I proposed the other day of defining “morality” as those habits and behaviors and thoughts that tend in aggregate to lead to more peace, joy, compassion and love.
I ranked them in my mind, thusly: peace leads to joy, joy to compassion, and compassion to love.
This morning, though, I am wondering if compassion might not be the first. This is such a cliche, and compassion such an overused word that I hate to propose it, being a contrarian by nature–often with good reason, I might note–but consider the following.
As I would view it, the main impediment to the human creative capacity, which is our greatest treasure, is stagnation. Stagnation is separation from flow, from the flow of the universe, and from the flowing water of human society, of connection, of interaction, of giving and taking and taking and giving, of talking and touching, laughing and crying–all movements, all flow.
Stagnation is traumatic clinging, to a latent need to hide emotionally, to limit the expression of your unique nature, which results in a felt need for conflict, for fear and hiding, and for shame.
Love heals shame. Directed inwardly, love is the reduction and elimination of continual self loathing. And compassion is perhaps the THOUGHT that underlies the eventual FEELING of love. Where love is the flow, compassion is the form which molds and directs the flow.
Self love, then, is nothing more or less than dispelling a sense of shame which has no root, which does not come from anything you have done or could do. Or perhaps you DID do something shameful. Love is what helps you heal that, and return to humanity.
With respect to both myself and others, I think when I see some fucked up behavior, I am going to start asking, first, what positive purpose that behavior plays for that person. They do it for a reason. Some part of them sees that as the least painful thing for them to do.
I know a lot of what I call “Bar People”. They are a type, particularly around here. And most of them–look at that, I really need to say US–have messed up things we do. I am going to start asking, first, what positive role that behavior plays.
I am thinking in particular of a woman I know–actually two come to mind now that I think about it–who I think is sexually addicted. Can or should I say “suffers from”?
I’ve said this before, but you do people a great disservice sometimes taking their lies from them, particularly if they didn’t ask for “help”. Being a somewhat relentless and even obsessive truth teller, I have often found it hard to remain silent. But that doesn’t mean I am feeling compassion, or truly working for what is best for that person. Often I think I am a self important prick, or at least that case could be made. I just want people to know I am perceptive, without being in the least bit kind. I’ve commented on this before.
And I will note in this regard that there is nothing wrong, necessarily, with being ruthlessly honest with myself. I know myself, and I can take it, and benefit from it. That is not true of everyone.
So for me, it may be useful feeling absolutely sure that something positive accrues to people from even the most self abusive behaviors. All truly fucked up behavior means is that something truly dark and awful is underneath it, that they are hiding from. There are terrible monsters haunting them, and those behaviors keep the monsters at bay, for the time being.
The record of what people do to each other is sick, and really really difficult for psychologically healthy and happy people to really grasp, particularly if they haven’t heard these sorts of stories first hand.
One of these women I know she was born to a crack addicted mother when the mother was sixteen. She was in a relationship with a heroin abuser–someone who used heroin because of the benefits it provided for them to at least some extent in staying alive–for some years, despite not using herself. She may well have been sexually abused, but we never got to talking about that.
The other I know she was sexually abused when was somewhere around 5-7, and reported it, and the man went to jail. Then it started again with her stepfather when she was 11-13 or so, and she did not report that, since she didn’t want to break up the “home”. She said she didn’t really realize there was anything wrong with it until she hit puberty, and I guess realized she could get pregnant.
We call sex abuse “abuse”, but it is often voluntary, and it often feels good. Sex feels good. But when you have such a large gap in ages, I think it leaves a psychological hole of sorts. It makes boundary formation difficult. It makes it hard to differentiate healthy from pathological, nurturing from destructive.
And I think often the less healthy it is–the more you are being used as a sexual object–the more FAMILIAR it feels, and thus even what to a normal person would feel gross and objectionable comes to be calming and reassuring. And the more the contradiction stings, the more you feel compelled to continue and deepen the behavior. I feel that.
We all keep it together in many ways, but in my personal view human social life would be utterly impossible without the capacity for self deception. A truly better society would not need lies, but the one we live in certainly does. Lies are shelter, comfort, a warm place far from the wind, and I think decent people should keep that in mind.
Christ said “I come not to bring peace, but a sword”, but he did not mean that for all people, all the time, I don’t think. Some people need blunt truth, and some people just need a hug and a kind ear, both of which you can offer, and then watch them wander off into a night you know will not be kind to them. Do what you can do, and leave it. Most of the problems you see in your life will remain unsolved, at least by you. If you focus on solving your own problems, though, you become the pattern of a doorway through which people can escape. That is the best thing you can offer anyone.