Tag: narcissism

Some Thoughts on Everyday Narcissism

On February 23, 2017

In Death, Dukkha, Enquiry, General, Memoir, Positivity, Resisting Death

A few decades ago, I had a friend who died of cancer. Let’s call her Milly. From the first, we had a basic kind of respect for each other; though we would clash occasionally. I didn’t understand it, then, but now I know that my arrogance triggered her. As a result, though we learnt to accept our differences, for some years we weren’t very close. Then, when she got cancer and she was dying, the relationship changed. Our conversation became real and beautiful. The presence of death brought out honesty and vulnerability in both of us.

I am reminded of her, because I’ve been reading a account of a mother screaming at her daughter during an argument, “How could you love a man who doesn’t love me?!” The narcissism of that attack is so obvious that I’d like to think that it’s a caricature. But, no – it really did happen.

So, what of Milly? On a summer day, months before she died, we were walking along a bushland track, reflecting. She shared that she had recently told her mother that she was dying; and through her tears she said that her mother had exclaimed: “How can you do this to me?!” I was shocked. No doubt her mother thought that she spoke from love; but I couldn’t see it. I still don’t. Why do we mistake narcissism for love?

A related instance is given by author Jeanette Winterson. Jeanette was sixteen, and her Pentacostal adoptive mother was evicting her – throwing her out for taking up with her second lesbian girlfriend. During the argument, Jeanette declared her wish for happiness – she wanted to be with her beloved, a female, because she wanted to be happy. Her adoptive mother’s response was, “Why be happy, when you could be normal?”

When I read that, I laughed. But, then I thought something like: “Hey. Hang on. That actually happened. A person was actually in such a condition of mind that could say such utterly ill-fitting words, and think them right.” Right where his youth Janet deserved understanding and care from her adoptive mother – right when she needed to be listened to – she got narcissism.

It might seem that these three vignettes are extreme; but what of less obvious reactivity in the face of the unwanted facts of life? We all have some level of narcissism. Milly’s other friends didn’t say out loud, “How can you do this to me?” No, instead, she told me: “They dropped away. They disappeared.” Without a word of explanation.

Milly was dismayed at the loss. Their reactions were a reflection of a self-absorbed mindset; and it wasn’t what she needed, right then. It would seem that they avoided her because of cancer and death. Sure, they didn’t say, “Why are you doing this to me?!’ but they may as well have. (Several years before, someone very close to me, when dying from cancer, told me: “Cancer tells you who your real friends are.”)

All these instances are on a continuum which reveals narcissism to be terribly normal. By normal, I mean statistically so. A glance at any newspaper, any day of the week, alerts one to the ubiquity of deluded self-centred views – narcissistic read-outs on life – which capture people and lead them to harmful behaviour. Look at our politicians’ grubby self-interest, their blatant fabrications and their grandiosity. The parliament is filled with selfish individuals, who can only read things through their biases.

The Buddhist analysis of this problem says that the problem is much bigger than a small class of ‘crazy’ people: it’s a species problem. A direct, contemplative investigation of ‘mind’ reveals everyday forms of narcissism; and, it has its roots in a lack of direct awareness of our organism. Due to this ignorance, we misperceive the nature of the mind. Hence, we live our normal lives on the basis of delusions about the organism’s reality. We see through filters, through a ‘glass darkly,’ and our relationships suffer concurrently. “How could you love a man who doesn’t love me?!”

Was it mentally ill for Milly’s friends to abandon her? Not conventionally so, of course. It’s merely fear; misshapen perceptions formed their fickleness. But we could ask, why aren’t such fears (with their attendant mental structures) considered, in this society, a form of mental affliction? That’s how the Buddhists see it. These distortions – aversion to a friend who has cancer, for instance – are not intrinsic to the mind. Why aren’t we addressing this at the national level? Well, simply because the delusions are statistically normal.

If a whole community has such delusions, one loses perspective; you find it hard to identify fear as mental concocted. Your perceptions present as real, and your fear and your hatred appear justified. Racism and homophobia are two areas where this analysis is powerful.

What what kind of sickness can it be then, when you are scared of people who have different skin colour, or a significantly different culture? Or, what kind of a sickness is it, when you are afraid of a person who has cancer? The answer that Buddhist is that we are sick with greed, hatred, and ignorance.

Without a culture of mindfulness and compassion, we can imperceptibly slide into mass delusions. Then, destructive attitudes become so widespread that they passes as normal. Nazi Germany is a case in point; and, Trump’s ‘America.’ (Notice, even the name ‘America,’ as a designation for the U.S.A, is a narcissistic insult to all the other nations of the Americas, north and south.)

So, where do we go with such a widespread problem? A significant portion of people throughout the world are currently under the sway of xenophobic afflictions. These attitudes are the stuff of minds – we have to investigate what it means to have good mental health. Why aren’t the policies of far-right’s (such as One Nation, in Australia) being discussed as a matter of our community’s mental health? Is it because we might have to begin at home? It is far harder to look at one’s own mind, than to blame other’s for our dissatisfaction.

