Just Saying "No"
Jun. 17th, 2004 09:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tcepsaFirst, a little background. Just in case I get amnesia or something. I'm practicing a type of pseudo-yoga known as Dahnhak. Back when I started, in September of last year, I though it was the greatest thing since Conversations With God. The one thing that bothered me a little was that they were relatively pushy when it came to getting money from people. They never did it directly, but they were always very insistant that it was critical to the growth of my soul that I attend all the workshops and everything. The workshops were, in all fairness, pretty good. I got some good experience from them, and I've made some great friends. I even went so far as to think, for awhile, that I could--and wanted to--be a master and work with them. I agreed with their ideals, that it is important to heal the world and I wanted to help spread their message of peace.
However, at the same time, even while striving towards this goal of becoming a master by volunteering many hours at the center in addition to working my regular 40+ hours/week job, I realized that I was unsatisfied. I had a feeling that, despite all the lofty promises made by the masters about what I would do, I really wanted to be doing something else with my life. I've had dreams since I can remember of making video games and inventing machines and writing stories, and there seems to be precious little time for that in the life of a Dahn master. But I also really wanted to grow and complete my soul, and they assured me that this was the fastest--and really, when you read between the lines, only--way to do that. They also promised that it was just a phase I was going through, part of my negative energy fighting being removed, and that I would be better once I had cleansed my energy more. So there I was, trying to find satisfaction in striving for a goal that I know to be noble, and finding little more than frustration at never having time to do things I wanted to do because I had to do all these other things to help save the world.
Then I found a little book on Zen titled There is Nothing Wrong With You. This entry isn't so much about that, though. Perhaps I'll write another sometime about it. For now, though, I'll just say that it gave me the shift in perspective necessary to get myself out of that internal struggle between what my heart felt to be true (that I could do what I wanted without such dreadful ramifications as the shriveling of my soul) and what my egocentricity kept saying (that I should keep trying, that I had to prove that I had what it took to be a master, that I wanted to be recognized as being one of the people who helped save the world). Since then ("then" being the beginning of March) I've been working on going to Dahn class less and listening to myself and what I really want more.
Which brings us to the present!
Last Tuesday the headmaster at my center asked me to teach class next Saturday. I said no, but she was pretty adamant that I needed the practice in helping others (she seems to be having trouble with the idea that I don't want to be a master any more, and that I'm perfectly content to develop such abilities at my own pace). She pressed me about it a few more times, and each time was more difficult for me to fend off, and more irritating as well. I was wondering about why that was, and I think I've figured out some of it. It's twofold: first, I've got very strong conditioning that when someone asks me to do something, I should do it--and "I just don't want to because I'd rather play with my computer" is not, to that conditioning, a valid reason not to. Second, because she wants to know why not, and if I tell her that I just don't want to because I'd rather play with my computer, she'll come back and tell me that I need to teach class to help my growth and advancement. In other words, she'll threaten me with the implication that if I don't teach class, I won't be able to grow or advance. Another way of putting it is that I am broken and need fixing, or that I'm imperfect and need perfecting--by teaching this class. Bottom line: Manipulation through fear, that gut level fear that nearly every person has. The one that whispers to them in the dark of night that they will never measure up. The one that snickers when they trip going up the stairs. The one that caresses them with cold fingers of despair and futility as they sit in traffic during their two hour commute home after a day of working for a boss who only seems to care about his bonus. The one that sings a lament of loneliness as they see their significant other talking with someone that, the voice tells them, is better than they are. The one that murmurs to them, at the pinnacle of their greatest moment of joy, that it will not last. Yes, I have that fear, and I'm getting to know it quite well. I am even starting to take back some of the power that I had given to it. Whether my Dahn master knows that that's what she is playing off of or not, the fact that she is only serves to make me further disinclined to acquiesce to her request.
When I originally started writing this I didn't know what decision I was going to make; whether I would just say no, or whether I would try to come up with alternative plans so I would have an excuse not to. Now, though, I think I will just say no, face up to that fear, and see what she has to say about that. Because, you know what, I really would rather play with my computer than let her manipulate me.
