Читать книгу The Little Book of Letting Go - Hugh Prather - Страница 20

Every day we construct a shrine of worry and carefully set in place each cherished object of concern. There is often a central focal point of worship—perhaps an upcoming event or a question about our health. The subject may seem reasonable, yet notice that an embarrassment from the day before or even from ten years earlier can also occupy an honored place at the shrine. It's as if our aim is to worship problems, not solutions; to worship questions, not answers. We are quick to find fault with any remedy that comes to mind or that someone suggests, just so we can keep worrying.

But isn't this “natural”?

Certainly it's natural in the sense that it's universal. But so are tooth decay, death, jealousy, colds, accidents, losing one's train of thought, hiccups, arriving late, forgetting names, and lecturing teenagers. Very few of us would argue that these natural states and traits are beneficial. Worrying doesn't cause us to feel more comfortable or facilitate better decisions.

Worrying fragments the mind, shatters focus, distorts perspective, and destroys inner ease. Worrying is self-afflicted distress. It has no consistent practical outcome, one that can be predicted and relied on. For example, worrying is not planning. Indeed, worry can delay and even prevent the planning that would otherwise remove a chronic concern. Worry is mental chaos and feels bad. Therefore it is junk—but junk we accumulate and endure every day of our lives.

Suggested time: 1 or more days

One day is all you need to prove to yourself the effectiveness of this Release, but it's a tool you can use to great effect for the rest of your life. This Release also illustrates several of the fundamental concepts of this book, namely, that our ego is our desire to be separate; that the experience of connection or unity with someone or some thing outside ourselves neutralizes our ego; and that sincerity (focus, commitment) is the key to successfully letting go of anything.

 Identify a line of thought that is torturing you.

This should be a piece of cake. You probably already have one in mind. Perhaps the two most common ones are something we keep worrying about, and someone we keep arguing with in our mind. The first involves the future—a fear of what might happen. The second involves the past—distress over someone's behavior or distress over the way some event played out.

It's important to see that even if what we can't stop thinking about is an event, other people's reactions are central to our distress. Our mind doesn't get stuck on events that no one else witnesses or will ever know about. If for instance we do something really stupid while hiking, we may laugh about it, but we don't keep going over and over the mistake—unless of course we know that the mistake will be obvious when we return.

The reason I make this point is that our ego is always up to the same thing—to create more separation (more difference, distance, or distinction) between ourselves and others.

 The next time you notice the line of thought you have identified, interrupt it (just don't complete it).

 Then think of something, anything, that contains love or connection.

Think of your dog. Think of your garden. Or your partner, child, friend, or a loving relative. Or think of God or the light of God. Or perhaps think of a scene of thoughtfulness, generosity, forgiveness, or humor between two people—an event you once witnessed or were involved in.

To bless, pray for, or hold in light the person who is the object of your worry or judgment is also a connecting thought and a very powerful one. However, you may not be able to do this if your feelings about this person are too disturbed, in which case any other thought of oneness or joining will do.

Just identify the thought. Interrupt the thought. And think of anything with love in it. Do this procedure even once and you will see that you can always let go of a distressing line of thought in the present. Most people, however, don't seem to know that.

We believe that we simply can't stop worrying or judging—it's just something the mind does—so we halfheartedly fight this mental activity by getting mad at ourselves or by trying to reinterpret the situation.

The mind-splitting effect of getting mad at ourselves is perhaps obvious. Yet many people assume that reinterpreting what someone did or what some future event will mean is a gentler, more reasonable approach. Actually, the effect is the same. We introduce a new interpretation to do battle with our first interpretation and thus split our mind. We never quite believe the new interpretation (“He probably wasn't trying to hurt my feelings; he just gets yelled at a lot at work”; “She probably wasn't trying to cheat me; she's just scared her store isn't going to make it”), and our minds go back and forth trying to decide which way to look at it.

Meanwhile, the anxious or judgmental line of thought continues, and, eventually, we give up and resort to just enduring the distress, hoping it will soon run its course. In this way we spend hours or days in an unhappy frame of mind.

Even then it's not over. As soon as one thing we are concerned about or smoldering over is finished, another upset takes its place. This dynamic is one of a thousand reasons that learning to let go is fundamental to our happiness and peace of mind.

Once you prove to yourself that any distressing line of thought can be released in the present, the problem then becomes that three minutes, an hour, or a day from now, the thought comes back.

Where does it come from?

Any thought that distresses us is a product of our polluted, conflicted mind, which from time to time I will also refer to as “the ego.” The ego part of us wants to distinguish itself from other people. Its goal is to be set apart, different, and unequal, and it correctly sees connection as its mortal enemy. Worry thoughts and attack thoughts create a sense of isolation. The longer we pursue them, the more cut off we feel, thereby fulfilling the aim of our ego.

Therefore, to permanently let go of a distressing line of thought, we must set a goal of connection and mental wholeness and make that more important than our ego goal of separation.

 Plan out what your response will be the next time your ego offers you the line of thought.

You want the response you set in place to be very brief and direct. You will interrupt the thought and you will … surround in light the person about whom you have been having revenge fantasies. Or say to yourself, “I put the future in God's hands.” Or think about how funny the new kitten is. Or picture divine light filling and cleansing your mind.

Once again, any thought that is in some way loving, happy, or peaceful is sufficient, because it contains connection, and your ego does not want you focusing on connection.

 Decide to be sincere. Say to yourself, “No matter how many times my ego brings up this thought, I will respond as I have planned. I will out-endure my ego. If it brings this up a thousand times, I will respond one thousand and one times.”

Once your ego sees that, for example, you are going to hold the person in light whenever it suggests that you think of her or him in a distancing or separating way, it will stop bringing up this line of thought. Perhaps it will test your sincerity a few more times, but this particular form of distress will fade away surprisingly quickly once you take a permanent stand.

The procedure I have outlined for stopping a distressing line of thought does work as neatly and consistently as I have implied. Yet I want you to know that I often have trouble applying it. This is not because it's in any way a complex or tiring procedure, but because I am conflicted about actually giving up the line of thought.

Whether the thought is one of worry or judgment, all distressing thoughts come from our desire to be separate, to be right, to stand apart, and so on. This desire is stronger in us than our desire to be whole, connected, and at peace; otherwise, these struggles would never arise in the first place. When I see that I am not consistently applying the above steps—identify the thought; interrupt the thought; think of a subject of connection; put in place a plan for when the thought returns—I have found that I save time if I take a moment to consciously realize that I do indeed want to stop using my mind to torture myself, shatter my peace, and put myself in a mental position where I am of no use to those I love. Above all, I must become clear that I want to look upon the people involved in the line of thought with gentleness and understanding rather than with censure. This may not be easy if I am angry with them. It always boils down to the question I can only answer for myself: Do I in fact want to walk toward God, toward Love, or, through justification and judgment, away from God?