Presence

     Presence is one of Rogers' core conditions for human relationship, so that we can relate to others as human beings obviously should relate, "on Earth as it is in Heaven." But presence isn't just a condition of relationship, or rather, it is a condition of our relationship not only with other people, but also with each and every aspect of reality, the whole of which I call God, because it is our creator, our destination and where we are now, because it is sacred, profound, infinite, and loved in every atom of our physical being, and by all that is: "Praise God, from whom all blessings flow; praise Him, all creatures here below; praise Him above, ye heavenly host.." That expresses the feeling. The last line, about Father, Son and Holy Ghost is awfully heady and reeks with doctrine if not dogma.

     When I speak of encountering the spirit of Carl Rogers, I am talking about my experience with a certain professional training last weekend. I am talking about something else also, something greater, but not separate from that experience which I really did have. At one point in that experience, referring to my own pain of relating to others in a social environment where the core conditions do not exist perfectly- although paradise can be touched at moments- and often the core principles are more or less violated, trampled underfoot in our stupidity; I said, expressing my feeling, "I could be on my knees on the floor." That is the classic posture of relationship with God also. What drives us to our knees, what inner command? It is love. "And when you're feeling sad and blue, you know love's made a fool of you." Love did not make me a fool. I have been that, because of my poor excuse for presence. Our love shows us, at times, what a fool we have been.

     The practice of awareness of reality is exactly about presence, of course. It is more precise, more sophisticated, more realistic and practical about this than Rogers was. But Rogers was focused on human relationships, specifically "helping relationships." This practice focuses on the individual's relation with reality. It is obvious that our relation with others can be no better than our relation with reality. I also believe that our relation with others can be no worse than our relation with reality. It is said that love will find a way. Indeed so, but not without presence. "Seek ye first the kingdom of Heaven, and all else will be added unto you." In presence, I relate to reality correctly wherever I exist, in whatever conditions, even at the moment of death or whatever I might imagine to be the afterlife. I think that it is quite obvious that the imagination of those who are sure there is no afterlife will be falsified by their experience. We live in infinity, and while we exist, reality exists for us. We are either present, or unconscious. Corpses are unconscious, like rocks. We all experience unconsciousness every night, in sleep. The universe continues to exist, but we are unconscious, although we might dream. We know that we will sleep again tonight, and we might even look forward to that surrender of consciousness. And we know that our life here will end in death, that this amazing body of ours will turn into something like a rock, life having departed. But our actual experience, now and eternally is of presence. But am I really present? Life is real only then, when I am. So I continue on my way, seeking the kingdom of Heaven. Of course I am seeking Heaven on Earth. Earth happens to be where I live at the moment. And I am not on a deserted island like Robinson Crusoe either, thank God. I am here with my fellows, oh boy and oh girl. As someone once said, we are not born from the crotch of a tree. We are so profoundly social, for instance all our thinking, which we may experience as an individual, isolated, even alienated attribute of ourselves- Descartes is translated as considering it our essential attribute, "I am a thinking thing"- is cultural, it is received from other people, from Mommy and Daddy, brother and sister, old friends, people maybe no longer remembered consciously, but whose presence is still felt in our lives. Our culture, our thinking, our use of language is associated for each of us with those persons from whom our culture was received. Know thyself, for God's sake. Wake up. Get real. Be present to yourself. Be present to me. May God help me to follow that road myself.

     In reality, for me, my feelings in relation to another person with whom I am in relationship at a given moment shift very rapidly, very, very sensitively, not only in reaction to every single nuance of their behavior, including their speech, but also, for good and for ill, in relation to my own past associations which are constantly being touched and tickled from moment to moment. Jung's idea of the "feeling-toned complex" has relevance to understanding this. We all have complexes. It is how our memory is organized, associations with definite emotional tints.

     The fallacy of psychoanalysis is that it ignores the crucial need for presence, the sine qua non of growth for us. I can analyze my reactions at a particular moment, and indeed can gain insight into my complexes. But that insight won't eliminate my complexes. To have an emotional history is to have complexes. I wish to own my complexes. In a sense, I am proud of them. They are not really wounds, even the most painful. They are the sure proof that I am a veteran, a grizzled veteran of the human encounter, still on my feet, and in fact, in real truth, untouched. In presence I am innocent, virgin, presence is the Garden of Eden. In simultaneous acceptance of reality, my associations are accepted simultaneously for whatever they are. It is my present from God.

     I touch that kind of presence and I work for it, but I don't stay there. To stay with that requires that I keep my full attention on presence. I am getting better at that. It divides automatically, that is a reality of my experience. As long as I can continue to be single-minded about remaining present, the automatic divisions of my attention are simply accepted. But when my attention is focused otherwise, I usually am no longer fully present. Sometimes a full, nothing held back focus of attention on some activity can bring me to full presence automatically. I have experienced this in Gurdjieff movements and in a car accident, and in a variety of other activities. It is a momentary experience. To sustain impartial and simultaneous presence, I have to make the necessary undivided effort with will and skill.

