by David Kundtz
Imagine having an important insight about yourself: maybe a new way of seeing that you are more seriously dedicated to serving the needs of people than you previously realized or that you are more deeply passionate about learning the cello than even you suspected. Now imagine not knowing what to do with these insights that are the spiritual gifts of Stopping. With a spiritual practice in place, you can go to your readings, your prayers, your sacraments, your trusted guide, your service work, your music, or whatever makes up your practice and use it as a way to process the gifts and, therefore, as a way that leads you to integration. Thus the gifts of Stopping are not lost or missed, but developed and enjoyed.
With Stopping, I want especially to access your deeply felt desires to feel less stress, to make better decisions, to be a better parent, friend, and co-worker, to feel more organized and efficient, and especially to experience joy. No, that's not quite right. What I really want is to lead you to access those same desires of your heart. I want you to access the desires that are too often blocked and frustrated by poverty—of pocketbook and spirit—by fear, or, even, by the churches and institutions that should be the very connectors.
I believe all deep and yearning desire is in some way a wish for integration and unity with the world and, ultimately, with God or however you define the divine reality for yourself. From elegant corporate boardrooms to raucous and mean streets, there is not much difference in the aching desires in the hearts of people. Even the addictive covers of these desires are similar— money, power, cocaine, alcohol, crime, violence, apathy, and boredom—although the styles are often different. Beneath these painful expressions is a hidden, noble, indeed a divine, yearning.
Stopping is designed to connect you to your heart's desire and to help you identify it, name it, pursue it, and realize it. It does this by giving you the opportunity to be quiet enough, often enough, to hear your own wisdom. In fact, it isn't really the Stopping that will do it; it is you. Stopping can help you get to the point where you recognize your own wonders.
There's no guarantee, but this is the best chance we've got.
III
The Gifts of Stopping
I lean and loafe at my ease . . .observing a spear of summer grass.
WALT WHITMAN, Leaves of Grass
25
Stopping's Benefits
Stopping is a rich and multifaceted experience, somewhat like having lived in a wonderful old mansion for many years and then one day discovering a whole new wing with new rooms full of wonderful things. We are that big, old house, and we have some wonderful rooms waiting for discovery and exploration.
The Stopped person enjoys many different benefits, best described as the gifts of Stopping. Like the rooms in the mansion, they've always been there, but we've been too busy to explore them. Fully discovering the beneficial gifts of Stopping is something like walking through the newly discovered wing, opening each of the doors, and spending some time in the rooms.
I have tried to choose the most important of Stopping's gifts or traits to look at, the benefits that get most closely to its heart. Surely there are more; every Stopping experience will be proof of that. But these seven seem to be essential:
Capacity for paying Attention; achieving true Relaxation; knowing and enjoying Solitude; Openness to what is, as it is; forming strong but flexible Boundaries; embracing your Shadow; and identifying and living out your Purpose.
These are the gifts that Stopping offers those who embrace it. They are gifts that are sometimes discovered for the first time, are more often rediscovered after being lost or misplaced, and are most often already present and in need of appreciation. Stopping develops and encourages these gifts into new levels of excellence and enjoyment.
Let's look at each gift—one by one—along with some suggestions for how to encourage them.
Someone sold us out—but onlywhen we ceased to pay attention.
TIMOTHY FINDLEY, The Telling of Lies
26
The Gift of Attention
Being awake and remembering is the gift of paying attention. With this gift, we are encouraged to notice what is within us, what is important to us, and what is attractive to us. As Stillpoints are the heart and soul of the expressions of Stopping, so paying attention is the heart and soul of the gifts of Stopping: it forms its very soul and nothing gets more directly to its heart. It is the trait that defines the Stopped person as aware of what is going on right now and remembering all that's important and meaningful to him or her. Attentiveness is similar to the concept of mindfulness that is so important in the Eastern spiritual traditions.
Distractions are the archenemy of attention. Many of us are so busy, so overwhelmed, and thus so spiritually asleep that life can consist of mindlessly moving from one distraction to another: get up, eat breakfast, rush to work, work all day, go home, eat, watch TV, and go to bed. In such a day, you can never once be really awake or know and feel why you are doing this routine over and over or even if you really want to do it. Or maybe your whole day is spent focused on others: your kids, spouse, customers, clients, or boss. Time for yourself is squeezed in, hardly remembered, and haphazard. Losing track of time and date is a sign of distractedness.
In such a state we are simply moved by whatever happens to be loudest or most demanding at the moment. Not that our pursuits are without importance or value, but if we are not present to them or aware of what we are doing or why we are doing them, at least to a degree, then we are distracted.
By distraction, I also mean anything that takes your mind- or soul-attention, off what it wants to be on. Distractions are often trivial and demand your attention as if they were important or meaningful. This causes you to put last things first or the cart before the horse. Literally, you're off track, you're dis-tracked.