I thought Milly was a hero, given the brave way she approached her death. Moreover, she spoke without ill-feeling, when addressing the reactions of others to her disease and impending death. A warrior; and one of my teachers.

Though one conquers in battle
a thousand times a thousand men,
one is the greatest war-hero
who conquers just one’s self.
– Dhammapada, verse 103. Translated by Christopher J. Ash

An Experiment in Consciousness

By admin

On September 3, 2015

In Enquiry, Meditation, Practices

“Only by accepting the imprisonment of my temporal part can all of me, my virtual “being,” escape from this prison.” – Hubert Benoit, Acceptance and Attention, in Parabola Magazine, Vol 15:2 Attention.

There was a moment today, when I invited myself to accept my life just as it is – to show up for my limitations. I wasn’t exactly in a comfortable situation at that time, lying on a table with acupuncture needles in my body, but the instant was the instant, regardless of preferences; and, it did seem as good a moment as any, for meditation.

I summoned the five remembrances, pausing with each of them, feeling into my bodily responses of acceptance or rejection. It seemed reasonably okay for me to acknowledge that I will die, because I am not exempt from death; that I will grow ill (sometime before the moment of my death), because I am not exempt from illness; and, it was fine to acknowledge that I am growing old, and that I’m not exempt from growing old. By this stage of the contemplation, I was naturally feeling in contact with life in the raw.

Then, just before I invited the next contemplation (“There is alteration in, and parting from, what is dear and pleasing”)… briefly I glimpsed a vaguely familiar mental formation. It had a feeling associated with it, but what was more evident was the mental structure of it. It was very similar to another interior glimpse that I have from time to time.

That other one goes like this: I will see a Rolls Royce, and I want to have it in my life. And, because it is a ridiculously impractical longing – out of the question – it’s easy to see that it’s a longing. However, I have noticed that when I reject the longing with a critic’s voice, a vague pattern happens at that moment, and I’ve wondered: “What’s is that pattern (which comes in response to unkind rejection of the longing)?” It has become evident that it is a subtle thought happening, one that leaves a way to keep the longing. And, it has a special quality. I hadn’t resolved exactly what the content of that thought is, until today. It has become clear, though, that the pattern opposes the inner judge.

So, there I am lying on the acupuncture table, today, and that same pattern flashes by, as I am meditating. I recognise it as a simple resistance, a rejection of my process in that moment. But, what is the structure of that? So, I stay with the feel of that. I let it come, this resistance, and I feel into it. And it’s familiar, even if vaguely so. It has something like… “I’m not accepting being up against the wall.” As I stayed a while longer with it, it was clear that it was about being separated from what is pleasing. And, what is pleasing – entertaining the mind, and feeling ‘good’; rather than being with the five remembrances. This part of me is not about to accept the limitation of my condition, that’s for sure. Limitations like: not having the Rolls Royce, in one case; and, acknowledging that there will be separation from the pleasing, in this case. This particular sub-personality pattern gave me a subtle mental doing, so as not to feel trapped with (what it sees as) an unbearable reality. It felt a pleasant relief to see this pattern. I can’t wait for my next Rolls.

And, as I finish this report, I’m reminded of something someone said to me, long ago, that the point of practices like the Five Remembrances isn’t to indoctrinate yourself, to condition yourself, but to drop them into consciousness like experiments, to see what happens.

“…the thought of death is rather a powerful stimulus that brings me back to myself as the unique occasion for the search for the meaning of life…” – Herbert Guenther

Mind-Forg’d Manacles

By admin

On July 9, 2015

In Death, Memoir, Mindfulness, Resisting Death

I had a friend who died of cancer. That’s more than a couple of decades ago, now. She and I used to bristle at one another, before her cancer. Then, when she was dying, I found a friendship that was close, and which had a specialness that is hard to find. The honesty and vulnerability was beautiful. I have been reminded of her, because I was reading a book, this morning, called Integral Healing. There, I read the description of a mother screaming at her daughter, “How could you love a man who doesn’t love me?”

The narcissism is so obvious that it could be a caricature. However, it’s tragically real. Another instance is given by Jeanette Winterson. Jeanette was sixteen, and being evicted for taking up with her second lesbian girlfriend. When Jeanette declared a preference for happiness, her adopted mother’s response was, “Why be happy, when you could be normal?” I laughed at that, when I first heard it. But, “Hey. Wait,” I said to myself. “That actually happened. A person was actually in the state of mind that goes with those words. And, a person who needed love was given that selfishness.” That was serious delusion. Worse, those words were from someone whose role was that of carer.

I was walking with my friend, on a summer day; a quiet, green bushland track. My friend shared with me, that she had let her mother know that she was dying. She told me, with tears, that her mother had responded, “How can you do this to me?” Doubtless, her mother was under the delusion that she spoke from love.

It might seem that these three vignettes have in common only that some people are so narcissistic as to be caught in a kind of illness. Clearly, Winterson’s adoptive mother was unwell, with the kind of mental illness common among religious zealots. However, let’s look more closely. My friend’s other friends… They didn’t say, out loud, “How can you do this to me?” Instead, they disappeared. They abandoned, the person, because they couldn’t handle terminal illness. She made a point of saying how grateful she was for my company. (Someone else, when dying from cancer, said to me, “Cancer tells you who your real friends are.”)

