On Facing Ourselves

An article for the Buddhist Retreat Centre, Ixopo

How do we embrace the ineffability of what it means to be human without being overly seduced by the “bells and whistles” of mystical thinking? How do we address the struggles that we face without mistaking “self-help” for “self-critique”; without striving to always be better and more competitive labour in a free market? How do we ensure our survival in ways that consider the whole of humanity? I believe that, if we can avoid a Buddhism that serves as “spiritual materialism” (a form of escape from the reality of our lives) then Buddhism provides us with a beautiful existential method for facing life’s inexorable struggles and making the most of moments when it reveals its splendour.

This is perhaps why, twenty years later, I am still met with excited hesitation as the lane of Irises greet me as I enter the BRC. Attending a retreat can mean meeting that which arises, entrusting that there is something of value in the Dharma, and relinquishing habitual comforts. It takes courage. On the last retreat we hosted I was inspired by some ideas from European philosopher, Emmanuel Levinas. I asked retreatants to face each other and look into the face of the other as they meditated. It was a very moving experience for all and it left me wondering what we mean when we say that we need to “face” things? What does it mean when we look into ourselves and what is the best method for doing so?

In The Art of Solitude, Stephen Batchelor writes: “Look long and hard enough at yourself in isolation and suddenly you will see the rest of humanity staring back.” The retreat left me wondering that, if life has a “face”, what does it mean to look into that “face”? And, what happens when life starts to look back at you? Perhaps it means to stand accountable for these rare and transitory lives that we live? Our brief blips on the radar of human history as we hurtle our way to the inevitable end of the Holocene.

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Many who visit the sanctity of the BRC are “face to face” with unfathomable and, I am sure at times, unbearable aspects of what it means to be alive. There are things that are simply just too hard to “face” sometimes. The retreat setting can hold us as we find the courage to look towards our struggles, turning in and away from the world for a few days in order to find a response. Meditation is not just an effective way of “stress reduction”; it can be the means through which we gaze into the eyes of life - into what it means to be more conscious - meeting life in all its beauty, banality and bewilderment.

The global pandemic has forced us to pause and take a deep collective breath, asking: “What are the things that really matter?” In attempting to answer this question, I take inspiration from R.D.Laing and quote: “As adults, we have forgotten most of our childhood, not only its contents but its flavour; as men of the world, we hardly know of the existence of the inner world: we barely remember our dreams, and make little sense of them when we do; as for our bodies, we retain just sufficient proprioceptive sensations to co-ordinate our movements and to ensure the minimal requirements for biosocial survival - to register fatigue, signals for food, sex, defecation, sleep; beyond that, little or nothing. Our capacity to think, except in service of what we are dangerously deluded in supposing is our self-interest, and in conformity with common sense, is pitifully limited: our capacity even to see, hear, touch, taste and smell is so shrouded in veils of mystification that an intensive discipline of unlearning is necessary for anyone before one can begin to experience the world afresh, with innocence, truth and love.” (from The Politics of Experience and The Bird of Paradise, R.D Laing, 1967)

Thank you to the BRC for providing a place where I can remember to move, eat and sleep with consideration; contemplate my dreams; unlearn habitual ways of being; embrace the very fact that I am alive and bring awareness to how I respond to these uncertain times.

As writer and environmentalist Wendell Berry puts it: “When we no longer know what to do, we have come to our real work and when we no longer know which way to go, we have begun our real journey.” May we all have the courage and curiosity to continue to face the journey.

With Metta

Jason Ross