Anything that tells a lie about itself in order to get your attention is also a distraction. Some advertising is a great example of distraction. The ad says, “this is important, this is true,” and it often makes these statements about precisely what is not important and not true. It often lies and perhaps even more amazingly, it insults us, assuming that we are not aware that it is lying. We have grown accustomed to it, which makes it even more powerful. Listen to these: “Make a more wonderful you” by using this soap, “Be at the top” by buying this car, and “Life is worth” this brand of crystal. As if soap could make you more wonderful or driving any kind of car would put you on the top of anything worthwhile. And if life is worth a particular kind of crystal, then life is also worth smashing it to bits. If we are attentive, we have knowledge of our wonders, of what we want to be on top of, and of what is worthy in life. If we are not attentive, we could have the tragic fate of being guided through life by the advertisers of Madison Avenue.
Just yesterday I heard on the radio that wearing a particular brand of eyeglasses “will tell the world who you are.” “No, it won't!” I answered the lying ad out loud. “But Stopping can!”
Dis-tracked, we pay attention to what is not life-giving, helpful, healthy, enjoyable, nor important, while we hope whatever we are focused on will be all those things for us. Distracted, we miss the important moments. They pass us by and we don't even notice: a phone call from an old friend, a momentary view of the rising full moon through the dark trees, a remark or a question from a child, or the light and color of an autumn evening— all missed, untapped, unused, and lost. Nor do we even notice that we did not notice.
It is difficult to categorize distractions because almost anything can become a distraction and almost anything can be made noble. It has to do with being awake. An attentive person can say to a distraction, “You are a lie and I give you no importance and no influence in my life.” The key question is always, “What is really going on here? What is the truth of this situation?”
Picture a person who goes from a sterile marriage to boring work, goes back home to an evening of stultifying television, and starts all over again the next day. A sad existence. However, a person wit
h a different attitude who is married, who works, and who watches television can have a life that is richly meaningful. We must tell ourselves constantly: “Wake Up! Pay attention! What is really going on here?”
Stopping allows us to pay the necessary attention in order to prioritize life. In this way, Stopping is like the death of a friend. It leads us to value and appreciate every moment of our own existence as priceless and irreplaceable. We can ask the long questions and the big questions: “Am I doing what I really want to do?”
That was my challenge several years ago when my friend Bill died of AIDS. I have been filled with so many feelings from the moment he told me of his illness to the moment I am writing this: anger (yes, I was mad at him for getting sick); love; empathy; appreciation for his good example, expressed friendship, and engaging sense of humor; frustration at not being able to do anything; and so many more feelings.
But what ultimately came out of my experience with Bill was the determination to be attentive to my life. His death reminded me in a very intimate way that life is short, often difficult, unpredictable, of limitless value, and has parts of it that are important to me and others that are not. So I should get it all in order right now. Tomorrow? Who can count on that?
Forgetting follows directly from distraction. We forget where we came from, how we came from there, where we are going, and why we are going there. We forget our values and the ancient rituals that ground us and tell us who we are.
Two years ago my oldest brother gave our family a wonderful gift. He encouraged and supported his son-in-law to research, write, and publish a book on our paternal grandfather, Theodor Kundtz, who had come to the United States from Hungary as a penniless boy and became one of the memorable citizens of Cleveland. His story is a wild ride with all the ups and downs of a true saga.
But more than that, what this book did for our family was to present all of us with a great many moments of remembering ourselves. Some of the stories were familiar to us, but many stories were newly heard; “I never knew that . . .” was a common comment. Now we know more about ourselves because we remember where we came from and how we are here in this place and time; our story is enriched. We can enjoy ritual moments of pointing to photos and saying, “That's the boat he came over on” and “That's Uncle Joe. He died before I was born.” As members of our family pick up this book and browse, we are given many moments of Stopping.
When we are inattentive, we can forget what is truly valuable. We all enjoy getting a new piece of sporting gear or a new gadget for the kitchen. But in the long run, a new tennis racket or a new blender probably means nothing really important. A tennis racket can bring you some pleasure and perhaps help your game; it cannot make you better or happier. It's an easy slide from “the prestige of ownership” to believing that you are now more fulfilled and are somehow better.
However, to keep balance, we must not miss the beautiful soulfulness of the things of the world. The same tennis racket and blender can indeed help bring to our lives valuable qualities that enhance our moments both on the peaks and in the valleys. As always, it's a question of balance and of meaning and value.
When we are distracted and forget what is true and important for us, we tend to make mistakes: I forget appointments, I bring the wrong book to the meeting, or I know the correct size of the battery I need but I buy the wrong one. When we go without Stopping, the chances of making a mistake along the way are high.
When I think of paying attention, I think of the words of Sister Mary Odillo, my seventh-grade teacher. She would say to me (too often), “David, stop daydreaming and pay attention!” She was right, of course; I did have to learn arithmetic. But I—and every other kid sitting in a schoolroom and daydreaming on a spring afternoon—was also right; there was a lot of important stuff I was paying attention to as I was daydreaming. The trick is to hit the balance between daydreaming and long division.
