3 Non-Spiritual Remedies for the Common Funk.
Everybody slips into a funk from time to time. I’m
talking about an “ignore every call-I don’t wanna meditate, I’m watchin’ Law
& Order and eatin’ ice cream” kinda funk. These bad moods are
to be expected. They’re the mental equivalent of the common cold.
Often times these funks are immune to the
formalities of our spiritual practice. Not because our formal practice is
impotent in the face of a rotten attitude, but because we lack the inspiration
and/or motivation to stop eating Cheetos and get off the couch! Some
pretentious ass “spiritual” friend of yours might suggest, “Why don’t you try
meditating on the couch…you know, like mindful of every chip you eat.” So, let
me rephrase my previous statement: We lack the required inspiration and/or
motivation to do something we don’t want to do.
These bad moods are incredibly rigid, self-centered
states of mind. When we are possessed by one of these shitty attitudes we have
a very definite idea about how things should be, and at the present
moment, things do not even remotely resemble ourexpectations. We get
trapped in our heads, thinking about what we think, until we are so
far removed from reality that we can no longer distinguish between actuality
and figments of our imagination. Insanity begins to dominate, as the entire
field of awareness is reduced to a bitter pattern of thought revolving around
some form of disappointment, which emerged as the result of
a disagreement between reality and an extremely narrow idea we
held about ourselves. In short, when something doesn’t go “our way”
we develop an obsessively resentful form of tunnel vision. This is what I mean
by rigid.
These moods are self-centered in that the value and
worth of everything in our environment is calculated by how it affects us,
which means that everything is measured against the rigid expectations
previously mentioned. From this point of view, life is transformed into an
inconvenient chore; something that we have to get up and go do. We feel
completely cut off from life or lifeless. So we don’t get up and go do it!
We expect to be comfortable. If something
contributes to this comfort we consider it to be “good,” but if it is seen as
an obstacle to our comfort it is labeled “bad.” We cling to those things that
are good, and push away those things that are bad. If we are unable to
successfully hold hostage the good things or fail to keep at bay the bad
things, then we start to pitch a fit or wallow in self-pity. The fit and/or
pity party is what I am calling the common funk.
Fits and pity parties are very logical. They are
calculated insanity. These nasty attitudes are constructed or assembled by
patterns of thought, which come together in a tightly regulated sequence. It
maybe that neither the pre-conceived idea nor the fore-drawn conclusions are
objectively rational, which suggests that the inbred process
that facilitated this movement from point A to point B is
also disproportionate, but all three—the original miscalculation, the
obsessive system of elaboration, and the disastrous conclusions—are, from a
subjective point of view, perfectly logical. So long as the basic assumption
isn’t questioned—our true nature is comfort—everything adds up.
When this subjective experience reaches escape
speed, the situation becomes too dense, and all perspective is lost. This loss
of objectivity is the result of blindness or ignore-ance. With no other reference
point at our disposal, other than the irrational point of reference
that set the cycle in motion, our inconsistencies appear to be consistent.
Crazy people do not know that they’re crazy.
Since, the subjective experience is the only
experience we afford ourselves, that is the only point of view that matters.
Our pissy attitude is all we have to work with, and we cannot wish it
away with detached philosophical rhetoric or lofty spiritual slogans. It
does no good to preach a gospel of sanity to someone trapped behind the walls
of insanity. You have to deconstruct the wall, brick by brick. This is skillful
means.
We all know how irritating it can be to have someone
we love try to correct our crappy disposition by saying, “That doesn’t make
sense.” And please, for God’s sake, never tell me, “It’s an illusion.” When
your girlfriend breaks up with you or you lose your job it sure as hell doesn’t
feel like an illusion. It feels like you have been hit by a truck. Do you hurry
over to the scene of a car accident to remind everyone involved not to worry
their pain is only an illusion? Mental and emotional pain is physical pain.
When examining the common funk, there maybe an
element of confusion or a misunderstanding involved, but it ain’t an illusion—I
feel it, you see it, we’re talking about it—it is there! The only illusion
operable in this scenario is the belief that the situation is solid. The
situation is workable; I am not stuck. This is true, but this workable space
will not be discovered by repeating spiritual affirmations to yourself or by
explaining the discomfort away with technical jargon. It is a methodical
process, much like untying a knot, in that we have to start with the loose
ends.
If you believe that a meditation on impermanence or
tying yourself in a knot while you listen to kirtan is the best way to address
the common funk, then by all means, be my guest. But if you are like me, and
require a more practical, user-friendly, down-to-earth approach I
offer you these three non-spiritual remedies for the common funk.
Laughing
As I have already explained these funks are
extremely logical. They are inbred states of mind where one crappy thought
entertains another crappy thought, until our head is full of shit. We need
something that can break through this pessimistic chain of conceptual events.
Comedy is just the thing.
A comedian is funny for one of two reasons: either,
they reveal an inconsistency in something believed to be consistent, or they
say something completely unexpected and ridiculous. In both cases, the
obsessive pattern of solid thinking is dismantled. When revealing an
inconsistency, the pattern of thought is disrupted by an insight that reveals
the space between thoughts, often referred to as “poking a hole in your
argument.” As a result, the conceptual mind begins to open up and air out. In
the second instance, something unexpected is said, which throws the rational
faculties for a loop. Once again, the mind is opened up to space, as we begin
to entertain a world of possibilities that, up until this point, we had
been ignoring.
