen. Lions Roar: Buddhist wisdom for our time, January 2023, no page. https://www.lionsroar.com/how-to-practice-tonglen/

Feldman, C. (2022). She who hears the cries of the world. Lions Roar: Buddhist wisdom for our time, April 2022, no page. https://www.lionsroar.com/she-who-hears-the-cries-of-the-world/

Macy, J. (2000). Encouraging words for activists. In Kaza, S. & Kraft, K. (Eds.), Dharma Rain: Sources of Buddhist Environmentalism (pp. 252-257). Boston, MA: Shambala.

Macy, J. & Brown, M. Y. (2014). Coming back to life: The updated guide to the Work That Reconnects. Gabriola Island, B.C.: New Society Publishers.

Maté, G. (2008). In the realm of hungry ghosts: Close encounters with addiction. Berkeley, CA: North Atlantic Books.

Neff, K. (2012). Self-Compassion: Stop beating yourself up and leave insecurity behind. New York, NY: William Morrow.

Krishnamurti, J. (1960). The fragmentation of man is making him sick. In Krishnamurti, J. Commentaries on Living: Third Series (pp. 116-125). New York, NY: Harper & Bros.

 

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Recorded by Rebecca Selove

Juliana Diniz is social scientist with emphasis on anthropology, co-founder of the Institute for Regenerative Development (IDR), facilitator of Gaia Education and Work That Reconnects. She has academic and practical experience related to traditional knowledge systems, ethnodevelopment and decoloniality. Combining her experiences in the anthropological and holistic sciences, she facilitates processes of personal and collective learning and development that promote planetary health and protect the Earth’s biocultural memory. She lives on the edge of a national park where she takes care of a small agroforestry site and guides people in immersions in the landscape.