Being attentive is about noticing. I really like the word noticing. It implies so much. It has a lack of urgency and a quietness about it. When we notice things or moments, we take them in, consider them, and note them. They become ours not in a grabbing kind of way, but in a friendly and useful way. As I reflect on this past week, I notice some moments: a very small girl, seated in a grocery cart, looked right into my eyes and said, “My mommy gots a new toofbrush!”; I had a dream last night of a lion and a lioness; a call to a friend in Canada was, by chance, right during his fortieth birthday celebration; the weather Tuesday began cold and cloudy with high scudding fog but by noon it was warm and sunny; and we had some old friends that we had not seen for a while over for dinner and they said they were very happy to see us and we had good, animated conversation.
All these are just little moments in my life, a few out of hundreds and thousands, just as in your life. Why notice them? They remind you, they form you, they deepen your soul, they help put things in the right order, they connect you to the world, and they keep you awake. And on top of all that, they bring you immense pleasure.
Health requires this relaxation,this aimless life.This life in the present.
HENRY DAVID THOREAU
27
The Gift of Relaxation
This is the gift of achieving physical and mental ease in your body, in your dwelling, in your country, and in the world. It is knowing that you belong and where you belong. Without a minimum amount of true relaxation, we undertake any endeavor from a disadvantaged basis. Humans simply were not made to stay in a state of stress all the time.
Over the centuries, our bodies have changed very little while our culture has changed dramatically. When the hormones that trigger the fight-or-flight response were coursing through the body of the caveman, he was almost always facing a physical stressor: he either killed the woolly mammoth or was killed by it. For us humans now, most stress is not physical but psychological or spiritual. If you get an unfair evaluation at work because of a petty jealousy of your supervisor, what can you do? Fight (which means confronting the supervisor or other authorities, even though you know you'll lose) or flight (which means quitting your job and starting over.)? Generally we can do neither. Both responses are unsatisfactory.
But our bodies were made to do one or the other and the hormones are coursing through our veins on that mission. That negative stress energy has to go somewhere and do something. It does not go away on its own. Most often, what it does is attack its host: you. You get sick, irritable, backaches, shoulder aches, flu, colds, fat, or thin; whatever form your stress takes. That is, unless you do something about it.
I believe many people today have seldom known real relaxation and thus all of their projects begin with a handicap. Perhaps they have lived with so much tension and stress from childhood that they are unaware of what they are carrying and it feels normal to them. That's a serious problem. Learning how to relax is crucial to our physical and emotional well-being.
RESPONSE TO STRESS
(Based on model of Emmett Miller, M.D.)
I use the term relaxation both in its ordinary sense, what we all mean when we say we feel relaxed, and in a slightly more clinical sense, the return of a person to normal equilibrium, or balance, after a period of stress. In other words, once you have experienced stress in your life, you need to do something with that negative stress-energy in order to balance the time of stress with an opposite time of being relaxed. You can't just return to normal without a relaxation time and expect to have real recovery from the stress. Remember, the negative stress energy does not go away by itself; it accumulates and, if not balanced by a time of relaxation, continues to do you harm. Understanding this is key to true relaxation.
Use the diagram on page 135 to picture it graphically: The dotted line begins on the left with point a and ends on the right with point b; this is your normal lifeline. Above the line you are in stress territory and below the line you are in relaxation territory. Your life begins at point a and travels toward point b. A little way along, a stressor occurs (point c), sa
y someone recklessly cuts in front of you in traffic, nearly causing a serious accident and scaring you enough to make your heart pound and your muscles tighten from a rush of adrenaline. That stress event moves you up through the initial alarm-stage (c to d) and above the line well into stress territory. It would be common for one to feel the stress from this event for days or even weeks after. The resistance stage (d to e) is the time you spend actually coping with the stress. It can last from a few moments to years.
Now here's the important point: If you merely return to your normal lifeline at pointe and continue on your way, you have not fully recovered from the stress. You still carry the effects of the stress though you might not be aware of it; it accumulates with others that are already there. For real recovery, you must go below the line into relaxation territory for a time and then return back up to the line of normal life at point f. Only then are you truly recovered from the stress. For every time above the line (in stress territory) you need a balancing time below the line (in relaxation territory). The times spent in each don't necessarily have to be equal, but you do need time in both territories for real recovery.
Stopping is spending time below the line. Stopping can bring true relaxation to some people for the first time in their lives. This is especially true of people who have lived with long-term stressors like chronic illness (of self or others), abusive relationships, unfair work situations, unavoidable meanness, dysfunctional families or businesses, or social conditions so chaotic and uncontrolled that every moment is a moment of crisis where anxiety is the norm. It is also true for many people who have slipped into workaholism. So many of us are used to living above the line, in stress territory, that we can't even conceive of why we would need to spend time below the line, let alone figure out how to get there!
