Who Horton Heard

Sentient Beings Are Not Parking Tickets

Whenever I hear “validation” my brain refers to parking garages near shopping centers where people patronize certain businesses, present their parking tab, and get discounted parking fees. Webster says it is “the act of declaring or making something legally or officially acceptable.”

And then we have the second definition that mentions “recognition or affirmation.”

As a life long people-watcher it seems to me that all anyone wants is to be “seen” or “heard”, be acknowledged and recognized as valuable, as having meaning to someone, somehow, somewhere. To not be so alone. Lizard Brain says there is safety in numbers, so we congregate and cling to those who recognize us.

When this country girl put on shoes and went to town the thing that was most upsetting was the lack of connection between people, what I interpreted as rudeness. Cashiers at a gas station did not respond to a simple, “thank you” when I bought something. Sometimes people acted threatened or surprised when I spoke to them at all. I understand the need to “protect my boundaries” and “save my energy” but the strong sense of isolation and separation was physically and emotionally painful. Intellectually I knew it as a result of overcrowding and competition for resources, but emotionally I felt very unwelcome and marginalized. It was a case of clashing cultures and misinterpretation. Eye contact was rare and brief. I felt invisible, unseen, unheard, as if I did not exist.

In the children’s book by Dr. Seuss, “Horton Hears A Who”, Horton, the elephant, champions a society of tiny beings living on a speck of dust who are in danger of being destroyed. At one point in Whoville all of the citizens are making as much noise as possible, yelling “We are here! We are here! We are here!” to prove that they are real.

Guan Yin in the East, Mother Mary in the West; however you want to imagine the one who hears the cries of the world; I wonder if that is how we sound to them. Instead of “we”, it’s more likely “I am here! I am here! I am here!” That’s the voice of suffering, of isolation and longing, of the need to connect and not be alone. As an extrovert I thrive on connection and interactions. Where I may want a dozen hugs, some may not want to be touched at all, yet the need for validation is still present.

I suspect the Dharma works through personalities to point us in the directions we need to go to grow. Have you ever met someone and your first eye contact felt as if you had been punched in the gut? I see that as a signal that this entity is an important person to me, even if it is just brief eye contact with a stranger in a passing vehicle. Eyes meet. Click! (or oooff!) Message received. Time will tell whether or not you will encounter each other again and there are no guarantees that it will be pleasant.

Good teachers have the ability to see though a person’s defenses and masks. I have known people who have met spiritual teachers and who said it felt as if a cold wind blew through the room. Others have said that it was more intense than falling in love.

The “zap”, the “buzz”, the “punch in the gut” or the “kick in the pants” feeling is the effect of acknowledgment and validation. Circumstances don’t always allow follow-through and sometimes the “seer” doesn’t realize what they are doing. It’s the ones that do that can be dangerous.

Charismatic personalities overly endowed with narcissism often take advantage of those who misinterpret that flash of recognition. There is an immediate release of dopamine when the visceral connection happens and it’s human instinct to pursue experiences that reproduce the sensation. It isn’t always spiritual when the neurochemicals kick in, but that’s the impetus to keep moving forward. Spiritual happens later, when the initial flush of lust wears off and the work begins. Do they see you? or do they see their reflections? What are you looking at?

“Acting out”, “Drama Queens”, “Attention whores”, and so forth are those who are in desperate need of validation and reassurance. For whatever reasons, they don’t feel “seen” or “ heard” and they are damn well gonna make sure that someone notices them. They are like those who have been thrown into the deep end of the pool without knowing how to swim, flailing around and grasping at anything nearby. They are screaming for help but may not recognize it when it shows up because they are so wrapped up in the drama of their situation.

It is possible that they have become dopamine junkies, seeking the next jolt while confusion runs rampant. As annoying as it is, such behavior tells me that person is suffering a great deal, even if they are not aware of it. They can be so attached to their pain that they know no other ways to behave. Their need for validation is so externally focused and unanchored that they cannot perceive any other way of relating to the world. If they did, they might have to change. And change can be frightening.

We walk carefully through the firepits of their suffering, offering compassion as well as discipline with the hope that they find their way through it. Their suffering is our suffering.