In closing, I leave you with a poem by Shel Silverstein that basically sums up my current understanding of their approach to obtaining world peace:
We can be the best of friends
There's really nothing to it.
I'll just tell you what to do
And you just have to do it!
Best wishes!
However, at the same time, even while striving towards this goal of becoming a master by volunteering many hours at the center in addition to working my regular 40+ hours/week job, I realized that I was unsatisfied. I had a feeling that, despite all the lofty promises made by the masters about what I would do, I really wanted to be doing something else with my life. I've had dreams since I can remember of making video games and inventing machines and writing stories, and there seems to be precious little time for that in the life of a Dahn master. But I also really wanted to grow and complete my soul, and they assured me that this was the fastest--and really, when you read between the lines, only--way to do that. They also promised that it was just a phase I was going through, part of my negative energy fighting being removed, and that I would be better once I had cleansed my energy more. So there I was, trying to find satisfaction in striving for a goal that I know to be noble, and finding little more than frustration at never having time to do things I wanted to do because I had to do all these other things to help save the world.
Then I found a little book on Zen titled There is Nothing Wrong With You. This entry isn't so much about that, though. Perhaps I'll write another sometime about it. For now, though, I'll just say that it gave me the shift in perspective necessary to get myself out of that internal struggle between what my heart felt to be true (that I could do what I wanted without such dreadful ramifications as the shriveling of my soul) and what my egocentricity kept saying (that I should keep trying, that I had to prove that I had what it took to be a master, that I wanted to be recognized as being one of the people who helped save the world). Since then ("then" being the beginning of March) I've been working on going to Dahn class less and listening to myself and what I really want more.
Which brings us to the present!
Last Tuesday the headmaster at my center asked me to teach class next Saturday. I said no, but she was pretty adamant that I needed the practice in helping others (she seems to be having trouble with the idea that I don't want to be a master any more, and that I'm perfectly content to develop such abilities at my own pace). She pressed me about it a few more times, and each time was more difficult for me to fend off, and more irritating as well. I was wondering about why that was, and I think I've figured out some of it. It's twofold: first, I've got very strong conditioning that when someone asks me to do something, I should do it--and "I just don't want to because I'd rather play with my computer" is not, to that conditioning, a valid reason not to. Second, because she wants to know why not, and if I tell her that I just don't want to because I'd rather play with my computer, she'll come back and tell me that I need to teach class to help my growth and advancement. In other words, she'll threaten me with the implication that if I don't teach class, I won't be able to grow or advance. Another way of putting it is that I am broken and need fixing, or that I'm imperfect and need perfecting--by teaching this class. Bottom line: Manipulation through fear, that gut level fear that nearly every person has. The one that whispers to them in the dark of night that they will never measure up. The one that snickers when they trip going up the stairs. The one that caresses them with cold fingers of despair and futility as they sit in traffic during their two hour commute home after a day of working for a boss who only seems to care about his bonus. The one that sings a lament of loneliness as they see their significant other talking with someone that, the voice tells them, is better than they are. The one that murmurs to them, at the pinnacle of their greatest moment of joy, that it will not last. Yes, I have that fear, and I'm getting to know it quite well. I am even starting to take back some of the power that I had given to it. Whether my Dahn master knows that that's what she is playing off of or not, the fact that she is only serves to make me further disinclined to acquiesce to her request.
When I originally started writing this I didn't know what decision I was going to make; whether I would just say no, or whether I would try to come up with alternative plans so I would have an excuse not to. Now, though, I think I will just say no, face up to that fear, and see what she has to say about that. Because, you know what, I really would rather play with my computer than let her manipulate me.
In closing, I leave you with a poem by Shel Silverstein that basically sums up my current understanding of their approach to obtaining world peace:
We can be the best of friends
There's really nothing to it.
I'll just tell you what to do
And you just have to do it!
Best wishes!