     In interactions with others that are not superficial, I am paying attention to the other's communication and to how I am expressing myself. This is how it has to be if I am to have intimate, important relationships with my brothers and sisters. But it usually takes me away from full presence, although there are moments. I notice particularly that if I am talking about presence with someone, I may automatically experience full presence. Sometimes when I notice that I am fully present for a moment in a relationship, I try to maintain that presence. That is a highly advanced skill. In conversation with someone else who is sincerely interested in presence, it can be very easy. It was almost possible in sexual intimacy with my beloved, who "didn't get it" as yet about presence, but who understood love deeply.

     My beloved "didn't get" presence. That was her expression. I didn't call it presence or awareness of reality then, I called it Gurdjieff. I grabbed for intimacy with her, because she was so very lovely. I tried to explain this practice to her, at first so that she would know me, later because it was more and more obvious that she needed it, and we could be together in eternity in this practice.

     The Buddhists, I think- and not being one, I don't pretend to really know- are barking up the wrong tree to an extent. Maybe if you actually climb that tree, it gets you to paradise just the same. I have chosen to climb Mr. Nyland's tree, which he said was Gurdjieff's, and he ought to know. I haven't gotten to paradise yet, but I'm absolutely convinced that I'm on the right track. Anyway, to me there is a sense in Buddhism as if we lived in a monastery, which of course we don't and which I would never accept.

     Some day... "One bright morning when this life is over, I'll fly away. To that home on God's celestial shore, I'll fly away. I'll fly away in glory, I'll fly away in the morning.."

     But we live in eternity now. I'm getting mine now with ice cream on top. Some day, in eternity, I will become so dexterous in maintaining my attention on presence, impartial and simultaneous, so pure of will to make love in the Garden of Eden with all God's present, not partial, that even intimacy will become automatic. But I'm not there yet. Someday, in eternity. It's a destination. Buddhahood is a destination. The Bodhisattva path is a journey. It's really the same, and yet not the same. We live in duality and we live in God. Intimacy with others is an adventure. Intimacy with ourselves is also an adventure. Your mission, should you choose to accept it.

     At the present time, completely human as we are, maybe the best working compromise is to leave space for silence in our relationships, so that we can continually touch base with God.

     I just want to throw in one more personal note. Brattleboro is a lovely little town in every respect. Maybe I shouldn't say that. A few years ago there was an organization of Oregonians known as the Blaine Society, I think because they aimed to encourage people to move to Maine by spreading the impression that Oregon is a dreary place where it rains all the time.

     Anyway, I was out for a little walk, and there is a wonderful spot with a bridge over a stream which obviously can become a roaring torrent at times. There is a huge treetrunk that has been washed to that spot by some flood. It was right there the last time I was in Brattleboro, a year and a half ago. It couldn't go much further in any case, because it wouldn't fit under the next bridge.

     I like to linger at that spot. The village has grown up around that stream, and next to the river into which it merges just a bit further on. I happened to notice a building actually rising out of the water, which obviously runs much higher and fiercer at times. It is an old building, and it is a brick building, not with a visible foundation of massive stones. The bricks rise out of the water. I wondered, how can it endure, how can bricks and mortar encounter this stream? But obviously they can, because they do, and obviously those who constructed that building knew that it would be able to sustain that encounter.

     And then I wondered, how did they ever build it. Obviously the mortar would have had to set and cure, before its encounter with the stream. Of course, they must have employed a cofferdam.

     I also have employed a cofferdam in my relationships with others, because I have recognized the necessity of building my presence to a certain point before I could expose myself to the continuous flow of intimacy. It was not because of a wish to keep people at arm's length, nor even out of fear. It takes time to learn how to direct one's attention properly. I'm still learning, but at least I have learned how to return, again and again, to the right way. I can even do that now in an intimate relationship. Before, intimacy tended to wash my presence away, but now I have built something sufficiently that I no longer need the cofferdam. Now I can take the risk of encountering my brothers and sisters, which I have longed for, such hunger, such pain of estrangement. I had to build my presence. Grabbing for intimacy prematurely hasn't worked. It is a miracle that I have survived my attempts, it is a miracle that my complexes can be accepted at times. My beloved did not survive. Today is actually the fourth anniversary of the last morning I spent with her, actually right now. She is present to me in spirit. Lord, if I had been there, my sister would not have died. But we all die, and our spirit does survive and is present to those who love us. I wish that she were present in the flesh, pie with ice cream on top. But God is present, and so are you, and so am I. She is present in spirit, she will always be present to me in spirit. She threw away her chance for pie with ice cream. That was a tragic mistake, a stupid mistake, such as I also make all the time when I am not present. For her and for all souls, I will live with all my might.