Fear of Change

My recent squaring off with the possibility of pending death brought the topic front and center. Many people assert that the fear of death is the greatest fear there is. I discovered that just isn’t true for me. The fears that really crimp me up are of a deeper sort. It may seem that it doesn’t get any deeper than death – but that isn’t my experience.

I notice in my own life, it is not physical death I’m most afraid of – but the possibility of some sort of torture just ahead. Something that is completely not of my choosing. What’s up there – around that bend I’m careening toward just might include some sort of pain I really, really don’t want. I glitch up the most when I feel completely out of control of where the boat is headed.

The greatest fear for many seems to be of change. Not just any old change, but specifically any change that really shakes things up in a way of major unknown consequences. Death figures right up there in this context as a major change-agent, of course. In a way, change does imply a death of sorts – to all things as we know them. And for many, the death of the body tops the list for the biggest change possible.

But, for some of us, death implies simply a change in form. And some of us don’t buy into the myth that the body is forever, so that particular facet of change doesn’t bother us so much. In fact, if we’ve hung out with really sick and ailing elders for a while, we may come to realize that death of the body is a deep blessing when it finally comes. There are other “deaths” – not necessarily of the body or physical form that are far more scary. There are forms of annihilation of the self that run deeper than dropping the physical form. For instance, if we feel of absolutely no value anymore, that is deeply painful. We – as living entities – may consider ourselves as surpassing and continuing on beyond the death of the body. But if we no longer find value in our very existence – in any shape – it is a terribly lonely proposition.

When we frame the conversation that way we open it up to realize the source of many sorts of suffering among us. We can understand the misery of those whose voices hold no weight – either because of gender, economics or age. Those who have “proven” themselves to have no worth by somebody’s strict dogmatic standards. Those of any minority in any place when the majority somehow consider themselves superior.

There is also, in today’s culture, some validity to the fear of getting old and dying – in the way it happens here. To enter the medical community as an old, sick person is often to lose any sense of dignity of self-propriety whatsoever. The worst part about my recent colon cancer mirage was the way the gastroenterologist who did the colonoscopy treated me. Like a brainless child who was meant to follow his orders. Not in the least interested in my experience or brainpower.

And that’s in spite of my being a trained physician. Who scored in the top 99.8 percentile in verbal reasoning in the MCATs!

There is a debilitation of self that occurs under these conditions that far surpasses the sloughing off of the carbon-based skin form we’re lugging around. To be treated, and start to think of ourselves as a sort of nonexistent ghost still stuck on the planet – with no worth or substance of worth – is misery.

Death, as I said, becomes a blessing. Get us out of here already.

There is a recent article in the Time magazine which describes the remarkable turnaround in returning soldiers with PTSD when they are placed in community service opportunities. One of the subtitles of the article is “We still need you”.

That says it all. My prayer for us each: As long as we are on the planet, may we know ourselves to be worthy of the space we occupy.

Busy

Tibetan Dzogchen master Tenzin Wangyal Rinpoche describes the shock he experienced when he first came to the United States. Again and again, he heard a strange mantra: “I’m busy.” He came to realize that to say “I’m not busy” would be construed to mean there was something wrong. Something abnormal.

This rings true with my experience. When I resigned the Medical Director position of the Integrative Medicine program I developed in Corvallis, OR, I went through a prolonged period of distinct discomfort. Not because I had relinquished my role or responsibilities, but because there was no longer a succinct answer to the perpetual question of “what do you do?” Linking our identities to our functions is such a pervasive thing that the accompanying busyness associated has become a requisite to being defined as having value at all.

To “do nothing” is to BE nothing. A bum. A free-loader. A --- nothing.

Or so we think.

What if we unhinge that particular sequence, just for the folly of exploration? What if – just what if – we can BE, first? Just be. Try it now. See what happens. Notice your breathing, sensations, thoughts, feelings – all arising and then passing away. Notice the spaciousness within which all this happens. How peaceful, immense and grand it is.

What I‘ve noticed is that doing also arises from this spaciousness. Like every breath in inevitably leads to a breath out. Or vice versa. But the doing that arises from sequencing the dynamic in this way is ever so much more comfortable. Truer to self. Congruent with my inner state of happiness.

Lest you get the squeamies from the idea that you’ll never be functional again, I assure you that exactly the opposite is true. It’s even possible to accept a long-term job commitment under these conditions. But we won’t be confused, thinking that the ensuing busy-ness of our work is what defines our value. And, because the principles of a place chosen from inner awareness are more likely to be aligned with our values, it will not feel like a death sentence to our soul. It is possible to be settled with activities that are a cheerful alternative to mind-numbing, soul scorching work, if we choose from the inner state of peace and “yes” in the first place.

It’s taken me a few years to be comfortable with this. But I can honestly say that by focusing on my inner state as the central issue most needing attention, I’ve found such creative ideas of what to “do” with my time. I lOVE the experience of sharing from the heart. Whether that is to share my goods with a person who needs them, or my time for a cause. Whether to accept a position aligned with my values in a principled place, or to spend a weekend in silent meditation. The variability to the actions of my days still leaves me in a quandary as to how to answer the question: “What do you do?”, but I find myself more in tune with a river of peace by following this path in life.

We tend to choose our commitments more wisely when we rest first in the abiding peace of Being.
As we’ve so often heard: “Seek ye first the kingdom within”. Indeed, all things ARE aligned with that state when we do. Being in peace ensures that we peacefully respond to each situation that is best geared for the need of that moment, because we are not locked into a preformed idea of “who we are” as an external function. If we are busy, it is of this moment, and there may well be equally comfortable moments when we can say, with clear conscience: “I’m enjoying not being busy right now. And you?”