Sitting at The River of God

In my last post, I mentioned Michael Singer's book The Untethered Soul -- how good he is at bringing Eastern ideas of meditation or mindfulness to our Western minds.  In the first two chapters of the book, Singer patiently explains how there is a constant stream of noise going on in our mind. In fact in the second chapter he, to my amusement, refers to "the roommate" - the voice that is always talking to us.  He invites us to really observe that voice by imagining it as a roommate who sits on a coach, and to listen to what is it saying to you?  I have previously been taught by meditation instructors to watch my thoughts, to label them "thought" and return to breathing. This frankly seemed like an endless, pointless, and not very useful process of noticing that as I am still breathing and thus also still thinking. But Singer engaged my curiosity about noticing "but what am I thinking?"

As a therapist I am aware from the different avenue of Internal Family Systems Theory (a modality which I practice) that we all have "parts" within us: a very effective project manager, a wounded child part, a nurturing parent part, etc, etc, and that these parts are not always in accord. (Yes this is not the same as someone having the diagnosis of multiple personality disorder.)  In fact the most common reason why my clients can get stuck is two parts inside them are at war, literally, with each other.  Singer invites us when we are upset to notice "who is upset?"  (He would argue that none of our parts are our true self.  IFS would argue that all of our parts are our true self, but that we function best when the parts work in concert rather than randomly and independently).  IFS would suggest that when we can notice which part is upset that we need to step into an observing part and learn to speak for a part, not from it.   An example of this would be the difference between speaking from a hurt child part and saying to a spouse:  "I hate you" vs speaking for that hurt child and saying "When you ignore me I feel hurt and unloved, and it makes me angry with you."

Interestingly, Singer also suggests we go into an observing part, and that from that place we can release being in the drama of that part.  Singer says: 

"The process of seeing something requires a subject-object relationship.  The subject is called "the Witness" because it is the one who sees what's happening.  The object is what you are seeing, in this case the inner disturbance.  The act of maintaining objective awareness of the inner problem is always better than losing yourself in the outer situation.   This is the essential difference between a spiritually minded person and a worldly person."

His reference to the spiritually minded person and the worldly person is interesting to me in how often Christianity makes the distinction between God's kingdom and worldly kingdoms - or the powers and principalities.

He goes on to say:  "There's a separation between you and the anger or the jealousy (or substitute any emotion here.)  You are the one who's in there noticing these things.  Once you take the seat of consciousness, you can get rid of these personal disturbances.  You start by watching."

As my friend, Scott Gaul, has mentioned this seat of the consciousness or this witness, is not just a place in the brain, it is actually the place of our soul.   Think of that: your soul is observing your life.  Sometimes very passively without you having any real awareness of it, and sometimes like in meditation very distinctly so.

I have written elsewhere about my own experience of what I call "the river of God".   This for me is an experience of going out to a wide lens shot, of sitting on the river bank of humanity, and looking at the teeming masses, the abundance of nature, the dramas of human life: birth, coming of age, marriage, illness, striving, conflict, love, and death as God views it.  Being quite and observing it all.  Not from judgment, not from intervention, but as witness to the eternal aspects of life itself.   From this vantage point I can let go of my own knot of emotion, my own 'caughtness' in the dramas of this hour, this day or this year.  Things drop into perspective - they may still be "issues", but no longer ones that grip me by the throat.  For in fact with a wide enough lens we realize that all issues are temporary - even those which are life and death - are life and death of this one life time.  When I can remember to do it (and that is the catch to all mindfulness) it is a reliable way for me to enter into my observer part, or to my soul sitting in the lap of the divine to watch life itself unfold.

Knowing how profound and how comforting that experience of being in the witness position is, has brought me full circle from the part of me fairly disinterested in the encouragements to watch my thoughts and label them "thought" to an appreciation of the power and groundedness of stepping out of my thoughts and emotions, to observing them.