When we encounter such a person, we can’t “fix” or “heal” them but we can acknowledge them. Instead of rejecting them, we are called to simply “see” them, to “hear” them, to let them know that they exist and that they are valued. They are not apart from us. They are us. They may lack the civilized veneer we work so hard to maintain, but their loneliness and isolation, their fear, and their anger is the same as ours. Sometimes I think they are the brave ones, to be so open and vulnerable, and to give our inner demons back to us.

There is comfort in feeling seen, but it is disturbing because it requires the formerly invisible one to see their self in other beings. Unacknowledged pain may be brought into the open. The Zen perspective is that there is no separation between us and the annoying person. We are the annoying people. We are flailing around in the deep end of the pool alongside those that upset us.

I am not saying that we have to offer the hurting ones sentimentality and succor. Sometimes the most helpful response may seem harsh, but the poker-faced “above-it- all-because-I-am-so-enlightened” attitude can create more problems. Suffering cannot be stonewalled or ignored. We are going to scream and thrash around until someone acknowledges us. Let’s not increase the pain by ignoring it or turning it into a battle over controlling the encounter.

There is a fine line between validation and enabling. Our identification with the pain t can be confusing. Creating solutions is another avoidance maneuver. Our solid, non-judgmental presence is the best we can offer.

Suffering and over-the-top behavior drove me to the cushion in the first place. I cringe when I think of how I have behaved in the past and the potential to do it again, That’s how many people start practice, but kindness, compassion, and honesty from the sangha have kept me there.

I am forever grateful for the forbearance and wisdom of formal teachers. Macho Zen may have worked for the old timers in societies where it was part of physical warrior training, but it’s not helpful in many contemporary situations. Zen practice is tough enough as it is. Let’s not deliberately increase suffering to serve our own egos. There are gallows humor jokes about not suffering enough to be so-and-so’s student and old stories told of students who cut off their fingers and arms to answer koans. Teachers talk of helping students “untie knots” and I hope some of the stories I hear are not literal.

I wonder if it’s Karma or Dharma or both that, as individual cells in a greater whole we are given different functions. My focus is on interconnection and creating community, encouraging interdependence. It’s a theme that has characterized my life so far. Maybe others have other “jobs” to do in this incarnation. There are multiple explanations and systems to describe the indescribable, but first we have to learn to see, to get our noses out of our own navels and say to the living things around us, “Yes, you are there. I see you. You matter.” For some people, it may be the first time thy have ever heard those words.

In rereading this, I realize that “suffering” is presented in my references as an amorphous blob sitting somewhere “out there” as if it is not intrinsic to who we are, as if it is a “thing” to be conquered or eliminated. I wonder how we would grow and change without it. What would motivate us? If we suffer because we want things to be different from what they are, who would we be and how would we survive? Take it further and ask yourself who is suffering and why?

Here are 2 of my favorite stories concerning suffering:

#1 The Tale of the Man in a Flood (a hillbilly folk tale)

We had heavy rains, daily thunderstorms, river banks overflowing. Old Man sat on his porch watching the water rise. A rowboat full of people came by, “Get in, get in!” The called, “We will take you to safety!”

“No, thank you!” He called back. “My God is going to save me!”

The rising waters drove him to sit on the porch roof. Another boat came by, “Get in! Get in! We can save you!”

“No, thank you! My God is going to save me!” Old Man refused to move.

The waters kept rising. Old Man sat on top of his chimney with the waters at his chin. A helicopter flew over. “Catch the rope!” The people in the helicopter called, throwing a rope to him. “We can save you!”

“No, thank you!” He gurgled, “My God is going to save me.”

Old Man drowned and went to his Heaven where he came before his God to review his life. “Why didn’t you save me?” he asked. “Why did you let me drown?”

“You damn fool,” his God replied, “I sent you 2 boats and a helicopter!”

#2 A piece of a page from Healing Into Life And Death, by Stephen Levine. An offering from my first teacher. I have carried this scrap of paper with me for years.

There is a quote in the Sufi tradition which says that: Overcome any bitterness that may have come because you were not up to the magnitude of pain that was entrusted to you. Like the mother of the world who carries the pain of the world in her heart, each of us is part of her heart and is, therefore, endowed with a certain measure of cosmic pain. You are sharing in the totality of that pain. You are called upon to meet it in joy instead of self-pity,

The secret: offer your heart as a vehicle to transform cosmic suffering into joy.

Bowing.