Furthermore, comedians are disarming; they are not
trying to fix you. They are trying to make you laugh, which, if they are
successful, has an amazing affect on your mood. A good laugh is enough to cheer
anyone up. A good laugh is the acknowledgment of space, while a claustrophobic
state if mind is nothing more than an ignore-ance of the gap between thoughts.
Don’t like stand-up? Watch a funny movie, or a
light-hearted TV show. I am a sucker for Hugh Grant movies. But, whatever works
for you. Pull a funny book of off the shelf. Invite a funny friend over.
Anything that makes you laugh.
“Against the assault of laughter nothing can stand.” ~Mark Twain
Some of my favorites are: Richard Pryor, Louis C.K., and Dave Chappelle. However,
the past few years I have used the
Daily Show with Jon Stewart and the
Colbert Report when I feel stuck in a rut. (click any of the links
above to be magically transported to material by these hilarious comedians.)
.
Manual
Labor
Cleaning the house has two huge advantages. Having
watched a some stand-up, we feel a little looser. We are by no means out of the
woods, but we are ready to get off the couch. There is still a crappy residue
in our mind—the occasional negative thought, or a demeaning reminder from our
darker half that goes something like, “You’re a worthless idiot.” Had we not
watched the comedy we would be prone to relapsing into this negative pattern.
However, we feel lighter. We no longer feel sorry for ourselves. So, we get up
and begin to clean the mess around us: empty bags of chips, pizza boxes, soda
cans, etc. We straighten up the couch cushions, and put up the blankets we have
been hiding behind.
Having straightened up the pigsty, we feel
better. Cleaner. Our environment is a reflection of our state of mind. When we
slip into one of these funks our living space also slips into a funk. Like our
mind, our living room becomes cluttered and full of trash. So, we can begin to
work with our mind by working with our environment. This is one of the loose
ends we have to work with. We start with the pigsty we have been inhabiting for
the last six hours. Then, we begin to expand our focus to include the whole
house.
“Being tidy and meticulous is the Buddhist message—meticulous in cleaning your oryoki bowls, meticulous in how you walk, meticulous in how you treat your clothing and your household articles. We can’t get away with being sloppy; we have to introduce the principle of tidiness more and more into our lives. When economic chaos or family chaos takes place, apart from obvious issues of economic mismanagement, marital problems, or emotional problems, we find that domestic details have not been taken care of.” ~Chogyam Trungpa
Start with hand washing all the dirty dishes; no
dishwasher. Feel the warm water running over your hands. Then, clean off all
the counters. Next, get out the broom and start sweeping. When you
have finished sweeping, mop the floors. To top it all off, light some
candles or incense; something to invigorate your senses.
Not big on house work? Well, try it any way. No? OK.
Then, try a little yard work. Get out of the house
and start to work in the garden, cut the grass, clean up the yard.
Whatever you do it should be manual work. It is good
to break a sweat. The more involved your body is, the better. We are migrating
from our head, back into our body. This migration is the expansion of
consciousness. Manual labor cultivates the spaciousness discovered by laughing.
If we light some incense or candles our awareness expands even more. We are
moving beyond the restricted realm of consciousness between our ears, and
embracing a much larger spectrum of awareness.
Hot Bath
Having reconnected with a larger dimension of
awareness it is essential to keep going. There are still some residual effects
of the bad mood lurking, and we must be careful not to slip back into that
funk. A hot bath is not only a great way to continue reawakening the senses and
expanding awareness, but it is also the symbolic rite of the entire process.
Run the water. Pour in some bath salts and bubble
bath. Relax. Take a deep breath. Splash your face with some water. Do
not be in a rush. Spend a while just soaking it in the bath. Pour some water
over your head. Feel the nasty attitude falling away. Literally, wash the funk
off.
When you get out, brush your teeth. Clip your nails.
Comb your hair. Begin to recognize that you are a part of the environment,
and be as tidy and meticulous with yourself as you are with your home. When we
realize that we are a dimension of the environment we also discover a deep,
heart-felt gratitude for the human condition. Gratitude, much like
faith, is dead unless it finds expression in our behavior. So cultivate your
gratitude by taking care of yourself.
Most of the time this is enough to pull me out of
any funk. However, there have been times when I needed to go the extra mile. In
such cases, I have added a nice long walk followed by some journaling.
None of the before mentioned remedies are meant to
solve a problem. These non-spiritual remedies are meant to bring us to a place
where we can once again resume our formal practice. So, join these simple
remedies with your regular meditation or yoga practice as soon as you feel up
to it.
It is in our formal practice that we can begin to
investigate the causes and conditions that give rise to our dissatisfaction. It
is also an invitation to redefine our spiritual practice. Perhaps, we
would find that our practice has far more depth and sophistication when we
allow it to be a fully human practice—a practice that isn’t limited by some
ridiculous idea that equates spirituality with comfort. Maybe, just maybe, if
spirituality was bigger, more human, and therefore spacious enough to account
for the range of human experience—the “good” and the “bad”—we would not need to
divide our life up into the spiritual and the worldly.
