Silent, lonely listening

Brilliant green and sunlight morning here in the mountains, not a cloud anywhere in the  great blue dome of sky. The housemate struggling with what has now been diagnosed as cardiomyopathy and I am worried sick about her, my   frequent state these days. But on we go, and in the garden herbs rush up into leafy abundance and the dogs chase their tails on the grass and the sun keeps shining.

 

I keep coming back to this article by Christopher Harding on a 90-year-old Japanese nun  called Jakucho, which means ‘silent, lonely listening’.  It is a story about psychoanalysis and religion,  where the  careful and accurate reasoning mind meets faith and  doubt. And how we help one another in a therapeutic or faith context. The power of kindness, the skills needed for empathy and self-awareness.

 

When people are suffering, when they have some kind of complex, or when they’re lonely, they need someone to notice them, simply to recognise them

 

Something too that Thomas Merton, the Catholic monk and political activist, spoke of as ‘false consciousness’ or ‘false mysticism’ — a corrective that  therapy can offer to the sanctimonious or judgmental.

 

That brings us to what might be the most useful role for psychology in religion. It offers perspective that stands outside religion’s enticing, evocative conceptual networks: it can show us when our talk of humility, surrender and dismantling the ego are really masking, perhaps even facilitating, their polar opposites — despite our best intentions.

 

And of course, those in the sciences and  practice of psychology need in turn their own correctives, some reminder of  mystery in every day life, something to counter  intellectual arrogance and  easy certitude. The journey we’re on together is all about  learning and unlearning each step of the way.

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8 comments to Silent, lonely listening

  1. I can understand your worry about your housemate. I will keep you both in my prayers.

    Having worked in a psychiatric hospital for as long as I did, I worry about hyper-religiosity. But then I worry about all kinds of things, having been exposed as I was to myriad weird pathology.

  2. susan says:

    Learning and unlearning. Old ideas availed us nought. A constant state of fuidity and growth, a constant sloughing of the past for the present. That has been my experience — on a good day. Suffering and release. Suffering and release.

    Im sorry to hear about your housemate.xo

  3. Kitty says:

    “When people are suffering, when they have some kind of complex, or when they’re lonely, they need someone to notice them, simply to recognise them”. I needed this today, because lately I’ve been coming so close to giving up on my friend. I forget how messed up he is, and how much he’s suffering alone, and I get frustrated that he won’t ask for help. I’m ready to walk away at times, when really I don’t have to. All I have to do is stand here and be ready for him to be ready. Until then I can simply live my life, I don’t actually have to WAIT for him.

    • Mary LA says:

      To be receptive Kitty — it sounds easy but it is so hard, to set protective boundaries and yet allow others to know we are there when they are ready, that we have the stability they cannot as yet find.

  4. Syd says:

    I hope that your housemate will be okay. I know how worried I was when my wife had her heart attack. When we love people, vulnerability because of that love is ever present.

    I don’t have much to do with religion. But I do believe in a power greater than me.

    • Mary LA says:

      I feel extremely vulnerable right now Syd and it is hard — faith is a mystery and what is beyond us is perhaps unknowable. I’m so glad your wife came through that scare and recovered.

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