You Were A Jerk

We can only make ourselves better.  Regardless of how we have been conditioned to think, we know right from wrong.  It's innate and it speaks loudly.  If we want to hear it we will.  If we want to ignore it we'll ignore it.  The official psychological term for this is the "Don't Be An Asshole Today Effect."  I didn't need to come to Alcoholics Anonymous and work The Steps and start a daily meditation practice to understand the difference between good behavior, kind behavior and being a jerk.  For many years I would occasionally turn to SuperK when I suspected I had just acted poorly - or not as good as I could have - and inquire after my behavior.  "You were a jerk" she would say from time to time.  If I tried to defend myself or ask her to expound on why or how I had been a jerk she'd reply: "You know what a jerk is."  This wasn't delivered unkindly or harshly but rather matter of factly.  The reason I was asking was that I knew I hadn't behaved well.

More meditation musings . . .  One of the toughest lessons I had to learn vis-a-vis meditation was how to deal with unpleasant thoughts and emotions.  I preferred to try to "think of something good" so I was missing the whole point of meditation.  Negative thoughts can be some of the most profitable experiences a meditator can face if only we can work through them.  When things are going my way I don't learn shit - I order something from Amazon or drink another cup of coffee.  When my back is against the wall I grow.  I needed (and still need) to observe them calmly and clearly.  I need to look at them mindfully.  After a while they lose their hold on me.  This is a kind of self-discipline I was unfamiliar with.  This is self-discipline that allows me to see through all of the hollow shouting of my own impulses and learn that they have no power over me.  It's all a show, a deception.  My impulses scream and bluster at me, they cajole, they coax, they threaten, but in reality they have no power at all.  If I try to suppress a negative emotion then it gets bigger and badder and more powerful.  I have tried to learn the lesson of just watching this stuff as it comes up - restlessness, anxiety, impatience, pain - and not letting myself get involved.

It brings to mind the phenomenon of listening irritably to a crying baby on a plane when I'm trying to get some sleep.  The best technique I've found is to actively listen to the squalling.  After a while my mind becomes acclimated to the noise; it gets bored and I doze off.  Conversely, when I try to actively ignore the noise I listen to the ebb and flow, the rising and falling of the racket, the tone and timber and pace, and the pauses.  The pauses are the worst.  That's when I sit there and try to anticipate the next shriek.