A beautiful book by Dr. Mark Epstein keeps re-igniting my enthusiasm and admiration. The book is "The Trauma of Everyday Life." It is not the first book by this American psychiatrist who is a knowledgeable teacher of Buddhist principles applicable to modern American life. His first book was "Going to Pieces Without Falling Apart", a book that tries to emphasize the possibility of staying open to all experience throughout life, even while knowing that there will be bumps, horrors, ugliness and pain at spots along the way. There is a temptation for people to armor themselves tightly and protectively in an attempt to be ready for life's negatives but in so doing, it is possible to wall oneself off from joy, love and fun.
This "Trauma" book works along similar but heavier lines. Everyday life, lived responsibly and with luck, still contains hard hits here and there. Epstein explains that a natural tool people use to bear heavy traumatic shocks is dissociation. Pay no attention, and don't think about it or mention it and maybe it will go away. Such a strategy works in the short run but eventually the mind or the body or the spirit strives to regain full living. If the traumatic experience can be finally faced and accepted for what it was and is, a great loosening, a relaxing is experienced.
Here is an excerpt from a part of the book where Epstein asked everyone to turn their cellphones on to practice simply listening to the signals of incoming messages as they occurred:
After the meditation there was time for questions . The third or fourth person to raise a hand was a young Hispanic woman who seemed reluctant to speak, even as she waited her turn. But when she began, she captured everyone's attention. "My father died several months ago ," she began. Her voice quavered but grew stronger as she continued. "He was sick for about a year before he died. I helped to take care of him— I had a special ring in my phone for him so I would know when he was calling me. But since he died, I haven't been able to look at certain things that remind me of him, or listen to things, like his voice on the answering machine. I put his ringtone away; I would never use it for anyone else, and I couldn't bear to hear it anymore. But in this group, someone else had the same tone, the one I had saved for my father. And when it went off while we were sitting, it was like my father calling to me again— it brought him back. I felt so lucky to be hearing it now, for the first time after his death, in this room, with all of you. I was afraid to face it, but I felt as if everyone was supporting me while I listened. I was scared of what I would feel, but it was good."
Epstein, Mark (2013-08-15). The Trauma of Everyday Life (p. 82). Penguin Group US. Kindle Edition.
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Bill
Main blog: Fear, Fun and Filoz
Main web site: Kirbyvariety