Was it sick for her friends to abandon her? Not conventionally so, but what if living your life according to misshapen perceptions, which lead to selfishness, is a kind of affliction? That’s how the Buddhist teachings see it. A kind of mental aberration. If a whole community has such a mental affliction, you might not notice it. Nazi Germany is a case in point. So, what if our whole species has come to a place in its development, where it needs to get bigger than the thinking it uses for its experience? This happens in children – that they come to developmental points, where they expand, while including the previous levels – so, why not in the species? Then what kind of sickness is it, when you are frightened of a person who has cancer? Might not it be as Vimilakirti said; when he said he was sick with greed, hatred, and ignorance?

What those three vignettes can reveal is that their behaviour illustrates an extreme of something that is terribly normal. By normal, I mean statistically so. Those reactions are extreme, it’s true. But a glance at any newspaper, any day of the week, alerts one to the ubiquity of narcissistic read-outs on life. Look at the politicians’ grubby self-interest, and their patent grandiosity. The parliament is filled with selfish individuals, who can only read things through their biases. I’m saying that the problem is much bigger than a class of crazy people: it’s a species problem.

I remember a university psychology lecturer responding to this claim, when I made it in a paper on suicide. My thesis was that to understand the bulk of suicides, we have to understand the problems that human thought has brought with it. The flip into subject-object perception was a great evolutionary leap, but the role of that kind of thought in unhappiness is poorly understood. (My paper was written before the big explosion in interest in positive psychology, the psychology of happiness, or the so-called mindfulness.) The problem, I was saying, is that thought has exceeded its domain. I argued, then, that humanity has to take another step in its evolution, one in which thought finds its limit and proper domain. From the Buddhist point of view, this means understanding the kind of stress we call ‘dukkha.’

The lecturers response? He thought I was plain wrong. And his reasoning? Architectural and engineering feats; ‘man’ on the moon; conquering polio; and so on. Clearly, he said, there’s nothing wrong with thinking. (I had to remember that this man had university tenure. His security was exactly a reward for the kind of thinking I was critiquing. I see now, that it was naive of me in the extreme to try to question the system, while within it.) Let’s add this as a fourth vignette illustrating narcissism.

He remained silent on “man’s inhumanity to man.” What, I ask, is the point of fantastic buildings, when we are still spawning men who murder by running planes into them. We need workable answers to issues of a moral order, and science can’t do that. I’d like to remind my lecturer that 75% of the world’s scientists are in service of military production. That’s healthy? When scientists are truly in service of humanity, I’ll give up on my theme. But, if we can stop assuming things are Jim-dandy for long enough to look into the roots of human violence in the mind itself, we can see how it works. When a contemplative looks inwardly, she comes up with: narcissism is the cause of human woe. William Blake’s mind-forg’d manacles indicates how we are captured by imbalanced thought. What Blake adds in his poem London is that we are passing the captivity of the narcissistic system on to the next generation.

Narcissism is an imbalance created by thought. There’s no doubt that ‘thought’ is a gift, an evolutionary development. However, the good news is that this means it is still in development. It’s not a finished achievement. Is anything in nature ever finished? Humans are an experiment, which is not yet reached its potential. The buildings and rocket ships are trivial achievements. Love is an achievement. Everyday narcissism is the opposite of love. The good news (whether it’s from Galilee, or Kusinagara) is that, for individuals, everyday narcissism (as distinct from the DSM variety) is changeable; that is, love is a developmental line, along with physical development, language development, musical development, and the others.

We have to learn to think healthily, not just think in the way of the herd. (Hannah Arendt – as well as her morally weak mentor Heidegger – was right about that.) The contemplative approach reveals: at the root of delusion, bias, violence against others, and the kind of craziness in our four vignettes, lies an over-estimation of the place of the thought-created ‘me’ in the big picture called life. Blake uses the image of ‘charts’ – which means maps, and planning; but which also means imposing the grids of unit-model thinking on the creativity that is real lived lives. One’s self-image is such an imposition – whether you are imposing it on others, or on yourself. Each of those daughters was more than the mother’s images could ever capture.

We don’t need a Pentacostal zealot adoptive mother to know that the over-blown ‘me’ stands between ordinary individuals in their relationships. That’s the power of those vignettes: those four weren’t isolated cases. They are you and I.

__________________________________

London BY WILLIAM BLAKE

I wander thro’ each charter’d street,

Near where the charter’d Thames does flow.

And mark in every face I meet

Marks of weakness, marks of woe.

In every cry of every Man,

In every Infants cry of fear,

In every voice: in every ban,

The mind-forg’d manacles I hear

How the Chimney-sweepers cry

Every blackning Church appalls,

And the hapless Soldiers sigh

Runs in blood down Palace walls

But most thro’ midnight streets I hear

How the youthful Harlots curse

Blasts the new-born Infants tear

And blights with plagues the Marriage hearse